Chapter 6 - The Descent Through Smoke and Steel
The heavy metal fire extinguisher struck Marcus Vance’s shoulder with a hollow, brutal thud, spinning the mercenary off balance and sending his suppressed pistol discharging into the elevator ceiling in a shower of sparks.
“Move!” Luke yelled, grabbing Grace’s hand and dragging her toward the open stairwell door.
Ava clung to Luke’s chest, burying her face as the echoes of the gunshot reverberated down the metal-lined corridors. Behind them, Vance cursed savagely, shoving his wounded partner aside as he recovered his footing and raised his weapon again.
RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT.
Bullets chewed through the reinforced drywall inches above Luke’s head, showering them with plaster dust. But they were already through the threshold. Luke slammed the heavy steel fire door shut behind them and threw the manual deadbolt just as a heavy boot slammed against the other side.
“Down!” Luke ordered, scooping Grace closer as they began descending the concrete stairs at a reckless speed.
Every step sent a jolt of pain through Grace’s exhausted frame, but she didn't complain. She moved with a desperate, adrenaline-fueled focus, her eyes fixed on the neon green exit signs marking each landing.
They reached the sub-basement level six floors down, bursting through a set of double louvers into the hospital’s subterranean service corridor. It was a labyrinth of exposed steam pipes, humming electrical transformers, and rolling laundry bins.
“Where to?” Grace gasped, her hand pressed against her side.
“4th Street loading dock,” Luke said, scanning the concrete hallway. “Miller said ADA Reed would be waiting with a secure transport.”
Before they could take three steps, a set of side utility doors burst open fifty feet ahead of them. Two security guards wearing dark VANGUARD insignias stepped into the corridor, flashlights sweeping the gloom.
“There they are! Cut them off!” one shouted.
Luke shoved Grace and Ava behind a massive commercial linen trolley. Without hesitation, he grabbed a heavy iron wrench resting on a maintenance cart and hurled it down the hall. It struck a stack of empty plastic crates, sending them crashing across the floor and distracting the guards just long enough for Luke to draw Sergeant Miller’s service pistol—which Miller had managed to slide across the floor before losing consciousness.
Luke didn't aim to kill. He raised the weapon and fired a single shot into the overhead fluorescent fixture above the guards.
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Glass shattered in a blinding shower of sparks, plunging the hallway into deep, flickering shadow.
“Run!” Luke shouted.
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