Chapter 35 NINETY SECONDS TO DEATH
The lights died in an instant.
A heavy, swallowing darkness rolled across the corridor, thick as smoke. Lea’s breath hitched, her fingers tightening around George’s arm on instinct. For a moment, all she heard was the shriek of metal settling and the faint crackle of scorched wiring in the walls.
Then the emergency lights flickered on, blood-red bars glowing along the floor and ceiling, stretching the corridor into a pulsing artery of dim light.
“Stay behind me,” George whispered.
He didn’t look back, but Lea felt the tension in him, the readiness. His body had shifted, spine straight, shoulders raised slightly, the way a man stands when he expects danger to come from every direction.
Another series of muffled booms echoed deep within the building. Not enough to bring it down, but enough to tremble through the floor like distant thunder.
Billy exhaled slowly. “That wasn’t an attack,” he muttered. “That was a warning.”
“From who?” Lea asked, though she already feared the answer.
“The same people we’re here to stop,” George replied. “And they know we’ve breached the top floor.”
He pressed two fingers to his earpiece. Only static crackled back.
“They cut our comms,” he said. “We’re blind.”
“Not completely,” Billy said. He stepped ahead, drawing the weapon tucked at his back. “You two follow. We need to get to the control room before they wipe the servers.”
Lea’s heart pounded as the three of them began to move. The emergency lights painted their shadows on the walls, long and distorted, as if something crawled just behind them.
Every step felt like walking deeper into the lungs of something alive.
The first sign that something was wrong came when they turned the corner and saw the overturned security desk. Papers littered the floor like fallen feathers. A metal chair lay twisted, one leg snapped.
George crouched beside it. “This wasn’t from the explosion,” he said quietly. “Someone fought here.”
Billy didn’t look surprised. “The Core doesn’t just guard information. It guards people who’d kill to protect it.”
Lea swallowed. “Then we’re walking straight toward them.”
“That’s the point,” Billy answered.
Before she could respond, a door on the far side of the hall creaked open.
George lifted his weapon instantly.
“Wait,” Lea whispered.
A figure stumbled out, blood streaking down his sleeve, one hand pressed to his ribs. His security badge hung crooked on his chest.
He stopped when he saw them, eyes wide with fear.
“You…you shouldn’t be here,” he stammered. “They sealed this floor. We’re under lockdown.”
“Who sealed it?” George asked.
The guard shook his head desperately. “I can’t say. I can’t, if they see me talking it won’t be good”
Billy stepped closer. “You can tell us, or you can bleed out here on the floor while they erase everything you ever worked for.”
The man’s breath came in ragged pulls. He glanced around, then leaned closer.
“It’s the Council,” he whispered. “They initiated Protocol Eleven.”
George’s eyes narrowed. “That protocol’s been inactive for years.”
“Not anymore,” the guard said. “They activated the purge.”
A cold weight settled in Lea’s stomach. “Purge?”
He nodded. “All data, all backups, the servers, everything. They’re erasing the Core tonight.”
“Why?” she asked.
The guard’s voice trembled. “Because they know someone broke in.”
Billy shot George a grim look. “We need to move.”
But just as they turned, the guard grabbed George’s sleeve. “Don’t go that way,” he begged. “They barricaded the central hall. They’re armed. They’re shooting anyone who approaches.”
George crouched beside him. “Where’s the alternate route to the control room?”
The guard pointed weakly toward a maintenance passage at the end of the corridor. “Through there. But it’s unstable. The explosions damaged the support beams.”
“We don’t have a choice,” George said. Then, softer, “Thank you.”
The guard managed a nod before slumping against the wall.
Lea’s chest tightened. Another casualty in a battle she still didn’t fully understand.
The maintenance passage looked nothing like the pristine corridors outside. The air was thick with dust and smelled of hot metal. Pipes lined both walls, groaning under strain. Part of the ceiling had caved inward, forcing them to crawl beneath a beam.
The entire space felt wrong, too narrow, too dim, too quiet.
“Stay close,” George murmured again.
Lea did. She watched his silhouette ahead of her, the way each movement was measured, controlled. Billy moved silently beside him, eyes sharp, scanning every creak and shift in the shadows.
Halfway through, a distant alarm blared.
Lea flinched. “What is that?”
“System purge countdown,” Billy said. “We’re running out of time.”
“Can we stop it?” she asked.
“We have to,” George answered. “If the servers go, we lose any chance of proving who’s behind the attempt on your life.”
A tremor ran through the floor as if the building itself were protesting their presence.
