Chapter 13 - Descent Into the Alley
Maeve reached out, grabbing the worn leather harness dangling from the winch system and pulling it upward toward Julian. With practiced, desperate speed, Julian locked his strong arms around the straps, securing the heavy buckles tightly across his muscular chest and waist.
“Alright,” Maeve said, gripping the heavy iron friction wheel bolted into the concrete wall beside her. Her palms were slick with sweat, and her arms burned from hours of constant physical strain. “Tell me when.”
“Hold the wheel tight,” Julian instructed, locking his gaze onto hers. “Slow and steady. Don't let it spin free, or the friction will burn right through your skin.”
Maeve gripped the iron spokes with both hands and turned the wheel counter-clockwise.
With a loud, metallic clank, the winch disengaged, and the heavy harness holding Julian began to slide smoothly downward along the vertical steel cable. Maeve’s arms screamed as the weight pulled against her, the friction wheel spinning hot beneath her palms. She bit her lip hard, throwing her body weight backward to counter the momentum, steadily feeding the cable through the winch system inch by agonizing inch.
Down they descended through the dark, damp elevator shaft, past endless rows of concrete floors and darkened penthouse windows. Above them, the muffled sound of Viktor pounding on the maintenance hatch finally faded away into silence.
After what felt like an eternity, a cool gust of damp city air drifted up from below, carrying the distant sound of honking car horns and siren wails.
“I see the alley exit!” Maeve called out, her voice echoing in the shaft. Ten feet below them, a heavy steel fire door marked EXIT was illuminated by the flickering neon sign of a late-night diner across the street.
“Ease off the brake,” Julian instructed calmly. “We’re almost down.”
Maeve slowly turned the iron wheel back the other way, reducing the friction. The harness glided downward smoothly until Julian’s boots hovered just two feet above the concrete floor of the private back alley.
With a swift unlatching motion, Julian released the chest harness, dropping smoothly onto his hands and sliding out of the straps before pulling himself back up into his wheelchair frame, which had been lowered down earlier via a secondary freight winch.
Maeve climbed down the last few rungs of the maintenance ladder, dropping onto the alley pavement beside him. She doubled over, resting her hands on her knees as she sucked in deep, ragged breaths of fresh city air.
Julian rolled his wheelchair forward, looking up and down the empty, rain-slicked alleyway. “We need to get to a public terminal. The encrypted file I queued before the power cut was set to auto-forward to a secure drop-box at the downtown precinct, but we need to verify it arrived.”
Maeve straightened up, wiping her soot-stained face with her sleeve. She looked down at her torn beige maid uniform and smiled grimly. “Thirty-five an hour doesn't even begin to cover this shift, Julian.”
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Before Julian could answer, the rear steel door of the penthouse building above them burst open with a loud bang, and a silhouette stepped out into the alleyway holding a pistol.
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