Chapter 5 - The Glass Trap
Viktor stepped into the library, his heavy tactical boots crunching against the hard edge of the rug.
He raised his flashlight, the bright, concentrated beam of white light cutting through the shadows like a blade.
"Hey, Ray!" Viktor shouted back over his shoulder toward the living room. "I told you I heard something in here! Get over here!"
Elena pressed herself flat against the dark mahogany base of my massive writing desk, her face pressed into the carpet, her eyes closed tight. The black encrypted drive in her jacket pocket felt heavy, cold, and lethal against her ribs.
The flashlight beam swept across the room—scanning the leather sofas, the glass coffee table, the brass rolling ladder, and the south wall.
The beam stopped dead on the third shelf of the bookcase.
The four missing volumes of the Encyclopædia Britannica were sitting in plain view on the floor. The safe door was standing wide open.
"Holy shit," Viktor muttered, raising his pistol with both hands. "Ray! Someone’s in the library! Lock the front elevator!"
Heavy footsteps thundered down the hallway as the second guard ran toward the room.
Viktor began advancing slowly into the library, his flashlight beam darting frantically across the floor, searching for a shadow, a movement, a breathing form.
"Come out! Hands where I can see 'em!" Viktor roared, his voice echoing off the tall plaster ceiling.
Elena knew she had five seconds before he walked around the edge of the desk and saw her lying on the carpet.
She looked at the small brass screwdriver still clutched in her right hand. Then she looked at the heavy glass decanter sitting on the lowest shelf of the bar cart eighteen inches to her left—a twenty-year-old single malt scotch decanter worth three thousand dollars.
With a quiet, desperate prayer, Elena reached out, grabbed the crystal stopper of the decanter, and hurled it with all her strength across the dark room toward the far eastern corner near the French balcony doors.
CRASH!
The heavy crystal shattered against the glass window frame, spraying amber liquid and sharp shards across the floor.
Viktor spun around instantly, his pistol and flashlight shifting toward the noise. "There! By the window!"
He lunged toward the eastern corner of the room, his eyes fixed on the fluttering velvet curtains near the balcony door.
In that single second of misdirection, Elena scrambled to her feet like a cat. She didn't head for the main hallway doors where the second guard was running in.
She dove headfirst back into the small rectangular opening of the HVAC access panel beneath the shelf, sliding her body into the dark ductwork just as Viktor turned back toward the sound of her movement.
"Hey!" Viktor screamed, turning back to see her rubber-soled shoes disappearing into the wall. "What the fuck!"
He fired two rapid shots.
BANG! BANG!
The deafening ear-splitting cracks of the gunshot echoed in the small room. The bullets punched through the mahogany bookcase six inches above Elena’s head, spraying white drywall dust and wood splinters across her back.
Elena screamed silently, dragging herself backward through the metal ductwork with terrifying speed, her knees and elbows scraping against the cold galvanized steel.
She reached the utility closet, threw herself out of the vent opening, and slammed the steel vent grate shut behind her. She didn't bother with the screws. She grabbed her screwdriver, sprinted across the dark utility room, and threw her weight against the emergency manual release lever of the freight elevator.
The heavy steel lift doors unlatched. She dove inside, smashed her palm against the red BASEMENT - DIRECT OVERRIDE button, and collapsed onto the metal floor.
Above her, she could hear Viktor roaring in rage as he hammered against the heavy locked door of the utility room.
The freight elevator plummeted downward, shaking violently as it descended through the building's shaft.
Floor 3... Floor 2... Floor 1... Sub-Level 1.
The doors slid open into the cold, rainy darkness of the basement alleyway.
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Elena didn't look back. She threw herself out into the pouring rain, sprinting through the dark alley toward the street, her rain jacket soaked, the satellite phone and the black encrypted drive clutched tightly against her chest.
She had done it.
