Chapter 12: The Labyrinth of Steel
Clara’s boots echoed softly on the metal steps as they climbed higher into the heart of the convention center. Leo walked between them, his small hand locked tightly in Clara’s right grip, his eyes wide as he gazed up at the massive pipes and humming machinery overhead. The distant, muted roar of a large crowd filtering into the main auditorium above began to vibrate through the concrete floors, signaling that Julian Vance’s campaign rally was fast approaching its scheduled start time. We're right beneath the main stage now, David whispered, pausing on a narrow landing beside a heavy, louvered vent that overlooked the back of the auditorium. He carefully pushed open the maintenance hatch an inch, peering through the slats into the brilliantly lit hall below. Rows upon rows of folding chairs were packed with cheering supporters waving blue campaign signs, while television cameras mounted on rolling jibs swept across the stage where a row of empty leather chairs awaited the candidate and his inner circle. Through the crack in the vent, Clara caught sight of several men in dark suits pacing near the side exits—private security personnel with earpieces and guarded postures. Those are Vance’s personal detail, Clara murmured softly. How do we get from these service corridors to the press gallery without walking right past them? We don't use the main hallways, David replied, pulling out the old topographic map and tracing a faded red line with his thumb. There's a secondary catwalk directly above the lighting rigs that leads straight to the media broadcast booth at the back of the auditorium. If we can climb up through the utility hatch here, we can drop right into the press section without ever stepping foot on the main floor. Leo looked up, his small face etched with worry. Daddy, it's really high up there. Will I have to climb a ladder? Just a short one, buddy, and I'll carry you the whole way on my back, David promised, turning to secure the canvas backpack containing the ledger tightly across his own shoulders. Clara took a deep breath, steeling her nerves as she looked up into the dark vertical shaft that disappeared into the ceiling. There was no turning back now. The trap was set, and they were walking right into the center of the lion's den.
