Chapter 12 - The Midnight Coup
It was 11:32 p.m.
Twenty-eight minutes until Arthur's public notice went live.
Dominic stood in the conference room with his jacket off, brace removed, cane in one hand.
Arthur sat across from him like a man waiting for dessert.
"You filed without council approval," Dominic said.
"I filed under emergency succession provisions."
"Based on what?"
Arthur slid a document across the table.
A physician's declaration.
Dominic picked it up.
Dr. Samuel Mercer's signature appeared at the bottom.
Mercer stared at it. "I never signed this."
Arthur shrugged. "Then perhaps your office has problems."
"It's forged."
"Prove it before midnight."
Dominic looked at the councilmen.
Two avoided his eyes.
One looked terrified.
Arthur had planned for delay.
He did not need everyone to believe Dominic was incapacitated.
He only needed enough confusion for the banks, attorneys, and partners to freeze Dominic's authority.
Then he could control what happened next.
Clare entered quietly with Ellie in her arms.
"She should be asleep," Dominic said.
"She refuses unless she can see me."
Arthur looked at the child.
His expression was calm, but Dominic saw hatred underneath it.
Ellie buried her face against Clare.
Dominic turned back to Arthur.
"Dean Rusk is in custody."
For the first time, Arthur blinked.
"Who?"
"The man in the old security uniform."
Arthur smiled again. "Never heard of him."
"He heard of you."
"People use powerful names when they are frightened."
Dominic's phone rang.
Vincent answered it for him and put it on speaker.
"We found Angela," a guard said.
Mercer grabbed the edge of the table.
"Alive?"
"Yes. She was locked in a storage unit near Goose Island. Dehydrated. Bruised. Paramedics are with her."
Arthur's fingers stopped moving.
Dominic saw it.
"Can she talk?"
"A little. She keeps saying one thing."
"What?"
"Check the rehabilitation camera backup in the pediatric wing."
Mercer frowned. "We don't have a pediatric wing."
Dominic did not either.
Then Clare whispered, "The old children's clinic."
Vale Medical had closed a pediatric clinic two years earlier but kept the server contract active during litigation.
Old cameras sometimes mirrored through shared infrastructure.
Vincent was already calling IT.
Arthur stood.
"This circus is over."
Dominic blocked his path with the cane.
"Sit down."
Arthur's voice hardened. "Move."
Dominic took one step forward without the brace.
"You spent weeks teaching me to think I couldn't stand. Don't be surprised when I remember how."
Vincent's phone chimed.
A video file had arrived.
The timestamp read yesterday, 4:14 p.m.
The angle was grainy, captured from a forgotten mirrored feed.
But the man kneeling beside Dominic's brace was unmistakable.
May you like
Arthur Voss.
And he was not alone.
