Chapter 7 - The Freight Elevator Escape
My lungs burned as I rounded the corner, my sneakers skidding against the slick concrete floor where water from the spilled buckets had splashed. Behind me, Travis’s furious shouts echoed down the hallway.
"Security! Code red in the basement archives! Stop that woman!"
The heavy steel doors of the freight elevator loomed ahead. I slammed my palm against the illuminated call button, watching with a spike of sheer terror as the floor indicator above the door flickered lazily at the third floor.
Come on, move faster, I whispered under my breath, glancing back down the dark corridor.
Footsteps pounded against the floorboards—not Travis's, but the heavier, synchronized tread of two building security guards responding to his radio call.
Just as the security guards turned the corner into my line of sight, the freight elevator bell chimed softly.
Ding.
The heavy steel doors slid open with a pneumatic hiss. I dove inside, my fingers flying across the internal panel to slam the close-door button.
"Hey! Stop right there!" one of the guards shouted, unholstering a flashlight as he sprinted toward the closing gap.
The heavy steel doors met in the middle with a metallic clack, cutting off the guard's face a fraction of a second before his hand could catch the edge. The elevator groaned, and then the cable system engaged, jerking smoothly upward as it began its rapid ascent toward the lobby level.
I slumped against the cold metal wall of the elevator car, my chest heaving, sweat beading across my forehead. I pulled the USB drive from my pocket, holding it up to the dim overhead light. It was safe. The data was intact.
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But as the digital floor counter ticked past the second floor, a sickening realization hit me: the freight elevator didn't stop at the ground floor lobby. It opened directly into the underground executive parking garage—where Travis's private security detail and vehicles were stationed.
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