George stopped suddenly, raising a hand.
Billy froze. Lea held her breath.
A low hum vibrated through the narrow corridor, the sound of heavy machinery powering up. Then another noise joined it: footsteps. Several pairs. Moving fast.
“They know about the maintenance route,” Billy whispered.
Lea’s stomach dropped. “What do we do?”
“Move faster,” George said. “We’re almost…”
A burst of gunfire cut him off, ripping through the pipes beside them.
“Down!” he shouted, pulling Lea with him as sparks showered overhead.
The bullets kept coming, striking metal, ricocheting with sharp clangs. A pipe burst beside them, steam hissing out in a white cloud.
Billy returned fire blindly around the corner. “Three men,” he muttered. “Possibly four.”
“Cover me,” George said.
“George,” Lea grabbed his arm, panic clawing up her throat. “You can’t.”
He cupped the back of her head gently, pulling her forehead to his. “I have to,” he whispered. “If they trap us in here, we die.”
Her pulse roared in her ears.
“Trust me,” he said.
She did. God help her, she did.
George moved before she could speak, rolling across the narrow space and firing clean, controlled shots. Billy backed him up, advancing with a calculated precision Lea recognized from their earlier fight, a rhythm forged from knowing each other too well.
Between the hiss of steam and the harsh crack of weapons, the corridor filled with chaos, but George’s movements cut through it with purpose. Within moments, the footsteps retreated.
Then silence.
Billy exhaled sharply. “They’ll regroup. Let’s move.”
They pushed through the final bend of the passage, emerging into a wider hall illuminated by flashing emergency strobes.
A massive steel door stood at the far end.
“The control room,” George said.
Lea’s relief was short-lived, the door was sealed, a glowing red panel flashing: LOCKDOWN ACTIVE.
Billy cursed under his breath. “They closed it from the inside.”
George stepped to the panel. “I can override it.”
He pulled a small black device from his belt and pressed it to the lock. The screen flickered, codes scrolling rapidly.
Lea stood close behind him, watching the numbers blur. “George… what if we’re too late?”
His jaw tightened. “We’re not.”
The machine beeped. Once. Twice.
Then the panel flashed green.
The door hissed open.
Billy raised his weapon first, sweeping the room. “Clear.”
Lea stepped inside behind them.
She expected a room full of servers, screens, blinking lights. Instead, she saw a single massive circular console, glowing faintly, its screens showing lines of code that pulsed like a heartbeat.
George moved to the nearest station. “The purge is ninety percent complete. I can stop the last segment.”
Lea watched his fingers fly across the keys, sweat beading at his temples.
One minute. Two.
Then the overhead lights flickered violently.
Billy turned toward the door. “We’re not alone.”
A shadow shifted near the entrance.
Lea’s blood ran cold.
A tall figure stepped inside, slow and deliberate, hands clasped behind his back.
The Council insignia glinted on his lapel.
“Mr. Ernest,” the man said calmly, nodding to Billy. “Mr. Hale. Ms. Robert.”
Lea’s pulse stuttered.
George straightened. “You.”
The man smiled faintly. “Yes. Me.”
Billy raised his gun. “You triggered the purge.”
“Of course,” the man replied. “Loose threads must be trimmed.”
His gaze moved to Lea, studying her with cold disdain.
“Your survival,” he said, “was unintended. And inconvenient.”
George stepped between them. “You won’t touch her.”
The man didn’t flinch. “You cannot stop what has already begun.”
“I can stop this,” George said sharply. “The purge ends now.”
The Councilman’s eyes narrowed. “You misunderstand. The purge isn’t just for the servers.”
Lea’s breath hitched. “Then what is it?”
The man smiled.
“The purge,” he said, “is for all witnesses.”
Before George could react, the man reached inside his coat and pressed a small device.
A deafening alarm screamed to life.
Billy swore. “George”
George spun back to the console.
“Lea!” he shouted. “Get down!”
Because on the screen, flashing in violent red letters, was the final purge protocol:
FACILITY DECONTAMINATION: 90 SECONDS UNTIL RELEASE
Lea stared, horror freezing her in place. “George… what does that mean?”
He didn’t look back.
“It means…” he said, voice low and deadly calm, “they’re about to flood the entire building with a toxin.”
Billy grabbed Lea’s arm.
George slammed his hand onto the override command.
The Councilman bolted for the door.
George chased after him.
Alarms wailed. Lights strobed.
And Lea realized…
They would all die within ninety seconds unless George stopped him.