Chapter 3 - Underneath the Iron Shelves"Mom!" Lucas screamed, dropping his backpack and charging toward the screen as if he could physically jump through the glass.
On the live feed, Clara was pinned. Her gray cleaning uniform was stained with a pale blue chemical spill leaking from a punctured drum beside her. Her face was deathly pale, her eyes squeezed shut in agony as she struggled to push away a heavy steel crossbeam resting squarely across her right leg.
"Security team is already five minutes out," Sarah’s voice trembled over the intercom. "The weight of those solvent drums is over two tons. The hydraulic jacks on that floor are manual, and the maintenance override code hasn't been entered by a supervisor. It'll take at least twenty minutes to cut through the security shutters!"
"Twenty minutes and her leg is crushed," Thomas muttered, his calm exterior cracking wide open. He didn't hesitate for a second.
He ripped off his tailored suit jacket, tossing it onto the conference table, and began rolling up his French-cuffed sleeves.
"Lucas," Thomas said sharply, grabbing the boy by both shoulders to force him to look away from the screen. "Listen to me. Your contract went into effect thirty seconds ago. Your mom is officially on leave. Now, we go collect."
Before Lucas could process what was happening, Thomas sprinted toward a private, biometric-locked elevator hidden behind a mahogany paneling wall in his office. He slammed his palm against the scanner.
“Access granted, President Laurent. Emergency override engaged: Sub-Level Freight.”
They didn't wait for the regular elevator. They dropped into the guts of the skyscraper like a stone, the G-force pressing the air out of Lucas's lungs.
When the doors slammed open, they were met with billowing white smoke and a pungent, choking smell of industrial ammonia. Sirens wailed in the distance. Red emergency strobe lights painted the concrete corridor in bloody flashes.
"Stay behind me!" Thomas barked, tearing down the corridor with a speed that shocked Lucas.
They burst into Sector Four. The scene was worse in person. The towering shelving unit had collapsed like a house of cards, pinning Clara against a reinforced concrete pillar. Her breathing was shallow, ragged, and terrifyingly weak.
"Clara!" Thomas shouted, sliding across the slick, chemical-coated floor. He threw his entire weight against the steel beam trapping her leg.
It didn't even budge. A groan escaped Thomas's throat as the cold iron bit into his hands, the metal shrieking against the concrete.
"Mr. Laurent... please..." Clara whispered through cracked, bleeding lips, her eyes fluttering open. She didn't look at Thomas; her gaze locked onto the small shadow standing behind him. "Lucas...? Baby, what are you... you shouldn't be here..."
"I bought your day off, Mom!" Lucas cried, dropping to his knees beside her, ignoring the chemical burns starting to prickle his skin. "I paid him! Look! Mr. Buttons is safe!"
"You fool..." Clara choked out, a tear carving a clean path through the grime on her face. "You shouldn't have... the safe... the safe in my locker..."
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Thomas stopped straining against the beam. His eyes narrowed. "What safe, Clara?"
Before she could answer, a loud, metallic pop echoed from deep within the leaning shelving unit. The remaining structural bolts snapped, and the entire two-ton wall of chemical drums began to tilt directly toward them.
