Chapter 8 - The Desperate Escape
The explosion of scalding steam instantly threw the utility room into absolute, screaming chaos.
The mercenaries blindly fired their weapons into the dense, white fog, the deafening gunshots ricocheting dangerously off the concrete walls.
Clara grabbed Arthur's arm, pulling him out of his paralyzed state of shock.
"We have to move, now!" Clara screamed over the deafening hiss of the broken steam pipe.
Arthur snapped back to reality, his paternal instincts completely overriding the devastating truth he had just learned.
Biology didn't matter; Leo was still his son in every way that truly counted.
Arthur dove through the thick steam, tackling the mercenary closest to Vivian and knocking the man's weapon away.
He didn't wait to fight; he simply snatched the screaming baby from Vivian's arms in the confusion.
"I have him, Clara, run to the stairs!" Arthur yelled, shielding the infant with his own body.
They sprinted toward the narrow spiral staircase, the heavy bullets chipping the concrete floor just inches behind their heels.
Clara scrambled up the stairs first, pulling open the hidden door in the closet and tumbling back into the safety of the penthouse bedroom.
Arthur lunged through the opening right behind her, violently kicking the heavy closet wall back into place just as Marcus reached the bottom of the stairs.
"Push the heavy oak dresser in front of the door, hurry!" Arthur ordered, laying the crying baby safely on the bed.
Together, they shoved the massive piece of solid wood furniture in front of the broken drywall, creating a temporary barricade.
"They have heavy weaponry, that dresser won't hold them for more than two minutes," Clara panted, completely exhausted.
Arthur grabbed his spare keys off the nightstand, his eyes locked in fierce determination.
"We are going to the roof, my private helicopter is fueled and waiting on the helipad," Arthur said.
They ran out of the penthouse and into the private hallway, sprinting toward the emergency roof access stairs.
They burst through the heavy fire doors and out onto the cold, windy rooftop just as the sun began to rise over the city skyline.
The sleek, black helicopter sat silently on the painted H, promising an immediate escape from the nightmare.
Arthur ushered Clara and the baby into the back seat, quickly climbing into the pilot's chair and flipping the ignition switches.
The massive rotors slowly began to turn, whining loudly as the engine powered up.
Suddenly, the roof access doors exploded violently off their hinges, completely blown apart by a heavy breaching charge.
Vivian stepped through the thick smoke, her face covered in soot and her eyes burning with pure, unadulterated madness.
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She raised a heavy, military-grade rocket launcher and aimed it directly at the cockpit of the spinning helicopter.
"If I don't get the fortune, nobody gets the fortune!" Vivian screamed furiously over the roar of the engines.
