CHAPTER 6: Shadow in the Tunnels
The subterranean maintenance tunnels beneath the old waterfront were cold, damp, and thick with the scent of mold and rust. Grace and Miller navigated the narrow corridors using the low beam of a single tactical flashlight.
Behind them, the heavy iron door at the tunnel entrance groaned, followed by the muffled voices of armed men.
"Split up," Nathan’s voice echoed down the corridor, distorted by the concrete walls. "Find the girl. Bring the hard drive. If the reporter resists, put him down."
Hearing Nathan’s voice—the same voice that had whispered vows of eternal love at their wedding—sent a chill down Grace’s spine, but it no longer paralyzed her. It fueled an intense, righteous anger.
"There's an emergency ladder two hundred yards ahead," Miller whispered, pointing down a branching tunnel. "It leads up to the subway service platform. Take the drive."
"I'm not leaving you, Julian," Grace hissed.
"You have to," Miller said, his eyes earnest. "I'm the decoy. They want the journalist who wrote the exposé drafts. You are the only one who can legally unlock the Vanguard master accounts at Sovereign Bank using Clara's biometric signature. Without you, this evidence is just noise."
He pressed the drive into her palm. Before she could protest, Miller clicked on a secondary high-lumen torch, shouted down the opposite hallway, and bolted, leading the pursuing footsteps away from her.
May you like
Grace wiped a stray tear from her cheek and climbed the rusted iron rungs toward the street above.
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