Chapter 2 - THE DOCTOR’S CONFESSION

“Dr. Aris, no!” I screamed, slamming my hands against the thick, bulletproof glass of the vault door.

The doctor stood on the other side, her face streaked with tears, her trembling thumb hovering over the red button of the detonator.

“She found me,” Dr. Aris sobbed through the crackling intercom. “Camilla found me yesterday. She took my little girl. She said if I didn’t lead you to the harbor and lock you in, she would kill her.”

“Aris, listen to me,” Adrian’s voice was remarkably calm, though his good hand gripped his weapon with white-knuckled tension. He stepped up beside me, keeping Elias shielded behind his body. “Camilla will kill your daughter anyway. She leaves no loose ends. Open this door. Let us help you.”

“I can’t risk it!” the doctor cried out, stepping backward. “The vault is rigged with C4. But I’m not going to blow it up. I... I altered the timer. You have ten minutes before the harbor water floods the vault. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She turned and ran.

“Aris!” Adrian roared, slamming his fist against the glass. It didn’t even spiderweb.

Deep beneath our feet, a massive mechanical grinding noise shuddered through the concrete. A second later, a high-pressure valve on the wall near the floor blew off.

Freezing, dark seawater began pouring into the room at a terrifying rate.

“Elias,” I gasped, rushing to the boy. I picked him up, hoisting him onto the metal counter that held the safety deposit boxes. He was shivering, his gray-blue eyes wide with a quiet, terrifying panic. He didn't cry. He just gripped my shirt, burying his face in my chest.

The water was already at our ankles. It was ice cold.

“Adrian, what do we do?” I asked, panic finally clawing at my throat as the water surged to our shins.

Adrian was running his hands over the vault walls, examining the hinges, the seals, the lock mechanism. His face was a mask of cold calculation.

“The glass is two inches thick. Bullets will just ricochet and hit us,” he muttered, more to himself than me. He sloshed through the rising water, checking the air vents. “Reinforced steel grates.”

The water hit our knees. The current from the open pipe was strong enough to push me off balance.

“Sarah,” Adrian said, turning to me. The water was rising faster than Aris had promised. We had maybe five minutes. “Think. The blueprints. You said you designed the security bypasses for my safe houses. This vault is owned by a shell company in my father's name. You researched this place. You put the ledger here for a reason. How do we get out?”

I closed my eyes, fighting the freezing terror creeping up my legs. I forced myself to breathe.

Memory. Come back. Please.

I pictured the blueprints. Lines of blue ink. Schematics of a harbor vault.

A flash of memory hit me like lightning.

Sitting at a desk, heavily pregnant. Adrian sleeping on the couch nearby. I am tracing a red pen over a structural weakness in a harbor vault. ‘Never build a secure room next to a drainage sluice,’ I had muttered in the memory.

My eyes snapped open.

“The floor!” I shouted over the roar of the incoming water. “It’s not solid concrete! This vault was retrofitted over an old prohibition-era smuggling tunnel. The floor tiles in the center are covering a wooden trapdoor that leads to the drainage sluice!”

Adrian didn’t ask questions. He waded to the center of the room, the water now at his waist. He dropped to his knees, completely submerging himself.

I held Elias tight against my chest on the counter, watching the dark water churn where Adrian had disappeared.

Ten seconds passed.

Twenty.

Thirty.

“Adrian!” I screamed, terror gripping my heart.

Suddenly, he burst out of the water, gasping for air. “I found it! But it’s bolted shut with a heavy padlock!”

He raised his gun, pointed it directly down into the water, and fired three times. The suppressed shots sounded like dull thuds beneath the surface.

He dove back under.

The water was at my chest now. Elias was whimpering, clinging to my neck.

“Hold on, baby,” I cried, pressing my cheek against his cold face. “Mommy’s got you. I’m right here.”

A massive whirlpool suddenly formed in the center of the room. The water level stopped rising, then began to suck downward with violent force.

Adrian emerged, coughing, water streaming from his dark hair. “The lock broke! The hatch is open. The water is draining into the sluice, but we have to jump before the pressure normalizes, or the hatch will snap shut!”

He waded over to me, fighting the intense suction of the draining water.

“I’ll take Elias,” Adrian yelled over the noise. “You jump first. I’m right behind you!”

I handed the terrified boy to his father. I didn't hesitate. I threw myself into the center of the whirlpool, plummeting through the open trapdoor.

I fell through the dark, sliding down a smooth, moss-covered concrete pipe for what felt like an eternity, until I was violently dumped into a shallow, freezing drainage canal outside the harbor warehouse.

Seconds later, Adrian came sliding out, holding Elias tight to his chest, shielding the boy’s head with his arms.

They splashed into the canal beside me.

We dragged ourselves onto the muddy bank, gasping for air, freezing, and soaked to the bone.

Adrian sat up, coughing up seawater. He looked at Elias, checking him over frantically. The boy was shivering violently, but he was unharmed.

Adrian pulled Elias into a desperate hug, burying his face in his son’s wet curls. Then, he reached out his good arm and pulled me into the embrace too.

For a second, the three of us held each other on the muddy bank. His heart pounded against mine.

“We made it,” Adrian whispered into my hair.

But as we pulled apart, the harsh glare of high-beam headlights suddenly illuminated the dark canal.

Three black SUVs had pulled up silently on the road above us.

Car doors slammed.

A dozen men in black tactical gear stepped out, leveling automatic rifles at us.

And from the center SUV, a woman stepped out. She wore a pristine white trench coat and a cruel, blood-red smile.

Camilla Corsetti.

“Did you really think a little water could keep you from me, Adrian?” Camilla sneered, looking down at us. She tossed a small object onto the mud at our feet.