Chapter 7 - The Trap
The world spun into a chaotic blur of shattering glass and crushing metal.
The airbags deployed violently, punching the breath out of my lungs.
I blinked through the white dust and smoke filling the cabin of the wrecked SUV.
"Larkin," I gasped, unbuckling my seatbelt with shaking hands.
He was slumped over the steering wheel, unconscious and bleeding heavily from a head wound.
I looked through the shattered windshield.
The massive armored vehicle that had crushed us was slowly backing away.
Dozens of armed men poured into the garage through the gaping hole the vehicle had created.
They were Thomas's men.
I refused to die like a trapped rat in a basement.
I grabbed Larkin by his ruined tuxedo jacket and pulled him across the center console.
I kicked my passenger door open and dragged his heavy body out onto the concrete.
"Wake up," I pleaded, slapping his cheek as I pulled him behind a concrete pillar.
Larkin groaned, his eyes fluttering open slowly.
"Penelope," he rasped, struggling to focus on my face.
"We have to move," I whispered fiercely, pulling his arm over my shoulder.
I remembered the original blueprints of the Continental Hotel from my endless audits.
There was an old subway maintenance tunnel located behind the south wall of the garage.
I half-carried, half-dragged Larkin toward a rusted metal service door painted exactly the color of the concrete.
Bullets began ricocheting off the cars behind us as Thomas's men spotted our movement.
I kicked the rusted door open and we tumbled into absolute darkness.
I slammed the door shut and slid the heavy iron bolt into place just as bodies slammed against the other side.
We were in a damp, freezing tunnel that smelled of ancient dirt and ozone.
Larkin leaned against the curved brick wall, clutching his bleeding side.
"How did you know this was here?" he coughed, looking at me with awe.
"I balance the books, Larkin," I said, catching my breath.
"I know every hidden door and buried secret this syndicate owns."
We began walking blindly down the dark, abandoned subway tracks.
The sounds of Thomas's men battering the door faded into the distance.
We walked for what felt like miles in the freezing darkness.
Suddenly, a low, rumbling vibration began shaking the ground beneath our feet.
"This track has been closed for thirty years," Larkin whispered, his eyes widening in horror.
May you like
A blinding, piercing headlight suddenly flicked on in the darkness ahead of us.
A massive, rusted smuggling train was hurtling directly toward us at full speed, leaving absolutely nowhere to run.
