Chapter 7 - The Floodgates Open
The industrial fire suppression system filled the basement garage with a blinding cloud of white chemical mist.
Arthur fired a single round, the suppressed shot pinging harmlessly off the reinforced concrete pillar beside my head.
I didn't hesitate.
I grabbed Daniel by his coat collar and dragged him toward the heavy emergency stairwell door.
"Move, Daniel!" I shouted through the deafening shriek of the sirens.
We burst through the heavy steel door just as Arthur's second bullet sparked against the frame.
The stairwell was illuminated by pulsing red emergency lights.
Daniel collapsed onto the third step, coughing violently from the chemical fumes.
"He's going to kill us," Daniel wheezed, clutching his chest.
"We need to run out into the street."
"The street is covered by their security team," I said, checking my phone.
The fire alarm had automatically disabled the electronic magnetic locks on all corporate access doors.
My father had designed the building’s failsafe after a warehouse tragedy thirty years ago.
In the event of a catastrophic chemical fire, every door opened—including the private executive elevator.
"We aren't running down," I told Daniel, hauling him up by his lapels.
"We're going to the penthouse suite."
"Are you insane?" Daniel yelled, terror warping his features.
"Vanessa is up there with the entire private mercenary unit."
"Vanessa is alone with the terminal," I corrected him coldly.
"Arthur sent his men down here to finish us off."
"She thinks she's untouchable, Daniel."
"She thinks she's already won."
We took the service elevator up forty-two floors, the machinery groaning beneath us as the building’s power grid fluctuated.
When the elevator chimed on the executive floor, the hallway was deathly quiet.
The plush silver carpeting muffled our footsteps as we approached the grand double doors of the boardroom.
Inside, beneath the massive crystal chandelier, Vanessa Cole stood over a glowing laptop terminal.
She was typing furiously, a set of high-capacity military-grade hard drives pulsing with blue light beside her keyboard.
She didn't hear us enter over the distant wail of the street sirens below.
I walked directly into the room and closed the heavy boardroom doors behind me with a loud, deliberate click.
Vanessa froze, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.
She turned around slowly, her scarlet jacket slightly rumpled, her eyes widening in disbelief.
"Claire?" she whispered, staring at me as if I were a ghost rising from the grave.
"How are you alive?"
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I took three slow steps toward the mahogany conference table.
"You forgot one critical detail about my father's software, Vanessa," I said.
