Chapter 18 - RACE AGAINST THE FLAMES
The metallic walls of the vault began to warm up.
Faint wisps of smoke began leaking through the rubber seal around the doorway.
The thermite charges in the sub-basement had already ignited.
“Five minutes remaining until primary detonation,” the automated computer voice announced.
The progress bar on Ethan’s phone reached ninety percent.
Ninety-five percent.
One hundred percent.
“Transfer complete.”
Ethan unplugged his phone and slipped it back into his inner jacket pocket.
He looked down at Eleanor, who was staring at the floor, shivering from panic and smoke inhalation.
“Can you unlock these handcuffs?” Eleanor asked, her voice small and desperate.
“If I open this door, you’re going to try to kill me,” Ethan said flatly.
“I swear I won't!” she begged, tears cutting streaks through the dust on her cheeks.
“I don't want to die, Ethan!”
“Please... for the sake of whatever was real between us!”
Ethan stared at her for three long seconds.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out the small brass handcuff key, and tossed it onto the floor in front of her.
“There is a ventilation escape hatch behind the pedestal,” Ethan said, pointing to a dark grate near the floor.
“It leads directly to the river drainage pipe outside.”
“You can try your luck in the water.”
Eleanor scrambled across the floor, grabbing the key with her bound hands and frantically picking the lock.
The cuffs snapped open and fell to the floor with a loud metallic clatter.
She rubbed her red, bruised wrists, looking up at Ethan with a mixture of shock and gratitude.
“Why are you helping me after everything I did to you?” she asked quietly.
“Because I am not like you,” Ethan replied coldly.
“Now move!”
Before Eleanor could reach the ventilation grate, a massive explosion rocked the factory floor outside.
BOOM!
The iron vault door was blasted off its heavy hinges, crashing inward and slamming into the glass pedestal.
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Shards of glass and chemical liquid sprayed across the room.
Through the thick smoke and orange flames standing in the doorway was Arthur, his face covered in soot, holding a heavy revolver in his hand.
