Chapter 11 - The Footsteps on the Stairs
The heavy, rhythmic thud of combat boots echoed up the stairwell from the basement, growing louder and closer with every passing second. Arthur gripped his heavy industrial flashlight like a club, his old eyes straining against the gloom of the hallway as he pointed the weak beam toward the intersection of the corridors.
"They're coming up," Arthur whispered into his radio headset, his voice raspy and breathless. "Marcus is down, but Thomas is heading straight for Room 404 to finish what Eleanor started."
Inside the dark classroom, the upload progress bar on Maya’s phone inched forward with agonizing slowness: Ninety-nine percent. One percent left. One percent stood between absolute exposure of systemic corruption and total suppression of the truth.
Eleanor stepped out of the shadows near the chalkboard, her dark blazer torn at the shoulder, her blonde bun coming undone with loose strands framing her face like a madwoman. She held a heavy iron paperweight in her right hand, her breathing ragged and heavy in the enclosed space.
"Give me the phone, Maya," Eleanor commanded, her voice dropping into a low, terrifying growl. "Or I swear to God, I will break your fingers one by one until you drop it yourself."
"You're too late, Mrs. Vance," Maya said, her voice not shaking at all as she stared down the teacher. "The transfer is complete."
A loud, triumphant chime rang out from the phone speaker: Upload successful. All files transmitted to State Bureau of Investigation.
For a fraction of a second, Eleanor froze, the iron paperweight slipping slightly in her sweaty palm. Then, the classroom door burst open with a deafening crash as Superintendent Thomas Vance slammed into the room, panting heavily, his suit jacket ruined and his face bruised from his fight with Marcus.
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"Where is it?" Thomas roared, his eyes wild with unhinged panic as he scanned the room. "Where are the files?!"
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