Chapter 7 - The Locked Airlock
The heavy titanium bars slammed violently into the concrete floor, sending a cloud of dust into the air.
The airlock was completely sealed, trapping Sarah and me in a space no larger than a small closet.
Mister Higgins was standing safely on the other side of the bars, looking at us with a mixture of terror and deep regret.
"I am so incredibly sorry, Mrs. Hutchinson," Higgins whispered, pulling a ringing cell phone from his pocket.
"Richard threatened to murder my entire family if I did not alter the biometric access codes yesterday," he confessed shamefully.
Higgins turned and ran back toward the elevator, leaving us completely abandoned in the subterranean trap.
A mechanical voice suddenly echoed from a speaker hidden in the steel ceiling above us.
"Unauthorized access detected, oxygen depletion protocol initiated," the cold, automated voice announced.
I heard the terrifying hiss of the ventilation fans completely shutting down, sealing off our only air supply.
Sarah banged her fists against the titanium bars in sheer panic, screaming for help that would never come.
"We are going to suffocate down here, Evelyn!" Sarah cried, tears streaming down her pale cheeks.
I forced myself to remain calm, knowing that panic would only consume our limited oxygen faster.
I opened the manila envelope and pulled out the handwritten letter from Harrison one more time.
My eyes scanned the elegant words, desperately searching for a hidden clue or a secondary plan.
Harrison was a brilliant chess player who always thought five moves ahead of his ruthless children.
I reached the final paragraph of the letter, which seemed like a simple, sentimental goodbye.
"Never forget the night we listened to Miles Davis in the courtyard, my love, that melody holds the key to my heart," the letter read.
I frowned, remembering that we had listened to the album 'Kind of Blue' on the exact night he proposed to me.
I looked past the bars at the massive steel vault door, noticing an old-fashioned manual numerical keypad beneath the biometric scanner.
"Sarah, can you reach your arm through the bars and touch that keypad?" I asked urgently.
Sarah squeezed her slender arm through the narrow gap in the titanium bars, her fingers barely grazing the buttons.
"What is the release year of the album 'Kind of Blue'?" I asked, racking my tired brain for the trivia.
"It was released in 1959!" Sarah replied, her voice filled with sudden, desperate hope.
"Type one, nine, five, nine, and hit the green pound key," I instructed calmly.
Sarah stretched her fingers painfully and punched the four numbers into the dusty keypad.
A loud, hydraulic hiss echoed through the small space, but the main vault door did not open.
Instead, a small, hidden compartment in the wall beside the keypad popped open with a metallic click.
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Sarah reached inside the hidden compartment and pulled out a cheap, plastic burner phone.
Before she could hand it to me through the bars, the burner phone suddenly began to ring loudly in her hand.
