Chapter 6 - The Sub-Level Descent
The heavy steel doors of the freight elevator shrieked as they met in the middle, cutting off the cold, mocking smirk of the intruder in the kitchen.
The drop was sudden, plunging us into absolute darkness before a dim, amber emergency light flickered to life overhead. Chloe buried her face against my collar, her small body trembling so violently I could feel her heartbeat hammering against my ribs.
“Mommy, I'm scared. What’s happening? Who was shooting?” she sobbed, her fingers gripping the fabric of my sweater like a lifeline.
“I’m right here, baby. I’ve got you. Everything is going to be okay,” I lied, my voice cracking as my hands shook over the control panel.
The elevator groaned, sliding down into the subterranean parking level of the downtown block. Every second felt like an hour. My mind raced back to James, kneeling behind the stainless-steel prep island with a Sig Sauer in his hand, blood staining his pristine white cuff. The board. Who were they? Why would a multi-billion-dollar corporate board send tactical assassins to execute a restaurant owner on Christmas Eve?
Thud.
The elevator hit the sub-level floor with a jarring halt. The doors slid open to reveal a cavernous, dimly lit concrete parking garage filled with rows of luxury sedans and silent shadows.
The air smelled heavily of exhaust fumes and damp concrete.
I stepped out into the open, scanning the rows of vehicles until my eyes locked onto stall twelve. A sleek, matte-black European sedan sat idling quietly, its headlights dark, but its engine humming with quiet power. James’s car.
I sprinted across the concrete, my boots clicking loudly in the hollow space. Reaching the driver’s side, I yanked the handle. It was unlocked, just as he had promised. I shoved the back door open, carefully settling Chloe into the cushioned leather seat, wrapping my coat around her shoulders.
“Stay down on the floor, sweetheart. Cover your ears and don't look up,” I instructed, my voice dropping into a desperate whisper.
“Mommy, where’s James? Is he coming with us?” she asked, big tears spilling down her cheeks.
“He’ll be right behind us,” I promised, closing the door softly.
I climbed into the driver’s seat, my hands trembling as I gripped the steering wheel. The key was already in the ignition, resting in the on position. I turned it, and the engine roared to life with a deep, muffled growl. The dashboard lights illuminated the interior, casting a pale glow across my face.
Before I could shift into drive, the overhead security gate at the far end of the parking ramp screeched open.
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Headlights cut through the gloom. A heavy, black SUV rolled silently down the ramp, blocking the only exit out to the street.
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