Chapter 6 - The Freezing Point
The temperature in the enclosed hallway dropped to thirty degrees below zero in a matter of seconds.
The liquid nitrogen vapor was incredibly thick, stinging Ethan's eyes and burning his lungs with every desperate breath.
Derrick was curled tightly into a ball on the floor, weeping as frostbite began to aggressively blacken his fingers.
Ethan knew they had less than two minutes before severe hypothermia stopped their hearts completely.
He pulled the worn leather backpack around to his chest and dug frantically through the frozen pockets.
His fingers were stiff, numb, and clumsy, but he finally managed to pull out a small, cylindrical device.
It was a concentrated thermite flare, meant for emergency underwater welding, not survival scenarios.
"Cover your eyes and turn away!" Ethan yelled at Derrick over the rushing hiss of the freezing gas.
Ethan struck the ignition cap of the flare and slammed it hard against the reinforced glass door of the server room.
The flare ignited with a blinding, magnesium-white flash, burning furiously at over four thousand degrees.
The extreme, instantaneous temperature shift against the freezing polycarbonate created a massive, uncontrollable thermal shock.
A web of deep, jagged cracks spidered rapidly across the supposedly unbreakable glass door.
Ethan took two quick steps back, shielded his face with his heavy backpack, and launched a powerful kick directly into the center of the cracks.
The glass shattered into a million tiny, harmless pieces, creating a massive breach into the server room.
Warm, breathable air rushed out into the hallway, hitting Ethan like a physical, life-saving wave.
He grabbed the collar of Derrick's shirt and dragged the semi-conscious billionaire through the broken door, away from the deadly nitrogen cloud.
Marcus had retreated to the far end of the server racks, clearly shocked that they had survived his trap.
He raised his heavy pistol again and fired three rapid, deafening shots.
The bullets sparked violently against the metal server cabinets as Ethan shoved Derrick down and dove behind a row of mainframes.
"You always were incredibly resourceful, Ethan!" Marcus shouted over the humming servers.
"But you cannot stop the carbon monoxide from poisoning your innocent friends upstairs."
Ethan pulled his rigged tablet out, ignoring the blood dripping from his severely frostbitten fingers.
He connected the data cable to a secondary maintenance port on the bottom of the server rack.
"I don't have to stop it from here," Ethan muttered quietly to himself.
"I just have to isolate the life support network from the main grid to buy them time."
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Before the progress bar on his screen could reach ten percent, a heavy combat boot slammed squarely into Ethan's chest, knocking him flat on his back.
Marcus stood triumphantly over him, the gun pointed directly at Ethan's forehead.
