Trapped inside an abandoned Cold War military asylum by my son-in-law while tens of thousands watch live
👉 Previous decision: You chose to direct Julian to patch into the rooftop tower emergency bandwidth.
“The tower,” Arthur instructed. “We need to break their jam.”
Julian nodded, his hands moving with practiced speed across the hotwired junction. He bypassed multiple circuits, rerouting the signal directly to the rooftop transmission array.
A high-pitched whine filled the air, then a sudden, clear burst of static from the ancient radio console.
“We’re online,” Julian announced, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. “Emergency bandwidth. Local authorities. Federal emergency channels. Everything.”
Arthur quickly adjusted the dials. He heard fragments of conversations from the courtyard, Derek’s agitated voice, Bramwell’s panicked exclamations.
He amplified it. Lyle Bramwell’s voice, clear and cold, boomed from the console speaker: “…the $850,000 indemnity payout is contingent on the structural loss, not a living soul inside. Standard clause.”
Julian’s eyes widened, then narrowed in disgust. “He’s discussing the fraudulent insurance claim. Live. To everyone.”
Arthur felt a surge of grim satisfaction. Lyle Bramwell’s words, intended for Derek, were now broadcast to the world, a confession of fraud echoing across the Pine Ridge Valley.
Outside, Bramwell flailed, dropping a pair of wire cutters as he stared up at the now-active transmission tower. He glanced at Derek, who stood motionless, his face etched with disbelief and growing panic.
“They’re exposed,” Arthur said, his voice hard. “Now we just need the proof of how deep this goes.”
➡️ Read CHAPTER 14 to continue the story
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