Chapter 13: Breaking the Chain
The mercenary groaned, clutching his fractured arm, and scrambled back up the basement stairs, abandoning the mission.
Victor collapsed against the gas manifold, clutching his bleeding arm.
The digital timer on the device read: **02:15... 02:14...**
The device was hardwired into the gas pressure valves; dislodging the explosive would trigger a mechanical spark, igniting the leaking gas instantly.
Victor pulled Michael’s charred journal from his pocket. He turned to the final soot-stained sketches Michael had drawn while suffocating twelve years ago.
*“If Beatrice uses the Mark-IV pressure trigger,”* Michael’s handwriting noted, *“cut the ground wire first, then bleed the auxiliary valve counter-clockwise to vent the spark chamber.”*
Victor’s hands were slick with his own blood and sweat. He found a pair of wire cutters in the abandoned tool kit on the table.
**00:45... 00:44...**
He located the blue grounding wire hidden beneath the electronic interface and snipped it. The timer paused for a second, then rapidly accelerated: **00:10... 00:09...**
Victor dropped the cutters, threw his weight against the rusted auxiliary iron wheel, and wrenched it counter-clockwise with all his strength.
The rusted metal screeched in protest. Victor screamed as his wounded arm flared with agony. With a final, desperate heave, the valve yielded, releasing a deafening hiss of pressurized air.
The timer stopped at: **00:01.**
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Victor slumped to his knees on the cold basement floor, the silence rushing back in. He let out a long, trembling breath as sirens began to wail in the streets above.
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