Chapter 6 - THE TICKING CLOCK IN THE WALLSAt 3:14 AM, the high-tech tactical monitors in the basement suddenly flickered, turning from crystal-clear satellite feeds to heavy static hiss.
“Boss,” Marcus said, his voice dropping an octave as he tapped the master console. “We’ve lost external sensor feeds. Someone is jamming our local frequencies.”
Vincent stood up instantly, his relaxed demeanor vanishing, replaced by the razor-sharp instincts of a seasoned commander. “EMP pulse. Or a localized hardware override. Where?”
“Sector Four,” Marcus replied, studying a secondary analog diagnostic panel. “The primary HVAC intake directly beneath the main dining room.”
My mother woke up with a start at the sound of our raised voices, clutching my small hand as I rubbed my eyes sleepily. “What’s happening? Is it Viktor?”
“Stay here,” Vincent commanded, drawing his SIG Sauer once more. He motioned to four of his heaviest hitters. “Marcus, sweep the perimeter. Check the ventilation shafts for remote detonators. Viktor isn’t just planning to raid us—he’s planning to bury us.”
Marcus and his team sprinted up the concrete stairs into the restaurant above.
Silence descended upon the basement war room—a heavy, suffocating silence broken only by the low hum of the emergency generators.
Then, a faint, rhythmic sound echoed from inside the metallic duct right above our heads.
Click... tick... click... tick...
My mother’s face turned completely white. “Rory... stay behind me.”
I looked up at the ceiling vent, blinking sleepily. “Mom, why is there a little red light blinking in the wall?”
Vincent, who had been halfway up the stairs, stopped dead in his tracks. He spun around, sprinting back down with terrifying speed. He looked up at the ventilation grate. Through the metal slats, a tiny LED bulb flashed a relentless, angry crimson.
“C-4 explosive with a remote proximity trigger,” Vincent said, his voice dangerously calm. “Marcus! Report!”
The radio crackled with static, followed by Marcus’s breathless voice: “Boss! The shafts are booby-trapped! We’ve got thermal tripwires across every primary exit! If we move through the stairwells, we trigger the whole chain!”
“How much time do we have left on the timer?” my mother cried out, tears finally breaking free.
Vincent looked at the digital readout on the explosive device visible through the grate.
“Three minutes and fourteen seconds,” Vincent said. He didn't hesitate for a single second. He holstered his gun, grabbed a heavy iron crowbar from the maintenance corner, and leaped onto a steel table, jamming the tool directly into the bolted ventilation grate.
“Mr. Kane, you can’t disarm that yourself!” my mother yelled over the ticking sound. “It’s rigged! Let’s run through the emergency sewer drain—”
“The sewer drain was sealed by the city council three months ago,” Vincent grunted, putting his entire body weight into prying the heavy metal grate open. Sparks flew as the industrial screws sheared off one by one. “And if we run, Viktor’s sniper teams outside will pick us off before we reach the alley.”
With a deafening CRACK, the ventilation grate gave way, crashing onto the concrete floor.
May you like
Inside the dark, narrow shaft, a compact brick of military-grade C-4 flashed its red LED timer with terrifying speed: 01:45... 01:44... 01:43...
Vincent reached his bare hands inside the suffocating dark metal tunnel, his fingers searching for the primary detonation circuit.
