Chapter 7 - The Descent into the Vault
They didn't head for the front foyer or the main elevators—both were almost certainly compromised or rigged with tripwires. Instead, Marco hauled Mia toward a recessed panel hidden behind a massive modern art canvas on the far wall of the study. He punched a six-digit code into a mechanical keypad, and a heavy steel door slid open with a pneumatic hiss, revealing a narrow spiral staircase descending into absolute darkness.
"What is this?" Mia gasped as Marco shoved her gently through the opening, slipping in right behind her and slamming the heavy steel panel shut.
"An old Prohibition-era escape shaft," Marco panted, drawing a compact tactical flashlight from his belt and clicking it on. The beam cut through the dusty air, illuminating damp concrete walls and a steep iron spiral staircase winding down into the bowels of the Gold Coast building. "It leads straight down to the underground parking sublevel where our secondary transport is hidden."
"Will Gabriel know where we went?" Mia asked, her boots clanging softly against the metal steps as they descended into the chill beneath the streets.
"Gabriel is currently tearing down Robert Vance's fundraiser at the Drake Hotel," Marco said grimly over his shoulder. "Which means we're entirely on our own until he realizes Sterling made a play for the penthouse."
They reached the bottom of the spiral staircase, stepping out onto the oil-stained concrete of the subterranean parking garage. The air smelled of exhaust fumes, damp cement, and stale oil. Overhead, fluorescent ceiling tubes hummed with a low, flickering electrical current.
Marco swept the flashlight beam across the rows of parked luxury vehicles until it landed on a nondescript, matte-gray utility van idling silently in a corner stall.
"Get in the passenger side," Marco ordered, reaching into his pocket for the key fob.
Before Mia could take two steps toward the van, a sharp, metallic screech echoed from the stairwell door behind them. The heavy steel fire exit began to buckle outward under the force of a hydraulic breaching tool.
"They found the secondary shaft," Mia whispered, her blood running cold.
"Run!" Marco roared, shoving her toward the van's passenger door while he yanked open the driver's side and leaped behind the wheel.
Mia wrenched the passenger door open, vaulted inside, and slammed it shut just as the stairwell door burst open with a deafening crash. Two tactical operatives spilled out into the parking garage, their rifles instantly swinging toward the utility van.
Rat-tat-tat-tat!
Suppressed gunfire chewed through the sheet metal of the van’s rear panels, shattering the side mirrors as bullets whizzed past the windshield.
May you like
Marco slammed the gearshift into reverse, flooring the gas pedal. The tires shrieked against the concrete, throwing up a cloud of white rubber smoke as the van shot backward, narrowly missing a concrete support pillar before pivoting hard into the exit ramp.
---
