Chapter 8
Panic surges through the small room like an electric shock. The heavy brass handle rattles again, more violently this time, accompanied by the muffled sound of Evelyn’s cold voice barking orders to a security guard in the hallway. "Open this door immediately! I know someone is using the override code!"
"There’s no time to pick the lock back to its locked position," Martha hisses, frantically scanning the sprawling studio for an alternative exit. "The fire escape! Through the sunroom conservatory at the back of the archive!"
Daniel grabs the stack of documents and shoves them deep into the pockets of his beige polo shirt, while Martha scoops up the encrypted thumb drives, sliding them into her uniform pocket. He turns to Clara, grabbing her hand with fierce determination. "Run, Clara. Don't look back."
They dash toward the far corner of the studio, where a set of floor-to-ceiling glass panels leads out onto a secondary iron spiral staircase wrapping around the exterior of the mansion. Martha throws her weight against the glass push-bar, and the door swings outward into the cool night air. The sharp sound of the main studio door splintering open behind them shatters the quiet of the night. Evelyn’s voice rings out in absolute fury from inside the room.
"Stop them! Shoot if you have to!" Evelyn screams, her voice losing all aristocratic pretense, devolving into the raw screech of a cornered predator.
A security guard appears in the doorway of the archive just as Daniel helps Clara step onto the metal grating of the spiral stairs. A loud crack splits the air—a gunshot ricochets off the brickwork inches from Daniel’s head, sending a shower of red dust cascading down onto the steps. Martha ducks instinctively, pulling Clara down behind the protective iron railing of the staircase.
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Daniel lunges back toward the open doorway, using the heavy iron fireplace poker he had carried up from the ground floor to jam the exterior door mechanism from the outside, wedging it firmly against the stone jamb. Another bullet pings against the iron rail, but the door holds fast against the guard’s frantic pushes from within.
"Move! Keep moving down!" Daniel yells over the rising wind, grabbing Clara’s hand once more as they sprint down the spiral steps toward the dark, overgrown gardens below.
