Chapter 7 - The Biometric Override
The sound of heavy tactical boots crunching over broken glass in the living room sent a fresh wave of adrenaline through the room. Mark kept his pistol trained on the doorway, his muscles coiled like a spring. Every breath felt like inhaling glass, the metallic tang of cordite burning the back of his throat. He glanced down at Leo, who was shaking uncontrollably, his small fingers twitching as if trying to grasp a toy that was no longer there.
"Move. Now," Mark ordered, his voice dropping into a harsh, commanding whisper. He grabbed Sarah by the arm, hauling her to her feet despite her weak protests, and shoved her toward the hallway. "David, cover our six. If anything comes down that corridor, you drop it."
David nodded sharply, leading the way out of the nursery with his weapon held high and steady. They moved in a tight, desperate formation, slipping past the kitchen counter where the refrigerator’s rhythmic hum had finally been drowned out by the distant, wailing scream of police sirens echoing up from the street far below.
"The pantry door is jammed," Sarah hissed, her hands flying to the white wooden paneling as she threw her weight against it. The latch had caught on the swollen doorframe, refusing to budge.
Mark cursed, stepping past her and delivering a brutal, heavy kick just below the knob. The wood splintered with a loud crack, and the door swung wide open, revealing a dark, cramped utility space lined with wire shelving and canned goods.
"In. Get in," Mark ordered, pushing Sarah and Leo into the darkness ahead of him.
David slipped inside last, his eyes scanning the apartment behind them before he slammed the pantry door shut. He reached blindly along the interior wall until his hand found a small, recessed metal panel protected by a clear plastic flap.
"The override," Mark said, leaning over David’s shoulder as another muffled thud echoed from the living room, followed by the sound of boots entering the kitchen. "Hurry up. They’re inside."
"I'm going as fast as I can," David muttered, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He flipped open the plastic flap and pressed his thumb firmly against the glowing blue glass of the biometric scanner.
The panel flickered once, twice, then flashed a harsh, angry crimson red.
Access Denied. Biometric Mismatch.
Sarah let out a stifled cry from the dark corner of the pantry, pulling Leo tighter against her chest. "It won't work! They must have scrubbed your clearance when you faked your death, David!"
"Shut up and let me think," David snapped, beads of sweat rolling down his scarred forehead. He wiped his thumb on his trench coat, trying to clean off the sweat and residue, and pressed it against the scanner a second time.
Again, the crimson light flashed, accompanied by a harsh, mechanical buzzing sound. Outside the pantry door, the heavy footfalls stopped directly on the other side of the thin wooden panels. A gloved hand rapped sharply against the wood, testing its integrity.
"We have movement in the kitchen sector," a cold, computerized voice spoke through a communications receiver just beyond the door. "Breach the pantry. Leave no survivors."
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Mark didn't hesitate. He raised his pistol, aimed directly at the wooden paneling at eye level, and whispered to David, "Get ready to catch the boy."
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