Chapter 7 - The Wired Panel
Clara’s fingers traced the thick, insulated copper wires crisscrossing the elevator’s control panel, realizing with a sick lurch in her stomach that she was completely trapped. The buttons were disabled, the manual override was welded shut, and the heavy brass doors behind her began to slowly close with a mechanical whine that signaled the activation of a remote lockout sequence.
“Going somewhere, Clara?” Marcus taunted, a cruel, triumphant smile stretching across his face as he closed the distance between them, his tuxedo jacket swaying with his movement.
Vance flanked him to the left, his hand finally clearing leather as he drew his service pistol, pointing the heavy black barrel directly at the floorboards near Clara’s feet. The red security camera on the ceiling shifted its angle once more, tracking Marcus’s advance with mechanical precision while flashing an erratic double-blink pattern.
“You’re making a massive mistake, Marcus. The board knows I took the backup drive offsite,” Clara lied smoothly, praying that her bluff would buy her enough time to pry open the elevator doors manually.
Marcus stopped just short of the threshold, his eyes narrowing as he weighed the risk of her words against the massive offshore accounts hanging in the balance. Elena stepped up beside him, resting a manicured hand on his arm with a chilling sense of absolute entitlement.
“There is no backup drive, Clara. We destroyed your apartment at midnight,” Elena whispered with a sickeningly sweet smile.
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Suddenly, the lights in the entire hallway flickered violently and died, plunging the gallery into absolute darkness save for the harsh, pulsating red glow of the ceiling camera overhead.
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