Chapter 12
Julian shoved Marcus’s limp body aside, gasping for air as he scrambled to his feet. His suit jacket was torn, his hands were bleeding from multiple scrapes, and his chest heaved with exhaustion. He didn't look back. He broke into a limping run down the tunnel, following the trail of dim green floor lights until he caught up with Clara, who was leaning against the heavy steel door at the end of the utility corridor.
"Are you alright?" Julian asked, rushing to her side and steadying her against his shoulder.
"I'm... I'm holding together," Clara panted, pointing a trembling hand at the keypad mounted beside the heavy steel door. "This is it. The central server room for the entire regional facility. If we can get inside, we can access the master terminal and broadcast the financial records and environmental data directly to the federal regulatory agency."
Julian examined the keypad. It wasn't a standard numeric lock; it required a dual-authentication biometric scan—a retinal sweep and a high-security cryptographic keycard.
"We don't have a keycard, and my eyes aren't registered in this system," Julian said, his brow furrowing as he looked at the cold, unyielding metal door.
"Marcus had a master security fob on his tactical belt," Clara said suddenly, her eyes lighting up with a spark of hope. "When you knocked him out... did you grab it?"
Julian paused, mentally retracing the struggle back in the utility tunnel. In the heat of the fight, he had focused entirely on subduing the officer, leaving the tactical belt behind.
Before he could answer, a loud, heavy metallic thud echoed from the dark tunnel behind them. Emergency klaxons began to blare overhead, bathing the corridor in a harsh, pulsing red light. The entire sub-basement security network had just registered Marcus’s downed status.
"They're coming," Clara whispered, the color draining entirely from her face. "Julian, we're out of time."
Julian looked at the heavy steel door, then back down the dark hallway where the sound of multiple running boots was beginning to echo off the concrete walls. With no keycard and no biometric clearance, standard entry was impossible.
"Step back, Clara," Julian said quietly. He walked over to a heavy wall-mounted fire extinguisher bolted into a metal bracket near the door, unlatched it with a sharp pull, and hoisted the heavy red cylinder into his arms.
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"Julian, what are you doing?" she cried out.
"Opening the door," he replied grimly, and swung the heavy steel cylinder with all his remaining strength directly into the electronic glass housing of the keypad.
