Chapter 8 - The Descent
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Elena scrambled into the dark, soot-stained maintenance shaft, grabbing the cold metal rungs of the ladder and beginning her descent. She didn't look down into the pitch-black abyss; she kept her eyes fixed upward, praying Dante would follow.
A deafening explosion blew the library doors completely off their hinges.
Dante unleashed a relentless, devastating barrage of automatic gunfire through the smoke and splintered wood, dropping the first wave of mercenaries attempting to breach the room. The sheer volume of fire forced the remaining attackers to dive for cover in the hallway.
Using the momentary suppression, Dante slung his rifle over his shoulder and dove into the fireplace, pulling the hidden stone door shut behind him. The heavy latch clicked into place just as bullets began peppering the stone hearth outside.
He grabbed the ladder, sliding down rapidly until his boots hit the grated metal landing of the fortieth floor, right beside Elena.
“Are you hit?” Elena demanded, her hands frantically checking his chest and arms in the dark.
“I’m fine,” Dante breathed heavily, catching her hands and squeezing them reassuringly. “The stone wall will hold them off for a few minutes, but they’ll find the lever eventually. We need to move.”
He pushed open the access panel on the landing, stepping out into a deserted, unfinished corporate office space on the fortieth floor. The power was out here as well, the massive floor completely dark, illuminated only by the storm raging outside the windows.
Dante tapped his earpiece. “Silas. We are on floor forty. North quadrant. What is your status?”
Static hissed in his ear. The signal was being jammed.
“They cut the comms,” Dante cursed softly, drawing his pistol. “Cole is using military-grade jammers. We are completely cut off from the ground team.”
“Then we go down,” Elena said, her voice remarkable steady. She raised her weapon, moving beside him like a seasoned partner rather than a civilian wife. “The emergency stairwell is at the south end of the floor.”
They moved silently through the labyrinth of exposed steel studs and hanging wires. Every shadow felt like a threat. They reached the heavy fire door of the south stairwell without incident.
Dante slowly pushed the door open, aiming his weapon into the dark, echoing shaft. It was clear.
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“Down,” he whispered.
They began the long, agonizing descent, completely unaware of the trap waiting for them at the bottom.
