Chapter 6 - The Vault of Secrets"Move!" Adrien grabbed Elena’s hand, his fingers intertwining with hers with an unshakeable grip, and sprinted down the underground corridor.
The tunnel ended at a heavy, vault-like steel door bearing the faded logo of Whitmore Holdings' original parent company: Atlas Maritime & Construction. Adrien punched a six-digit numerical sequence into the biometric keypad beside the door—his father’s birthday, combined with the date the company was founded.
The heavy locking mechanisms whined, and the steel door swung open, revealing a dry, climate-controlled subterranean bunker filled with rows of filing cabinets, computer servers, and stacked wooden crates.
They scrambled inside, and Adrien slammed the heavy vault door shut, throwing the manual deadbolts just as a muffled explosion echoed from the top of the stairs, followed by the sound of boots rushing down the spiral descent.
"They're at the inner stairwell," Elena said, immediately moving toward a central terminal station in the middle of the bunker. She dropped her tactical bag onto the desk, popped open the casing, and plugged a high-speed data drive directly into the master terminal. "If I can bypass the firewall, I can upload the 1998 forensic accounting files and the audio confessions to every federal regulatory agency and major news outlet simultaneously."
"Do it," Adrien said, standing guard by the vault door with his Sig Sauer raised, listening to the heavy thudding of boots approaching their final sanctuary. "How long?"
"Three minutes!" Elena’s fingers flew across the keyboard like a pianist possessed by demons. "The encryption on these servers is military-grade. Marcus Vance didn't just hide these files; he locked them inside a digital maze."
Outside the thick steel door, a heavy mechanical saw whined to life. Sparks began to spray through the hairline crack at the top of the door frame as the hit squad started cutting through the hinges.
"Two minutes, Elena!" Adrien shouted over the screech of metal grinding against steel.
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"I'm working as fast as I can!" she yelled back, her eyes glued to the monitor as a progress bar crept slowly across the screen: 74%... 81%... 90%...
The top hinge of the vault door blew off with a deafening shriek of tearing metal. The door tilted inward, and the barrel of an assault rifle shoved through the gap.
