Chapter 5 - CHEMICAL WARFARE
Maya low-crawled toward the storage rack. She grabbed a heavy gallon jug of bleach and an equal-sized jug of ammonia floor stripper. Waiting until the sweep team was halfway down the aisle, she unscrewed the caps and hurled both jugs onto the concrete floor directly in their path.
The chemicals mixed instantly, bubbling into a vicious, burning white cloud.
The mercenaries began coughing violently, their eyes streaming. The K-9 whined in pain, its sensitive nose overwhelmed by the caustic gas, and bolted back out the door, dragging its handler with it.
"Now!" Maya yelled.
Sterling burst from cover. He didn't waste bullets; he used the heavy butt of the pistol, striking the first gasping mercenary in the temple, sending him crashing into a laundry cart. The second man swung his rifle blindly, but Sterling ducked under the barrel, delivering a punishing strike to the man's knee, followed by a vicious uppercut.
Within ten seconds, the sweep team was incapacitated on the floor, choking on the fumes. Maya and Sterling sprinted to the fire exit, bursting through the heavy doors and gasping for the cool, damp air of the underground maintenance tunnels.
"Remind me," Sterling gasped, coughing, "never to cross a housekeeper."
"Just pay us a living wage," Maya shot back, wiping her watering eyes.
They navigated the labyrinth of steam pipes and concrete corridors. Maya knew these tunnels; they connected the employee breakrooms to the loading docks.
"My contact at the FBI is Director Hayes," Sterling said as they walked. "If we can reach him, he can dispatch the Hostage Rescue Team. But they won't breach a Secret Service perimeter without absolute proof of a coup. We need a phone."
"The loading dock supervisor has an office up ahead," Maya said. "He keeps a burner phone in his desk for... illicit betting. It bypasses the hotel grid."
They reached the small, glass-walled office. The door was locked, but Sterling shattered the glass with the butt of his gun and reached through. Maya rummaged through the drawers, finally producing a cheap, prepaid flip phone.
She tossed it to him. Sterling quickly dialed a memorized number. It rang twice.
"Hayes," a deep voice answered.
"It's Marcus. My detail is compromised. Vance is dead. I have an entire hit squad crawling the Grand Plaza looking for me."
There was a long pause. "Where are you?"
"Sub-basement loading docks. I need HRT down here yesterday."
"Stay put, Marcus. I'm routing a trusted extraction team to the loading bay doors. ETA is ten minutes. Trust no one else."
Sterling hung up, letting out a breath. "Help is coming."
May you like
But Maya felt a cold knot form in her stomach. She looked at the flashing red light on the office's security camera.
"Governor," she whispered. "If this phone is off the grid, how did the camera just pivot to look at us?"
