Chapter 13 - The Burning Server
A thick, acrid plume of dark gray smoke came billowing down the greenhouse corridor, carrying the unmistakable stench of melted plastic and burning circuitry.
“Fire!” someone shouted from the main hallway outside.
Arthur’s heart skipped a beat. The basement server room—the very place where he had ripped the master drive out of the rack—was directly beneath the west wing ventilation shaft. If Harrison’s remaining loyalists couldn't stop the digital data from leaking, they were attempting the next best thing: a complete physical incineration of the hardware infrastructure.
“They’re burning the evidence room!” Arthur yelled, grabbing Clara’s shoulder and pulling her back toward the emergency exit.
Lieutenant Miller shoved Evelyn and Harrison into the custody of the outer patrol deputies and drew his service weapon, motioning for his team to clear the corridor. “Secure the suspects in the cruiser! Move!”
Arthur didn't wait for instructions. He knew that the sub-level archives contained physical master ledgers that hadn't yet been digitized—original signed confessions, forged transcripts, and bank transfer receipts that formed the bedrock of the embezzlement case. If those papers turned to ash, the defense attorneys would argue that the digital files were fabricated anomalies.
“Clara, stay here with the laptop,” Arthur ordered urgently, handing her his heavy jacket to protect her from the smoke.
“No! I’m coming with you!” Clara insisted, clutching the beat-up computer tightly against her chest. “I know the layout of those vents better than anyone. I can get us past the fire doors!”
Without waiting for permission, Clara darted ahead through the thickening haze of smoke, her small frame slipping easily beneath the heavy iron fire door that had automatically dropped halfway down to seal off the burning west wing. Arthur cursed under his breath and scrambled after her, ducking beneath the scorching metal barrier just as the overhead sprinkler system hissed to life, dumping freezing water onto the blazing floorboards.
The heat was intense, radiating from the basement stairwell like an open furnace. As they reached the sub-level landing, they found the heavy oak doors of the archive vault blasted open from the inside.
May you like
Standing in the center of the smoking room, surrounded by charred filing cabinets and glowing embers, was Julian Vance, holding a smoking industrial flare.
---
