Chapter 16 - Return to the Ashes
The drive back to the Vance estate was silent and agonizing. Dawn was just beginning to break over the city, casting a pale, bruised purple light across the horizon. When they pulled up to the massive wrought-iron gates of the property, Evie felt a physical wave of nausea wash over her.
The grand, three-story mansion she had called home for her entire life was completely gone. In its place stood a terrifying, blackened skeleton of charred timber and collapsed stone. The smell of wet ash and toxic chemicals hung heavy in the damp morning air, a constant, sickening reminder of the nightmare she had barely survived.
Thorne unlocked the police barricades, and the three of them carefully stepped into the ruins. The ground was slick with soot and the thousands of gallons of water the fire department had used to extinguish the blaze.
"Where did she hide it, Arthur?" Thorne asked, shining a powerful tactical flashlight over the debris.
"The grand library," Arthur replied, navigating the treacherous terrain with surprising agility. "Eleanor always loved irony. She hid the evidence of Richard’s illiteracy in morality directly behind a wall of classic literature."
They slowly made their way to the eastern wing of the ruined mansion. The library's massive oak bookshelves had been completely incinerated, leaving only warped metal brackets protruding from the blackened brick walls.
"The center fireplace," Arthur directed, pointing to a massive, soot-stained stone hearth that had miraculously survived the collapse of the ceiling. "There is a loose brick on the left side of the mantle. Behind it is a hollow cavity."
Thorne handed his flashlight to Evie and stepped up to the fireplace. He put his heavy leather gloves on and began aggressively pulling at the blackened bricks on the left side of the mantle. After a few minutes of intense struggling, a large stone shifted with a grinding sound, sliding out of place to reveal a dark, square hole.
Thorne reached his arm deep into the cavity. He grunted with effort, and slowly pulled out a heavy, rectangular object.
It was a bright orange aviation black box. The intense heat of the fire had scorched the exterior, bubbling the paint, but the heavy titanium casing was completely intact.
"We got it," Thorne said, a triumphant smile breaking across his exhausted face.
Before anyone could celebrate, the distinct, terrifying sound of a pump-action shotgun racking a shell echoed sharply through the quiet ruins.
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"Put the box on the ground, Detective," a cold voice commanded from the shadows of the destroyed foyer.
Three men dressed in dark tactical gear stepped out from behind the charred support beams, their weapons raised and perfectly aimed at Thorne's chest. Vanguard had arrived.
