Chapter 232 Hunting Them In The Dark

Chapter 232 Hunting Them In The Dark
I typed the override sequence. The code required a twelve-character password. I entered the letters and numbers. My fingers did not shake. The fear morphed into a cold, calculated focus. Victor wanted a spectacle. We would give him a tomb.

I pressed the enter key.

A warning prompt flashed on the screen in bright yellow text.

WARNING: MANUAL OVERRIDE WILL TERMINATE ALL AUXILIARY POWER. PROCEED?

I looked at the lobby feed one last time. Victor directed his men toward the east stairwell. They carried heavy canvas bags filled with explosives. They moved with lethal intent.

I pressed the confirmation key.

The red emergency lights in the server room died.

The blue glow of the monitors vanished.

The deep, vibrating hum of the massive cooling fans wound down to a slow, dying mechanical groan.

Then, utter silence.

Total, pitch-black darkness swallowed the room.

I sat on the metal stool. I could not see my own hands. I could not see the console in front of me. The absence of light felt heavy, a physical weight pressing against my chest. The chilled air bit at my cheeks.

A sound broke the quiet. The rustle of fabric.

Sebastian moved closer. He stood right beside my chair. His thigh brushed against my knee. I reached out in the dark. My fingers found the rough denim of his jeans. I gripped the fabric.

"It is done," I whispered. My voice sounded thin in the dead space.

"The building is black," Sebastian confirmed. His deep voice resonated right above my head.

He reached down. He found my shoulder. His hand slid up my neck, his thumb resting against my jaw. The contact anchored me.

"Victor is blind," Sebastian said. "He sits at the bottom of a dark well. He has to climb seventy floors to reach us."

"Your men have tactical flashlights," I said.

"They have night vision optics stored in the armory on floor thirty," Sebastian corrected. "Bob will distribute the gear. My men will see in the dark. Victor's men will shoot at shadows."

The tactical shift felt brilliant and terrifying. We turned our corporate headquarters into a massive, unlit hunting ground.

"We need to leave the server room," Sebastian instructed. He kept his hand on my neck. "The electronic locks failed. The door is a manual pull. We move to the executive office. We secure the heavy deadbolts."

I stood up from the stool. I did not let go of his leg. He grabbed my hand. His calloused fingers wrapped around mine.

We moved through the pitch-black space. He navigated the narrow aisle between the dead server racks from memory. We reached the heavy steel door. Sebastian pushed the manual release bar. The door groaned open.

We stepped into the concealed corridor. The darkness here felt even thicker.

We walked down the hall and emerged into my massive corner office.

Faint, ambient light filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The glow of the city grid outside offered a weak, gray illumination. The storm clouds masked the moon. The rain continued to lash against the reinforced glass.

The office looked like a graveyard of expensive furniture. The mahogany desk sat empty. The leather sofas looked like dark, crouching shapes.

Sebastian walked to the heavy double doors leading to the main executive hallway. He threw the heavy brass deadbolts. The metal clicked into the striker plates with a solid, reassuring sound.

He turned around. He looked at me across the room. The weak city light caught the sharp angles of his face. He looked dangerous. He looked ready to kill.

He walked back to my desk. He opened the bottom drawer. He reached inside and pulled out a long, black object.

He handed it to me.

I took the heavy metal cylinder. A tactical flashlight.

"Keep it off," Sebastian warned. "Light draws bullets. Use it only if you lose sight of me."

I gripped the cold metal. I nodded.

He pulled a spare magazine from his belt and set it on the edge of the desk. He checked the chamber of his gun again. The repetitive motion revealed his coiled tension. He waited for the fight to reach our floor.

I walked around the desk. I stood beside him. I looked out the massive windows. The rest of the city glowed with electricity and life. Our skyscraper stood as a dark, silent monolith in the center of the skyline.

"He will climb the stairs," I said.

"He will try," Sebastian replied.

A deep, muffled boom echoed through the floorboards. The sound traveled up the steel skeleton of the building.

My breath hitched. I looked down at the floor.

"Breaching charge," Sebastian identified the noise. "They blew the doors to the ground floor stairwell."

Another boom followed a few seconds later. The sound felt slightly closer.

They blew the secondary doors.

The siege began.

Victor Salazar started his climb. He brought his weapons and his hatred into the dark. He wanted to tear our lives apart. He wanted to watch us bleed.

Sebastian raised his handgun. He pointed the barrel toward the heavy oak doors of the office. He planted his feet. He stood between me and the hallway.

A harsh, metallic screech echoed up the empty elevator shafts. The sound of heavy boots hitting metal stairs followed. The noise drifted up from the lower levels, a slow, rhythmic drumbeat of incoming death.

They were in the walls. They were coming up.