Chapter 8 - BELOW THE HOUSE
There wasn't a bomb.
There was something worse.
A motion-triggered alarm wired to a sealed gas system in the basement archive.
Nathan stared at the pressure valves. "That system is for fire suppression."
Dr. Price shook his head. "Not anymore."
Cross had rerouted it.
If we opened the archive door the wrong way, inert gas would flood the room and drop the oxygen level within seconds. Anyone inside would lose consciousness before reaching the stairs.
"Why trap an archive?" I asked.
Nathan looked toward a steel cabinet in the far room.
"Because that's where I keep the original patent assignments."
Of course.
The drugging, the fake hearing decline, the marriage policy, the voting authority, the merger-it all led here.
They needed Nathan weak enough to sign.
Then dead enough not to undo it.
Sophia tugged my sleeve.
LIGHT. FLOOR.
A faint green beam crossed the doorway at ankle height.
Trip sensor.
Nathan crouched. "Good catch, Soph."
She smiled for half a second.
Then signed:
MORE.
There were three beams.
Mark found the electrical bypass. "I can kill the sensors, but it'll alert whoever set them."
"They already know we're here," Nathan said.
He looked at me. "When I say move, take Sophia and Mrs. Alvarez through the wine tunnel."
"The what?"
"Old service passage. Leads to the detached garage."
"And you?"
"I'm getting those patent files."
"No."
"Maya-"
"No heroic billionaire nonsense. You can barely hear, you've been drugged for months, and there are armed men upstairs."
He almost smiled. "That may be the nicest thing anyone's said to me all year."
Then the basement door slammed above us.
Cross's voice came through the stairwell.
"Mr. Cole? We need to talk."
Nathan pushed Sophia toward me.
"Go."
We ran for the tunnel.
May you like
Behind us, Nathan stayed beside the archive.
Cross came down the stairs carrying a canister of gasoline.
