Chapter 15 - The Judge's Study|
By ten o'clock that evening, the storm had reached its peak, unleashing blinding sheets of rain over the affluent suburb of East Greenwich.
Judge Victor Vance sat in his opulent, book-lined study, wearing a silk smoking jacket, sipping a twenty-year-old single malt scotch beside a roaring fireplace.
He was a distinguished-looking man of sixty-five, with silver hair, sharp blue eyes, and a reputation for absolute, unyielding morality on the judicial bench.
On the desk before him sat an open suitcase packed with untraceable bearer bonds and two diplomatic passports.
Following Julianna’s disgraced exile to the Vermont sanatorium three weeks ago, Victor Vance knew his time in Rhode Island was coming to an end. He was preparing to board a private flight to Zurich at midnight.
He picked up his crystal glass and raised it toward the portrait of his late wife hanging above the hearth.
"To survival," Victor whispered to the empty room.
BOOM.
The heavy double glass doors leading to the rear terrace shattered inward in a rain of flying glass and metal.
Four heavily armed men clad in black tactical gear burst into the study, their laser sights sweeping across the room.
Before Victor could even drop his glass, Paul stepped forward, kicking the judge's legs out from under him and pinning him face-down against the Persian rug.
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Footsteps echoed over the broken glass.
Vincent Moretti stepped into the room, wearing a long black overcoat drenched in rain, holding the leather-bound medical ledger in his leather-gloved hand.
