Chapter 10 - The Tactical Baton
Miller unclipped his heavy tactical baton with a sharp metallic snap, extending the steel shaft with a flick of his wrist as he glared at Detective Vance. The tension in the hallway snapped like a taut wire, the silence so profound that the hum of the overhead security camera sounded like a buzzing hive of angry hornets.
“Drop your belt, Vance. Both of you against the wall, now!” Miller ordered, his voice carrying the absolute authority of a veteran who refused to be bought off.
Elena stumbled backward, her designer heels clicking frantically against the checkered tiles as she realized their carefully built house of cards was collapsing into total ruin. She looked toward the darkened corridor where Marcus had fled, only to find the heavy fire exit door swinging slowly on its hinges, completely empty.
“You’re making a huge mistake, Miller. You don’t know who signs my paycheck,” Vance snarled, taking a slow, threatening step forward while his hand drifted menacingly toward his holster again.
Clara reached up from inside the elevator shaft, her fingers gripping the rusted iron cable hanging beside the emergency brake. With a sharp tug, she pulled the manual release lever down, praying the ancient machinery would hold her weight.
“Don’t let him reach his weapon, Miller!” Clara shouted, her boots slipping on the slick metal flooring of the descending lift.
May you like
With a deafening groan of tortured steel, the elevator dropped three feet before catching on the emergency brakes, sending a shower of orange sparks raining down into the darkness around her.
---
