The Blood Clock's Toll: A Boston Watchmaker's Deadly Survival War Against His Own Brother
👉 Previous Decision: You exposed Silas’s digital fortune, leading to his accounts being frozen.
Silas wasn’t finished. Desperation sharpened his cunning.
I heard his voice, amplified through Maya’s scanner, making a call to the Boston Police Department. He offered to turn himself in, to confess to our father’s murder.
But the details were skewed. He would claim I had forced him, at gunpoint, into this confession. An ironclad alibi, twisting the truth to save his own skin.
Emergency sirens echoed across the harbor, miles away. He was buying time, creating a spectacle.
Below us, in the lower tower, Silas’s private mercenaries entered. Their objective: extract the blood cylinder from me. My life, and my mind, were merely tools to him.
“They’re coming for the clock,” I said, my voice tight.
But Maya was already moving. Swift and silent, she met the mercenaries in the stairwell, a blur of practiced precision.
I heard muted thuds, the crackle of industrial stun devices. Moments later, the low rumble of their walkie-talkies went silent. Maya had disabled their communications.
She reappeared, breathless, locking the heavy gear room access doors from the outside. “They’re handled, Dad,” she whispered, her eyes bright with defiance. “And he’s not getting out.”
The sirens drew closer, their wails a distant chorus. Silas’s desperate gambit was crumbling. But he was still at the top, armed, and ready to face me.
➡️ Read CHAPTER 15 to continue the story.
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