Chapter 502
Chapter 502:
She burst through the door to Sub-Level 3.
A heavy steel blast door blocked her path—the entrance to the Vault.
A card reader waited beside it.
Skye reached into her collar and pulled out the Black Card she had stolen from King. It was warm from her skin.
She swiped it.
BEEP. ACCESS GRANTED.
The light turned green. The heavy bolts retracted.
Skye threw her weight against the door and stumbled inside. She spun the wheel to lock it behind her just as the stairwell door above slammed open. Kael had arrived.
“Open up!” Kael shouted, pounding on the steel.
Skye ignored him. She turned around.
She was in a long, dark corridor lined with server racks. The hum of cooling fans was deafening.
At the far end of the corridor, a figure crouched over a console, typing furiously.
He looked up as she entered. He wore tactical gear, his face smeared with grease, a submachine gun slung across his back.
Alistair.
He didn’t check his watch. He didn’t smirk. He looked at her—really looked at her—scanning for injuries.
“Clear,” he said into his headset. “Asset secured p>
He stood and ran to her.
Skye collided with him, burying her face in his chest. He smelled of gunpowder and rain.
“I got held up,” Skye sobbed, the relief finally breaking through.
“I know,” Alistair said, his voice rough.
He held her tight for one second, then pulled back. “We have to go. They’re cutting through the door p>
He led her to the service elevator at the back of the vault. The panel was ripped open, wires exposed—he had hotwired it. Behind them, the door began to hiss as a thermal lance cut through the lock.
Alistair hit the button. The elevator doors closed, sealing them in.
R𝘰𝗆а𝗇𝘤e 𝗻o𝘷𝖾𝘭ѕ 𝗼n 𝘣𝖾lո𝗼𝘷e𝘭s.𝖼𝗈𝘮
“Going down,” Alistair said, pulling a detonator from his belt. “To the tunnels p>
He pressed the trigger.
Above them, a muffled explosion shook the shaft. The server room—and all of Lucian’s leverage—was gone.
The elevator descended into the dark earth beneath Las Vegas.
Skye Sterling was gone. The Oracle had vanished. And the war had just begun.
The industrial elevator shuddered violently as it hit the damp concrete floor of the shaft, the impact vibrating through the soles of Skye’s shoes. The air down here was different—stale, heavy, and smelling of wet earth, old copper wiring, and the lingering, acrid scent of ozone from the fried circuits above.
Alistair checked the magazine of his submachine gun, his movements sharp and practiced. He looked at Skye. Her face was pale, smeared with grease and sweat, her red qipao torn at the hem to allow for movement. She looked like a broken doll, but her eyes were burning with a fierce, terrifying will to survive.
“We move together,” Alistair said, his voice low and uncompromising. He gripped her arm, his touch grounding her amid the chaos. “The blast upstairs will bring Kael and his dogs down the main shaft. We need to reach the south maintenance tunnel before they cut off the airflow p>
He reached into his tactical vest and pulled out two items: a small black pistol and a sleek, encrypted USB drive.
“Take this,” Alistair commanded, pressing the cold metal of the gun into her hand, followed by the drive. “The pistol is for insurance. The drive is the payload—the worm program. If we get separated, do not let them take it. It’s our only leverage p>