Chapter 10
The drainage shaft was narrow, damp, and smelled strongly of aged brick and rain runoff. Julian led the way into the cramped brick-lined tunnel, using his tactical flashlight to illuminate the uneven footing while Clara navigated the narrow space with care, shielding her injured wrist against her chest. Walter walked backward at the rear, holding Marcus firmly by the arm to ensure the younger man could neither escape nor signal any approaching operatives.
"Keep moving," Julian urged softly as the sound of boots echoing in the upper utility corridor grew sharper and more distinct. "The exit leads directly into the old pump station behind the greenhouse."
Clara’s breathing came in short, measured gasps as the physical toll of her earlier fall caught up with her adrenaline surge. The bruises along her ribs flared with every step, but she refused to slow down. The amber vials of baseline antidote resting safely in her pocket were the only remaining proof of the conspiracy, and she knew that whoever controlled those vials controlled the future of the medical trials.
"Marcus knew about this tunnel," Clara said quietly over her shoulder, her voice bouncing off the damp brick walls. "That’s why he didn't panic when we cut the server power. He had a secondary extraction team waiting at the greenhouse exit."
Julian paused instantly, raising his fist to signal a halt. He turned his head back down the dark corridor, his expression tightening as he processed the implications. "If the greenhouse exit is compromised, we’re walking directly into an ambush."
Walter shoved Marcus against the curved brick wall of the tunnel, pressing the heavy steel wrench firmly against his collarbone. "Who’s waiting at the pump station?" he demanded, his voice echoing with suppressed rage.
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Marcus smiled in the gloom, his teeth catching the faint reflection of the flashlight beam. "You think I operated alone, Walter? The syndicate has had operatives embedded in this household staff for over a year. The moment you locked the front doors, you sealed the trap from both ends."
Julian didn't hesitate. He flicked off the tactical flashlight, plunging the entire tunnel into absolute, velvet blackness. "We turn back," he whispered, his mouth inches from Clara’s ear. "We take the maintenance ladder up to the courtyard gazebo instead."
