Chapter 6 - The Server Room
The air in the basement was heavy, cold, and smelled sharply of copper and damp concrete.
My flashlight beam cut through the dark, illuminating the thick copper pipes running along the ceiling. My heart hammered against my ribs with every step, my hands resting instinctively over my belly to shield my kicking daughter from the vibrations of the mansion above.
From down the long stone corridor, the rhythmic tapping of high heels stopped abruptly, followed by the heavy metallic clunk of an electronic vault door being forced open.
I pressed my back against the cold brick wall, pulling my flashlight back to avoid giving away my position. Marcus caught up to me, his soft leather shoes making almost no noise as he fell into step behind me, his weapon raised.
We turned the corner into the master server room.
The room was bathed in the eerie blue glow of dozens of server racks, their cooling fans whirring loudly against the silence.
Fiona Vale was standing at the main terminal console, a high-speed encrypted flash drive plugged into the central unit. Her fingers flew across the keyboard as a progress bar on the screen ticked upward: Data Purge Sequence: 68% Complete.
Her diamond choker glinted under the blue LED lights—the diamond choker my cheating husband had bought her with stolen money.
“Step away from the keyboard, Fiona,” Marcus Vance commanded, stepping out into the open doorway with his gun locked onto her chest.
Fiona didn't freeze. Instead, she slowly turned her head, a cold, unhinged smile spreading across her dark lipstick.
“You’re too late, Detective,” she whispered, her voice bouncing off the metal server racks. “In sixty seconds, every digital footprint connecting Hensley Global, the Dre offshore trusts, and my private clients will be erased forever. Your investigation dies right here.”
“And what about the sixty people upstairs?” I asked, stepping out from behind Marcus, my flashlight shining directly into her eyes. “What about the innocent servers, the caterers, the elderly investors? Were they just 'acceptable losses' on your spreadsheet?”
Fiona sneered at me, her polished mask completely gone, revealing the pure, predatory coldness beneath. “In business, Serena, everything is an acceptable loss if the margin is high enough. You should have stayed home in your little nursery instead of playing hero in a room full of wolves.”
She suddenly reached behind the terminal and pulled out a heavy steel emergency crowbar she had grabbed from the maintenance wall.
With a vicious, desperate scream, she swung the crowbar not at Marcus or me, but directly at the main gas regulator pipe running along the basement wall!
CRACK!
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The heavy iron pipe ruptured with a deafening hiss. High-pressure natural gas began spewing into the enclosed server room, filling the air with a suffocating, lethal cloud!
“Out! Now!” Marcus yelled, lunging forward to tackle Fiona before she could strike a second spark against the concrete floor!
