Chapter 50
Navigating the kitchen was a masterclass in controlled adrenaline. Claire moved with the elegant authority of a seasoned event coordinator, barking soft but firm orders at a confused busboy to clear a path, effectively shielding Michael from the gaze of the head chef. They slipped through the west service corridor exactly as Ethan had instructed, reaching the heavy oak door that concealed the sub-basement stairwell.
The door was locked with a heavy, modern electronic keypad.
"Ethan, we're at the access door," Michael whispered, setting down his tray of champagne glasses on a nearby service cart.
"Uploading the bypass code to your smartwatch now," Ethan replied. "Hold your wrist directly to the scanner."
Michael raised his wrist. The watch emitted a soft, rapid sequence of infrared pulses. The keypad beeped happily, turning green. Michael quietly pulled the heavy door open, revealing a dark, descending concrete staircase. They slipped inside, pulling the door shut behind them, instantly cutting off the noise and music from the gala above.
The sub-basement was brutally utilitarian, devoid of the opulent luxury found upstairs. It smelled of ozone and cool, recycled air. They moved silently down the hallway until they reached the server room. The door was solid steel, featuring a complex retinal scanner and a biometric palm reader.
"This is it," Michael breathed, pulling a small, highly specialized toolkit from his pockets. "Ethan, how do we bypass the biometrics without triggering the alarms?"
"You don't," Ethan’s voice crackled. "If you tamper with the scanner, it triggers a silent alarm directly to Thorne’s private security detail. You have to use the physical fail-safe override. There should be a maintenance panel located near the floor vent to your left. You need to cross-wire the primary power feed."
Michael knelt on the floor, locating the panel. He unscrewed the metal grating, revealing a dense cluster of colored wires. "Okay, I see the primary power feed."
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"Claire," Ethan’s voice shifted, sounding suddenly urgent. "My algorithms are picking up a localized heat signature moving toward your position. One of Thorne's armed guards is conducting an unscheduled patrol of the sub-basement. He’s entering the stairwell right now."
Claire’s blood ran cold. She looked at Michael, who was elbow-deep in the electrical panel, entirely vulnerable. There was nowhere to hide in the sterile hallway.
