Chapter 6 - The Closing Net
The black screen mirrored Julian’s grim reflection, the harsh white text glowing like a digital death sentence. Before Maeve could even pull her hand away from the keyboard, the entire lighting grid of the penthouse flickered and died. The smart-home system let out a low, mechanical hum as emergency power kicked in, bathing the expansive room in a dim, sickly crimson hue.
“They locked us out of the network,” Maeve said, her voice shaking as she stared at the dead laptop screen. “The moment we entered that passcode, it triggered a dead-man's switch. They know we accessed the drive.”
Julian didn't panic. Panic was a luxury for people with working legs; survival required cold, calculated strategy. He wheeled himself away from the desk, his eyes darting toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. Down on the street level, three sleek black SUVs had just pulled up to the main entrance of the building. Men in tactical gear were pouring out of the vehicles, moving with practiced military precision toward the private elevator lobby.
“They aren't waiting for tomorrow morning,” Julian said quietly, his voice deadpan. “Marcus just accelerated the timeline. They’re coming up right now.”
Maeve rushed over to his side, her hands gripping the back of his wheelchair. “We have to run—well, you know what I mean. We have to get to the service stairs before they secure the elevators.”
“The service stairs are keyed, Maeve,” Julian pointed out grimly. “Claire revoked my biometric clearance on the back exits three days ago. Every door in this fortress is locked from the outside.”
“Then we hide,” Maeve insisted, looking desperately around the massive bedroom for a place to conceal a wheelchair-bound man and a terrified maid.
“There is nowhere to hide in a glass cage,” Julian replied, his mind racing through every architectural blueprint of the penthouse. There was one place—a dusty, forgotten utility shaft behind the master bathroom that connected directly to the building’s old ventilation network. It hadn't been updated since the building was constructed, but it was wide enough to crawl through for someone with upper body strength.
“Listen to me, Maeve,” Julian said, grabbing her wrist with a grip that made her wince. “You need to take that flash drive, slip out through the service elevator before they lock it down, and get to a public terminal. Send those files to investigative journalist Sarah Chen at the Tribune. She’s the only one who can’t be bought off by Claire’s brother.”
“I’m not leaving you here to face them alone!” Maeve protested, shaking her head fiercely. “You can’t walk, Julian! They’ll take you straight to one of their facilities and finish what they started!”
“If we both stay here, we both die or disappear,” Julian countered, his dark eyes burning with fierce intensity. “If you leave with that drive, there’s a chance the truth gets out. Go! Now!”
Before Maeve could argue further, the heavy metal door of the private elevator let out a sharp, metallic clang. The override locks had been engaged from the outside. Heavy, synchronized boots stepped out into the hallway, moving swiftly toward the master bedroom.
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Maeve’s eyes widened in sheer terror. She shoved the flash drive deep into the pocket of her apron, turning toward the private bathroom just as the bedroom door handle began to turn with a slow, agonizing click.
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