Chapter 6: The Pursuit Across the Parquet
The sharp crack of the silenced pistol left a thin, burning trail of ozone in the air. The bullet lodged deep into the mahogany floorboards just a fraction of a step behind Jane’s racing heels. Marcus threw himself flat onto the polished parquet, sliding across the slick surface to put a heavy marble console table between himself and the doorway. He glanced back, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. Victor was advancing steadily into the ballroom, his dark overcoat swishing around his legs with every measured, predatory stride. Behind Victor, Arthur Vance was scrambling frantically toward a side alcove, desperately trying to escape the crossfire of the violent mess he had helped create.
“Jane, keep moving!” Marcus yelled over his shoulder, his voice strained as he scanned the room for an improvised weapon. His fingers brushed against a heavy silver champagne bucket resting on a mahogany side table. Without wasting a second, Marcus grabbed the metal container, filled with melting ice and discarded bottles, and hurled it with all his might toward Victor.
The heavy bucket sailed through the air in a high arc. Victor raised his pistol, intending to fire through the obstruction, but the cascade of sliding ice cubes spilled across the polished floor right beneath his shoes. Victor’s lead foot skidded violently on the slick ice. For a split second, the cold professional lost his balance, his arms windmilling as he fought for traction on the treacherous parquet floor. He slammed hard onto his side, the silenced pistol clattering away across the polished wood and sliding out of reach beneath a velvet-draped table.
Marcus didn't wait to see Victor recover. He scrambled up from behind the marble console, his grey jacket catching on a carved corner before he tore himself free. He sprinted toward the dais where Jane and Lily had vanished behind a heavy velvet curtain. The adrenaline singing through his veins masked the burning ache in his muscles, leaving only one primal objective: get his family out of this nightmare alive.
He burst through the velvet drapery into a narrow, dimly lit service corridor lined with exposed brick and pipes. Jane was already several yards ahead, holding Lily tightly against her chest. The five-year-old was crying quietly now, her tiny shoulders shaking with fear, her light blue dress snagged on a protruding nail.
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“Marcus!” Jane called out, her voice breathless and frantic as she tried to force open a heavy metal fire door at the end of the hall. “It’s bolted from the outside! There’s no way through!”
Marcus caught up to them in three long strides. He planted his heavy work boots against the metal surface of the door, gripped the rusted crash bar with both hands, and threw his entire body weight into the mechanism. With a loud, metallic screech that tore through the quiet hallway, the rusted latch finally gave way, and the heavy door swung outward into the cool, dark night air of the city alleyway.
