Chapter 6 - The Chemical Escape
The thick white chemical foam poured violently from the ceiling vents of the glass vault.
Shiomara knew that triggering the fire alarm would force the panic room into an emergency reset protocol.
“Cover your mouths and noses!” Shiomara yelled as the foam rapidly rose past their knees.
Leo ripped his expensive tie and wrapped it tightly around his face to filter the harsh chemicals.
The automated system recognized the presence of dangerous suppression foam and immediately triggered the exhaust vents.
More importantly, the heavy glass door automatically unlocked with a loud, metallic clank to allow evacuation.
Julian kicked the heavy door with all of his strength, shattering the electronic locking mechanism completely.
The door swung open, spilling the toxic white foam out into the luxurious penthouse hallway.
Shiomara coughed violently but managed to stumble out of the vault, clutching the deed to her chest.
“We have to reach the security control room on the 98th floor,” Maya gasped while wiping foam from her eyes.
They rushed to the emergency stairwell, their footsteps echoing loudly in the deserted, alarm-blaring tower.
Thorne’s mercenaries were entirely distracted by the massive fire alarms echoing throughout the skyscraper.
The group successfully slipped past two armed patrols and breached the heavy doors of the security hub.
Julian quickly sat at the main terminal, his fingers flying across the glowing keyboards.
“I am locking Thorne out of the building’s mainframe right now,” Julian announced triumphantly.
Leo monitored the security cameras, searching for any sign of their biological father.
“I have eyes on Silas,” Leo said, pointing at a high-definition monitor.
Thorne was furiously marching toward the roof, shouting orders into a satellite phone.
“He is heading for his private helicopter to escape the lockdown,” Maya realized.
Shiomara looked at the monitors, feeling a deep sense of justice taking form.
“Lock the roof access doors and trap him up there,” Shiomara suggested smartly.
Julian typed the command, smiling as the heavy steel doors on the roof sealed shut on the camera feed.
Thorne was visibly enraged on the screen, pounding his golden cane against the locked steel door.
Suddenly, Julian’s computer terminal flashed bright red with a massive system override warning.
“Someone is hacking into the network from the outside, and they have military-grade clearance,” Julian panicked.
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The security cameras abruptly cut to black, replaced by a live video feed of a dark, damp basement.
Tied to a wooden chair in the video was Shiomara’s sixteen-year-old grandson, Mateo.
