Chapter 13
The emergency red backup lights flickered to life, casting a bleeding, monochromatic glow over the interior of the stalled elevator car. Arthur reached up, his fingers locating the overhead hatch latch, and shoved it upward with a sharp heave. Metal scraped against metal, and a square of pale moonlight spilled down from the corridor above.
“Up,” Arthur instructed, boosting himself through the opening with surprising agility for a man of his build. He turned around, extending a gloved hand down into the shaft.
Elena caught his hand effortlessly, her white cane tucked securely into the tactical loop of her belt. With a single fluid pull, she hoisted herself through the hatch, landing silently on the polished marble flooring of the east wing corridor.
The hallway was entirely deserted, save for the distant, rhythmic flashing of the fire alarm strobes reflecting off the tall glass windows. No sirens wailed; the system had been manually silenced at the master terminal.
“The greenhouse is at the end of this hall,” Elena whispered, her head tilting slightly as she listened to the subtle acoustic resonance of the corridor. “Eighty paces. Three intersecting doorways on the left.”
Arthur moved cautiously, his revolver raised, leading the way with military precision. They advanced down the corridor, the silence broken only by the soft, steady tap of Elena’s white cane against the marble floor. Tap. Pause. Tap. Pause.
As they reached the second doorway, a shadow detached itself from the alcove. A man in a dark suit stepped out, raising a suppressed firearm, but Arthur fired before the man could level the barrel. The silenced crack echoed softly down the hall, and the guard collapsed silently to the floor.
“They’re already here,” Arthur muttered, stepping over the fallen body.
May you like
They reached the heavy glass double doors leading to the greenhouse. Inside, exotic ferns and flowering vines cast intricate, chaotic shadows under the moonlight. In the center of the room, standing beside a glowing terminal console linked directly to a satellite dish on the roof, stood Julian’s father, Senator Hayes, flanked by Director Sterling’s two remaining associates.
Hayes looked up, his face twisted in a desperate, frantic grimace. “Arthur. Don’t take another step. The uplink is live. One keystroke, and your entire corporate empire—and your daughter’s medical trust—is wiped from the global registry.”
