Chapter 7 - THE BREAKOUT PROTOCOLThe corridor erupted into chaos the moment Marcus disabled the biometric lock.
"Get behind me!" I yelled, catching the heavy Glock Marcus tossed my way. The cold steel felt foreign and heavy in my trembling hands, but the adrenaline rushing through my veins drowned out any hesitation. I scooped Leo up into my arms, pressing his face into my shoulder so he couldn't see the blood or the guns.
"Move! Through the sub-level armory!" Marcus barked, firing two precise shots into the overhead security cameras, blinding the control room's primary visual feeds in a shower of sparks.
The guards hesitated, caught between their allegiance to Arthur Vance and the terrifying reality of Marcus's dead-man's-switch timer blinking relentlessly on the titanium drive. That hesitation was all the advantage we needed.
We sprinted down the narrow concrete corridor, the sound of our boots echoing like thunderous gunfire. Sarah stumbled out of the adjacent holding alcove, clutching her ribs, but she caught up with us in long, desperate strides, her eyes fierce and unbroken.
"Claire, give me the boy!" Sarah gasped, her voice raw as she intercepted us near the heavy steel blast doors of the sub-level armory. "You can't carry him and shoot!"
I hesitated for a fraction of a second, then handed Leo over. The moment Sarah’s arms wrapped around her son, a primal, fierce wave of relief washed over Leo’s pale face. He buried his face in her neck, clinging to her like he would never let go.
"Marcus, the manual override!" Sarah yelled over the wailing klaxons that now filled the entire facility as the facility's automated defense protocols kicked in.
"Working on it!" Marcus slammed his palm against a heavy analog keypad beside the blast door, punching in a rapid sequence of numbers.
A loud pneumatic hiss echoed through the hallway, and the ten-inch-thick steel door began to slowly crank open, revealing the cavernous underground motor pool where two armored all-terrain vehicles sat waiting.
Suddenly, a heavy burst of automatic gunfire raked across the concrete wall beside us, sending shards of stone and plaster flying into our faces.
"They're coming from the main stairwell!" I shouted, spinning around and raising the Glock, squeezing my eyes half-shut and pulling the trigger three times down the empty corridor. The deafening roar of the gun nearly burst my eardrums, but it bought us precious seconds as the pursuing guards scrambled for cover.
"Door's open! Go, go, go!" Marcus roared, shoving us all through the narrow gap of the half-open blast door.
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We scrambled into the nearest armored personnel carrier. Marcus slammed himself into the driver's seat, ripped the manual ignition toggle, and punched the accelerator so hard the vehicle lurched forward, smashing directly through the facility's secondary security gates and plunging out into the torrential mountain rain.
Behind us, the Blackwood facility’s main lighting grid flickered, died, and plunged the entire mountainside into absolute darkness, save for the red tail-lights of our vehicle disappearing into the pine forests of the Cascades.
