Chapter 148 Check the Location
Chapter 148 Check the Location
"Sebastian, look up the coordinates I just sent you right now."
Rapid keyboard clicking came through the phone almost immediately.
Sebastian's voice carried a hint of shock he couldn't quite hide.
"Penelope, these coordinates point to Willowbrook Street in Harborview City's old district."
"There's a pawnshop there that's been abandoned for exactly ten years."
Penelope narrowed her eyes slightly, fingers tapping the desk in a steady rhythm.
"What's so special about some rundown abandoned pawnshop?"
Sebastian took a sharp breath, his words coming out in a rush.
"Twenty years ago, that pawnshop was your mother's secret meeting point."
"But the strangest part is the ownership records."
"The registered owner is a man named Peter Lee, who died in a car accident fifteen years ago."
Penelope's pupils shrank sharply, her heart lurching out of control.
A dead man's pawnshop, hiding a lead on Preston.
This was no coincidence. Someone had deliberately left this as a trail.
"Send me the floor plan. I'm going there myself."
Penelope hung up and grabbed her car keys off the desk, heading straight for the door.
The door to the surveillance room swung open hard from the outside.
Dominic walked in wearing a fresh black tactical outfit.
His abdominal wound had been stitched up, but his face was still frighteningly pale.
"Ms. Hartwell, it's extremely dangerous out there right now. I have to go with you."
He planted his large frame firmly in the doorway, leaving no room for argument.
Penelope gave him a cold look, her face full of irritation.
"What exactly can you do in that half-dead state of yours?"
Dominic didn't budge. He reached out and took the car keys straight from her hand.
"Driving is enough. I'm not letting you walk into danger alone."
He turned and headed for the elevator, giving Penelope no chance to refuse.
At three-thirty in the morning, a black SUV rolled into Harborview City's old district.
The silence inside the car felt almost eerie, broken only by the low hum of the engine.
Penelope sat in the passenger seat, eyes fixed on the night scenery rushing past the window.
She caught a faint smell of blood drifting from the driver's seat beside her.
"Dom, you'd better pray that wound doesn't tear open on the way there."
She didn't turn her head, just broke the silence in that flat, cold tone of hers.
Dominic kept both hands steady on the wheel, eyes locked on the road ahead.
"Don't worry, Ms. Hartwell. Even if it kills me, I'll get you back to Quantum Nexus Labs safely."
His voice was still hoarse, but the certainty behind it was impossible to doubt.
Hearing him toss around the word "kill" so casually made Penelope even more irritated.
She turned and shot Dominic a hard look.
"Your life belongs to me now. I'm not giving you permission to die, so you'd better stay alive."
The words came out completely domineering, every bit the tone of someone used to being in charge.
The corner of Dominic's mouth twitched up the tiniest bit, then quickly flattened again.
"Understood, Ms. Hartwell."
He answered without any resistance and pushed the speed up a little more.
About fifteen minutes later, the SUV finally turned onto Willowbrook Street.
The street was narrow and run-down, with more than half the streetlights dead.
The SUV came to a smooth stop in front of a two-story old building at the end of the alley.
A battered signboard hung above the weathered wooden door, barely holding on.
In the harsh glare of the headlights, the name of the pawnshop was just barely readable.
Dominic pushed open his door and swept the thick darkness around them with sharp eyes.
He pulled a tactical flashlight from his belt and positioned himself firmly in front of Penelope.
"Stay close behind me. Step where I step. Don't touch anything."
He kept his voice low, then slowly pushed open the old wooden door. A heavy wave of mold hit them immediately.
---
The inside of the pawnshop was a mess, thick cobwebs covering everything.
Behind the tall counter sat a row of rosewood cabinets coated in dust.
Penelope wore a medical mask, her sharp eyes scanning every dark corner.
"The coordinates point to right below this counter."
She raised her hand and pointed at the base of the counter, completely buried under layers of dust.
Dominic walked over immediately, crouched down, and knocked carefully along the floor tiles.
His fingers stopped at the edge of one tile that was slightly darker than the rest.
"It's hollow underneath. There's a deep hidden compartment here."
He pulled out his black tactical knife and pried hard along the tile's edge.
The old tile came up, revealing a dark square cavity beneath.
Dominic reached inside and felt around, then pulled out something heavy.
It was a brass box, its surface thick with green patina.
Penelope leaned in for a closer look, her brow furrowing tight.
On the front of the box sat an incredibly complex sixteen-digit mechanical combination lock.
This kind of old mechanical lock had extremely precise internal mechanisms. Force it open and it would self-destruct.
"Without the combination, there's no way we're getting this open."
Penelope bit down hard on her lip, a flash of frustration crossing her eyes.
But Dominic clamped the flashlight between his teeth and lifted the brass box steadily with both hands.
"When this kind of mechanical lock turns, the gears make an extremely faint clicking sound."
"If your hearing is sharp enough, you can feel out exactly where each gear catches."
He closed his eyes and pressed his ear firmly against the cold brass surface.
Dominic's fingers held the first dial with complete steadiness.
He began turning it slowly, in a careful and even rhythm.
Penelope stood beside him, barely breathing without even realizing it.
She watched the sharp focus on Dominic's face as he worked.
Cold sweat from the pain of his wound glistened on his forehead in the flashlight's beam.
A faint, crisp click broke the dead silence of the pawnshop.
The first dial slipped cleanly into the right position.
Dominic's fingers moved without any pause, shifting straight to the second dial.
Time crawled by, the air so thick it was hard to breathe.
The sound of gears catching kept coming through the darkness, one by one.
Dominic's abdominal wound had been seeping blood from the prolonged bending over.
A large dark red stain was spreading fast across his black tactical shirt.
Penelope watched that stain grow wider, her fingers curling tight at her side.
She had a sudden urge to just stop him and smash the damn box open.
"Dominic, if you can't hold on, stop right now."
She kept her voice low and sharp, though a trace of something close to panic slipped through.
Dominic ignored her completely, ear still pressed hard against the box.
"Three more. Almost done."
He said it in a muffled voice around the flashlight, fingers turning with unbroken steadiness.
When the last dial let out a clean click, Dominic's eyes snapped open.
He let out a long, heavy breath, the veins on his forehead standing out clearly.
"It's open."
He pressed the metal latch on the side of the box.
The lid of the brass box flew up under the spring's force.
Penelope immediately swung her flashlight beam directly onto it.
Inside was nothing like the paper documents or core data files she had expected.
A thick layer of black shock-absorbing foam lined the bottom.
Resting in the molded cutout at the center was a single sealed transparent test tube.
The tube was filled nearly to the top with a dark red, viscous liquid.
Penelope stared at that test tube, her expression going cold and tight.
"Whose blood is this?"