Chapter 5 - The Barrel of a Gun
Julian froze, his hand slipping off the doorknob as he slowly raised both hands in the air, shielding Lucy with his body.
“I said step away,” the man repeated, pressing the cold steel barrel harder against Julian’s right temple.
Julian turned his head slightly, recognizing the burly private security guard who had frequently stood outside Arthur Vance’s executive office.
“You’re making a very expensive mistake, Miller,” Julian said, his voice remarkably steady despite the weapon pressed against his skull.
“Mr. Vance pays my salary, Julian, and right now he wants this entire floor sanitized,” Miller replied, his finger tightening slightly on the trigger.
Before Miller could pull back the hammer, a heavy porcelain vase smashed over the back of his head with a sickening crunch.
Miller slumped forward onto the linoleum floor, revealing Lucy standing behind him with a shattered flower arrangement in her hands and a fierce, unyielding look in her eyes.
“Hurry up!” Lucy hissed, dropping the broken ceramic and pushing past the unconscious guard to fling open the door to room 412.
Julian stepped inside, closing the door behind them and sliding the heavy security bolt into place just as heavy boots echoed down the hall.
“Mom?” Lucy whispered, rushing over to the metal bed where the frail woman was staring blankly at the flickering fluorescent light.
The woman turned her head slowly, her hollow green eyes widening in disbelief as she looked at the young girl standing beside her bed.
“Lucy?” the woman croaked, her voice raspy from years of disuse, reaching out a trembling, IV-bruised hand to touch the girl’s cheek.
Julian stepped forward into the dim light, his breath catching in his throat as those familiar green eyes finally turned to look at him across the sterile room.
“Hello, Olivia,” Julian said softly, tears finally breaking the dam of his emotional restraint as he knelt beside the bed.
Olivia stared at him, her lips parting in a silent gasp of recognition before a wave of panic washed over her worn features.
“You shouldn’t have come here, Julian… Victoria knows everything… she’ll kill us all,” Olivia gasped, her grip tightening painfully on Lucy’s wrist.
Suddenly, heavy blows rained down against the wooden door outside, accompanied by the distinct sound of a crowbar prying at the reinforced lock.
“They’re coming through!” Lucy shouted, looking frantically around the tiny room for another exit or a weapon to barricade the entrance.
Julian stood up, yanking the heavy metal bedside table across the floor to wedge it underneath the doorknob just as the wood splintered inward.
“Is there a window?” Julian demanded, unhooking the privacy curtain to reveal a sheer drop into the dark courtyard three stories below.
Olivia pointed weakly toward the corner closet, her voice barely audible over the sound of the door hinges groaning under the pressure.
“There’s a service hoist… used for laundry… leads down to the basement,” Olivia managed to say, coughing violently as dust filled the room.
Julian ripped the closet door open, revealing a dark, vertical shaft with a rusted metal cable and a wooden platform hanging suspended in the gloom.
“Get on, both of you. Now!” Julian ordered, lifting Olivia gently into his arms while motioning for Lucy to climb onto the narrow platform.
The wooden door gave way with a deafening crash as Miller and two other armed men flooded into the room, their flashlights cutting through the darkness.
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Julian pulled the internal safety lever, sending the hoist plunging downward into the dark abyss just as a barrage of bullets shattered the glass above them.
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