Chapter 4 - THE PROHIBITION TUNNEL
The freezer was a terrifying minus ten degrees. Evelyn’s thin waitress uniform offered no protection, but adrenaline kept her moving. She pushed past hanging sides of beef and crates of lobsters to the frosted back wall. There was a latch, rusted but functional, hidden behind a shelving unit.
Gunfire hammered against the kitchen doors behind them. They were out of time.
Evelyn threw her weight against the latch. It wouldn't budge. Lorenzo stepped in, his broad shoulders easily forcing the heavy steel door open. Stale, freezing air rushed out from the darkness.
"Go," Lorenzo ordered. Evelyn plunged into the dark tunnel, feeling her way along the damp brick walls. Lorenzo followed, holding a small tactical flashlight, while his guard dragged a sobbing, limping Celeste behind them.
The tunnel was narrow and smelled of mildew and century-old rot. Above them, they could hear the muffled thumps of heavy boots stomping across the kitchen floor. The assassins were searching for them.
"How did you know?" Lorenzo asked, his voice echoing slightly in the confined space.
"Her phone," Evelyn panted, tripping over a loose brick. "I saw a text. It said 'North exit secured. Cleaners in position. 8:55'."
Lorenzo let out a dark, humorless laugh. "Celeste always was terrible at deleting her messages. What's your name, waitress?"
May you like
"Evelyn."
"Well, Evelyn," Lorenzo said, his flashlight illuminating a rusted iron ladder leading up to a street-level grate. "You just started a war. And you just became the most valuable player on my board."
