Chapter 6 - The Countdown
The red digital numbers glowing above the heavy refrigeration unit flashed in the freezing haze: 14:42.
“We can’t just stand here and wait to turn to ice,” Benny growled, his breath pluming in thick, roiling clouds as he wedged his shoulder against the seam of the sliding door once more. He heaved with all his massive strength, but the reinforced steel housing remained as immovable as a mountain.
“Don't waste your energy,” Carmine said, his voice cutting through the rising hiss of sub-zero air spewing from the overhead vents. His mind was moving at a frantic, calculated pace, scanning every square inch of the metallic tomb. “The door frame is locked from the outside by a pneumatic deadbolt. Mechanical force won't break it.”
Nell was huddled over her father on the cold concrete floor, chafing his frail hands between her own freezing palms. Emmett’s eyes were half-closed, his breathing shallow and rattling in his chest as the ambient temperature plummeted past twenty degrees.
“Papa, stay with me, look at me,” Nell pleaded, her voice cracking with raw terror. She looked up at Carmine, tears freezing on her eyelashes. “There has to be a manual override somewhere. Every commercial refrigeration unit has a safety release inside for trapped workers.”
“Not when it’s custom-rigged by a syndicate assassin,” Carmine replied, stepping up to the control box bolted to the wall beside the door.
He didn't hesitate. He jammed the butt of Benny’s Glock against the plastic housing of the digital timer, smashing the casing inward. Exposed wiring sparked and sizzled against the frost-covered metal, smelling sharply of ozone.
“What are you doing?” Benny asked, holding Emmett steady as the old man shivered uncontrollably.
“Trying to short the circuit,” Carmine said, stripping a pair of live wires loose with his bare fingers and crossing them. A sharp blue flash illuminated his face, but the digital display only flickered and reset to a faster, pulsing beat: 11:05.
“The timer just sped up,” Benny muttered grimly.
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Carmine lowered his hands, his dark eyes locking onto the frosted lens of a security camera mounted high in the corner of the room. A tiny red light blinked mockingly back at him.
“They’re watching us,” Carmine said quietly.
