Chapter 4 - Shadows in the Ventilation
A sudden metallic clatter echoed from above us, vibrating through the ceiling tiles of the briefing room.
I immediately unholstered my sidearm, signaling for Emma to stay down beneath the sturdy conference table beside Olivia. I raised my weapon toward the ceiling grid, tracking the rhythmic, heavy thuds moving along the central air duct network.
Marcus Vance wasn't waiting outside in the rain. He was already inside the building structure.
Because Vance knew the station's architecture inside and out, he had accessed the maintenance crawlspaces above the drop ceiling before triggering the external lockdown. He was moving through the facility's skeletal framework like a phantom.
The ventilation cover in the corner of the room groaned under strain. The screws holding the steel grate to the drywall began to back out, turning slowly as if driven by a mechanical driver from within the duct.
I couldn't engage in a firefight in this room—not with two seven-year-old girls trapped in the crossfire, and certainly not with Olivia slipping deeper into shock.
“Emma, take this,” I said quietly, reaching into my pocket and handing her my tactical flashlight. “When I open the side door to the holding cell corridor, I want you to slip inside with Olivia. Lock the manual latch from the inside. Do not open it for anyone unless you hear me give you our passcode.”
“What’s the passcode?” she asked, tears gleaming on her cheeks.
“Shoe,” I said softly. “Remember where you hid the truth.”
May you like
She nodded bravely. I scooped up Olivia, whose skin felt burning hot now, and moved swiftly into the adjoining security corridor, placing her on the bench inside the cell. Emma scrambled in after her, pulling the heavy iron door shut. The mechanical deadbolt clanked into place.
Just as the latch clicked, the ceiling tile in the briefing room caved inward with a deafening crash.
