Chapter 12
“They found us,” Rachel whispered, her blood running cold as she gripped the back of Daniel’s chair.
Agent Miller drew a standard-issue sidearm from his shoulder holster, his face set in a grim, fatalistic expression. He moved swiftly to the heavy steel bulkhead door, pressing his ear against the cold metal.
“It’s not a breach team,” Miller said, his voice terrifyingly calm. “They’re pumping heavy-grade industrial solvent through the ventilation shafts above the stairwell. They aren’t trying to break the door down; they’re trying to smoke us out.”
“How long until it reaches this level?” Daniel asked without looking away from the monitor, his fingers flying across the keyboard as the data transfer progress bar ticked upward: 82%... 85%...
“Ten minutes, maybe less,” Miller replied, walking back toward the desk and checking his ammunition clip. “We have to hold this room until that progress bar hits one hundred. If the circuit breaks halfway through the transfer, the entire package self-destructs.”
Rachel looked over at the corner cot where Toby was sitting up, coughing softly as a faint, sweet-smelling chemical haze began to drift down through the upper air intake vent.
“Toby, put this over your face!” Rachel yelled, grabbing an extra wool blanket, wetting it slightly from a water pitcher on the desk, and rushing over to wrap it around the boy’s nose and mouth.
“Aunt Rachel, it smells funny,” Toby choked out, his small eyes watering as the vapor grew thicker in the confined space.
“Hold your breath, buddy. Just keep breathing through the cloth,” Rachel commanded, her voice fierce with maternal protection as she scooped the boy into her arms, carrying him away from the corner toward the center of the room near the desk where the air was slightly cleaner.
Daniel’s face was slick with sweat, his eyes bloodshot and strained. The green glow of the monitor illuminated the frantic movement of his hands. 91%... 93%...
“Daniel, faster!” Rachel urged, shielding Toby with her own body while keeping one eye on the heavy bulkhead door.
From outside the thick steel hatch came the terrifying sound of high-pressure cutting torches screaming against the outer locking bolts. A shower of brilliant white sparks began to spray through the small hairline cracks around the door frame, illuminating the swirling dust particles in the dark bunker.
“They’re cutting the bolts!” Miller shouted, raising his service pistol and aiming directly at the center of the bulkhead door. “Get ready, Daniel. When that door pops, all hell breaks loose.”
“Ninety-eight percent... ninety-nine...” Daniel muttered, his teeth clenched so hard his jaw trembled.
On the screen, a final blinking cursor flashed twice.
Transfer Complete. Data Packet Received by DOJ Secure Server.
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A loud, triumphant chime rang out from the old terminal’s internal speaker just as the heavy steel bulkhead door blew inward with a deafening blast of fire and flying metal.
***
