The Billionaire in the Scrapyard

Chapter 3: Broken Knees

"Kick the door open."

Julian's voice was sharp, loud, and full of anger outside the thin brick wall.

I did not move from the metal chair. My eyes stayed locked on the computer screen. The green progress bar for the server uplink was at eighty-two percent. It needed two more minutes to finish locking onto the Sterling Global network.

"Leo, get behind the steel plate," Marcus said in a low voice. He stood by the corner of the doorway, holding the heavy shotgun tight against his shoulder.

"The uplink is not done," I said. "If I unplug the power now, we lose the connection to their main system."

"You will not have a head to type with if they throw that gas in here."

A heavy boot slammed into the front wooden door. The old wood splintered with a loud crack.

"Leo!" Julian yelled through the broken wood. "I know you are in there, you piece of trash! Open this door and give me the master key, or I will turn this whole yard into an oven!"

I kept my hands on the keyboard. 

"Julian, walk away," I called out. "You do not know what you are touching. If you burn this place, you destroy the only servers that can save your presentation tomorrow."

"You think I care about this garbage dump?" Julian laughed, but his voice sounded high and nervous. "My father gave me thirty men. He gave me full authority to clean up the mess. Break the hinges!"

Two large men in black tactical jackets threw their weight against the door. The iron frame groaned, the top hinge ripping free from the red brick with a shower of dry dust.

"Marcus," I whispered. "Now."

Marcus did not fire the gun. He reached to the left wall and yanked down a thick industrial power switch.

A loud mechanical hum shook the concrete floor. 

Outside, the heavy fifty-ton scrap crane above the driveway sprang to life. The massive electro-magnet hanging from its boom dropped three feet, directly over the hood of Julian's black luxury SUV.

A deafening metal crunch echoed across the yard. 

The SUV jumped off its front tires, the entire front engine block getting sucked upward into the giant round magnet with a violent screech of tearing steel. 

The men at the door stopped pushing. They turned around, screaming in total confusion as their own car was lifted four feet into the air.

"What is that?" Julian shrieked, dropping his gas can into the mud. "Shoot the crane! Shoot the engine!"

Three guards pulled pistols from their belts and started firing at the empty crane cabin high above the yard. The bullets bounced uselessly off the thick cast-iron body.

"My turn," Marcus muttered.

He stepped out onto the gravel threshold and leveled the shotgun at the mud right in front of the lead guard's feet.

He pulled the trigger.

The blast was like a cannon going off inside a metal room. A massive spray of dirt, gravel, and shredded rubber flew into the air, knocking the two front guards flat onto their backs in the mud.

"Drop the iron!" Marcus roared, his deep voice louder than the rain. "The next one takes off your kneecaps!"

The guards scrambled backward on their hands and knees, terror written all over their faces. They were corporate security guards used to pushing around unarmed clerks in office lobbies. They were not ready for an old war mechanic with a shotgun.

Julian stood frozen in the middle of the yard, the lit flare shaking in his wet hand. The orange smoke drifted across his pale face.

I stood up from the console. The computer screen behind me gave a soft, high chime.

UPLINK COMPLETE. DATA TRACE SECURED.

I walked out the broken front door into the rain. I did not run. I did not hide. I walked straight up to Julian until I was standing three feet away from his flare.

"You look wet, Julian."

Julian stepped back, his expensive leather shoes sinking deep into the black mud. 

"Stay back, Leo! I swear I will drop this flare! I will burn you alive!"

"Do it," I said, looking him dead in his eyes. "Drop it. Let us see if your five-thousand-dollar suit burns faster than this grease."

Julian’s hand trembled. The flame flickered wildly in the cold wind. He looked at his two guards groaning in the mud, then up at his crushed SUV dangling in the air, and finally back at me. The arrogance was completely gone from his eyes. 

He was just a scared, rich boy who had never faced a real fight in his life.

"You think you won something?" Julian spat, trying to sound tough, but his bottom lip was shaking. "My father owns the police chief. He owns the city council. Even if you have the password, you are just an orphan with a criminal record after tonight."

"I am not an orphan, Julian."

Julian frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Ask Richard about Arthur Vance," I said, my voice ice cold. "Ask him whose name is on the original deed for the land your penthouse sits on. And then ask him why he was so terrified to let me reach my twenty-sixth birthday."

Julian’s eyes widened. A flicker of real shock crossed his face. He clearly had no idea what I was talking about. Richard had kept his own son completely in the dark.

"You are crazy," Julian whispered. "You have lost your mind in this dump."

"Get in your other car and leave," I said, pointing toward the open gate. "Tell Richard the countdown has started. Tomorrow morning at the tech summit, the entire city is going to watch the Sterling name get dragged through the dirt."

Julian tossed the flare into a puddle, where it died with a loud hiss. He did not say another word. He turned around, scrambled into the back seat of the second SUV, and yelled at the driver to step on the gas.

The black truck spun its wheels in the mud and tore out through the front gates, disappearing into the dark city streets.

Marcus walked over, his boots splashing in the wet gravel. He looked down at the mud where the flare had landed, then over at the crushed car still hanging from the crane magnet.

"They will be back with thirty more men by sunrise, Leo," Marcus said.

"They will not have time," I replied, pulling a small silver memory drive from my pocket. "Julian is going straight to Richard's office. Richard is going to realize the server link is live. While they are busy trying to patch the fake leak on their main computers, we are going to make our first real move."

"Where?"

"The city probate court," I said. "We are going to file the Vance deed before the morning bell rings."

Before Marcus could answer, the phone in the pocket of the unconscious guard lying in the mud began to ring loudly. 

I knelt down and pulled the black phone from the man's jacket. 

The caller screen did not show a name. It showed a private, encrypted corporate number with a gold star icon. 

I swiped the green button and held the speaker to my ear.

"Did you burn the boy?" Richard's voice came through the line, cold, dry, and hurried. "Answer me, Captain. Did you secure the lockbox?"

I took a slow breath, letting the rain wash the blood from my face.

"The lockbox is open, Richard."

Total silence hit the other end of the line. The only sound was the faint hum of an office air conditioner thirty miles away.

"Leo?" Richard’s voice dropped into a sharp, ragged whisper. 

"I know what you did to my father," I said into the phone. "Keep the boardroom warm for me tomorrow, Richard. I am coming to take back my house.”