Chapter 864
“The Diamond!” Parker shouted, suddenly lucid. “It’s in the secure storage unit! Arthur hid it in a vintage Mustang inside Container 459! They’re trying to crush it to destroy the evidence!”
Skye looked toward the massive machine nearby.
The hydraulic whine of the crusher started up. A large shipping container rose slowly in the claw’s grip.
“No!” Skye broke cover.
“Skye!” Alistair screamed.
She didn’t stop. She ran toward the control booth of the crusher. A mercenary stepped out, blocking her path. Skye didn’t slow down — she slid on the wet mud, kicking his legs out from under him. As he fell, she grabbed his dropped weapon and pistol-whipped him across the jaw.
She reached the control panel. The container was hovering directly above the crushing bay.
Ro𝗆𝗮ո𝘤𝗲 no𝘷𝖾𝘭ѕ 𝘰𝘯 𝗀a𝘭𝘯𝘰v𝗲l𝗌.𝘤о𝘮
She slammed the emergency stop.
The claw froze. The container swung gently in the air.
“Clear!” Felix shouted. The sniper had been neutralized.
Silence fell over the yard, broken only by the rain and Parker’s labored breathing.
Skye climbed the maintenance ladder to the suspended container and shot the lock off the doors. Inside, strapped down in the center, sat a pristine 1967 Shelby Mustang beneath dust sheets.
She ripped the sheet away. She opened the driver’s side door and tore into the dashboard, following the thread of Parker’s frantic muttering.
There, taped to the back of the speedometer, was a dirty, grease-stained pouch.
Skye pulled it free and jumped down, landing hard in the mud. Alistair was there, covering her. “Got it?”
She opened the pouch.
A yellow diamond — rough-cut and glowing like a captured sun — rolled into her palm.
“The Thorne Legacy,” Alistair whispered, staring at it. “Arthur stole it and hid it in the one place his enemies wouldn’t look — a pile of trash.”
“We have three,” Skye said, closing her fist around it. “Let’s get out of here before reinforcements arrive.”
Parker limped over, leaning heavily on Felix. “Can we please go somewhere that doesn’t smell like rust? My neural pathways are misfiring.”
“Get in the car, Parker,” Skye said, pulling him toward the SUV. “You have a lot of explaining to do.”
The private wing of the Sea City Nursing Home was quiet, smelling of antiseptic and lavender. Grandpa Thorne sat in his wheelchair by the window, staring at the rain.
Alistair knelt beside him. “Grandfather.”
The old man’s eyes drifted toward Alistair. Recognition came slowly, like a tide coming in. “Alistair. You look like your father. Is the war over?”
“We found it,” Alistair said gently. He held up the Yellow Diamond.
The old man’s breath hitched. His trembling hand reached out, hovering over the gem. “The Sun’s Tear… I thought it was lost to the darkness.”
“Arthur Sterling took it,” Skye said, stepping forward. “We took it back.”
Grandpa Thorne looked at Skye. His eyes narrowed, then softened. “The Sterling girl. You have fire in you. Just like the Founders.”
“Where do they go, Grandfather?” Alistair asked. “We have the stones — the Sapphire, the Ruby, the Diamond. What are they for? Are they just data drives?”
The old man tapped his temple. “Keys. To the Architect’s Hub.”