Chapter 2
The heavy thud of the brass deadbolt sliding into place echoed through the cavernous hallway, sounding less like a security measure and more like a tomb door sealing shut. Julian remained on his knees beside Clara, his gaze darting from the trembling nurse to the man standing motionless at the top of the stairs. Walter’s face was obscured by the harsh overhead glare, making it impossible to read his expression, but his rigid posture spoke volumes.
"Walter, what is the meaning of this?" Julian demanded, keeping his voice low but sharp enough to cut through the tension. He kept one hand hovering protectively over Clara’s shoulder, acutely aware of the spilled oil pooling dangerously close to her arm.
"You shouldn't have come down here, Julian," Walter called back down, his voice remarkably calm, almost conversational, which made the underlying threat all the more palpable. "The quarterly audit isn't scheduled until Friday. You’re early."
"And you're standing by while a staff member is injured on company property," Julian fired back, his jaw tightening. "Get down here and help me lift her. We need an ambulance now."
Clara groaned softly, her fingers twitching against the cold marble. She tried to pull her arm away from the yellow puddle, but her strength was failing fast. "Don't trust him," she rasped, her breath hitching in her throat. "The oil... it's not from the HVAC system. It's the coolant from the experimental core."
Julian’s blood ran cold. The experimental core was classified under the highest tier of corporate security, restricted to a select few lead researchers. If that fluid was leaking into the general corridors, it meant the containment protocols had completely failed. He looked down at his fingers, still stained with the thick, amber residue, and noticed a faint, sweet chemical odor beginning to rise from the puddle.
"Walter, I said get down here," Julian repeated, standing up slowly while keeping himself positioned between Clara and the stairs. "Or I swear to God, I'll bypass the internal network and call federal oversight myself."
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Walter finally took a step downward, the leather of his shoes clicking sharply against the wooden steps. But instead of descending to help, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, heavy-duty keycard, dangling it lazily between his fingers.
"You can't call anyone, Julian," Walter said, a cold smile touching the corners of his mouth. "The jammer went live the second you walked through the security checkpoint."
