Chapter 10 - The Lockdown
The thick steel security shutters across every window and door in the sub-basement slammed down with the loud, heavy thuds of automated hydraulic locks.
The white overhead lights turned off, replaced instantly by dull, red emergency back-up lighting that bathed the concrete hallway in a blood-red glow.
"He's sealing the facility," Dr. Vance whispered, cowering near the doorway. "Level 4 lockdown locks every hydraulic gate from the inside. Nothing opens without Julian’s personal biometric key from the top floor control hub."
"Then we go to the top floor," I said, my voice deadpan and filled with righteous anger.
Detective Carter looked at me like I was insane. "Evelyn, my arm is useless, Daniel is unconscious on a gurney, and the entire private security force of Vanguard is coming down those stairs right now!"
"Marcus is still hooked into their outer fiber relay!" I reminded him, pulling out the burner phone. I dialed Marcus’s number.
"Evelyn!" Marcus answered instantly, panic thick in his voice. "The facility just went dark on my monitor! Heavy steel shutters dropped over all outer gates! What’s happening?"
"Vance triggered Level 4 lockdown!" I yelled into the receiver. "Can you override the hydraulic locks from your laptop?"
"No!" Marcus shouted back over the sound of rain. "Level 4 isolates the internal server from the outside network! The only way to open those gates is from the primary terminal in Julian Vance’s penthouse office on the fifth floor!"
"Can you give me a map of the internal ventilation or maintenance shafts?" I asked.
"Wait... let me pull up the architectural blueprints Daniel downloaded..." A few seconds of furious keyboard clacking sounded over the phone. "Got it! There’s an industrial freight elevator behind the chemical storage unit in B2. It runs on a separate manual hydraulic pump that isn't connected to the main security grid! It goes directly into Vance’s private office lounge!"
"Carter, take Dr. Vance and stay with Daniel in the freight elevator," I ordered, turning toward the door.
"What are you going to do?" Carter demanded, trying to stand up straight.
"I’m going up to Vance’s office to take his biometric key," I said, picking up Carter’s dropped secondary firearm from the floor—a heavy black compact pistol. I checked the magazine just like Daniel had shown me years ago during safety courses.
"Evelyn, you're an accountant!" Carter yelled. "You can't go up there alone!"
"I'm not an accountant tonight," I said, looking back at Daniel’s breathing chest on the gurney, then thinking of Chloe sitting alone in her hospital room guarded by cops. "Tonight, I'm a mother bringing her family home."
I turned and ran down the red-lit hallway toward the service stairwell before Carter could stop me.
The stairwell was quiet, the echo of my boots sounding like gunshots against the concrete walls. I scrambled up the metal steps—1st floor... 2nd floor... 3rd floor...
As I reached the landing for the 4th floor, the heavy steel fire door above me swung open.
Two armed Vanguard security guards in dark tactical gear stepped out onto the landing, their flashlights cutting through the red gloom.
"Hold it right there!" one shouted, bringing his rifle up.
I didn't stop. I dropped to my knees, sliding across the wet concrete floor of the landing, and fired two shots blindly into the ceiling light fixture above them.
The glass light tube exploded in a cascade of blinding white sparks.
The guards cried out, shielding their eyes in total darkness.
I scrambled past them, shoved the heavy door of the 5th floor open, and burst into the carpeted, luxurious hallway of Julian Vance’s executive suite.
At the far end of the hall, behind double glass doors framed in mahogany, stood Julian Vance.
He was standing behind a massive glass desk, casually pouring himself a glass of scotch, completely unbothered by the chaos below.
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As I pushed the glass doors open, holding the gun in my shaking hands, Vance looked up, offering a cold, terrifying smile.
"Welcome to my office, Evelyn," Vance said smoothly, raising his glass in a mock toast. "I must admit... you are far more resourceful than your husband."
