Chapter 9 - The Night Harrison Tower Went Dark
Agent Brooks shoved Emily behind a concrete column.
“Down!”
Another shot shattered a window high above the platform.
Ava screamed.
Richard’s security returned fire from the entrance.
The old train station filled with echoes, dust, and terror.
Emily crouched beside Ava, heart pounding so hard she could barely hear.
“Are you hit?” she whispered.
Ava shook her head, crying silently.
Richard crawled toward them.
“We need to move.”
Agent Brooks shouted, “Service corridor! Now!”
They ran bent low through a side hallway as bullets struck tile behind them.
Emily clutched her bag with one hand and Ava with the other.
The corridor led to a rusted emergency door.
Brooks kicked it open.
Cold rain slapped Emily’s face.
Two FBI SUVs waited in the alley, engines running.
They piled inside.
As the vehicle sped away, Emily looked back.
In the mouth of the alley, a man stood under a black umbrella.
Arthur Bell.
Watching.
Smiling.
Then he disappeared into the rain.
Inside the SUV, Agent Brooks handed Richard a satellite phone.
“Use this.”
Richard dialed his ex-wife first.
Emily tried not to listen.
But she heard enough.
“Caroline, I need the hospital photos from Ethan’s birth… Yes, right now… No, I don’t have time to explain… Please.”
His voice cracked on the last word.
Please.
Emily looked out the window.
The city blurred by.
Her phone remained useless.
No signal.
Ava leaned against her shoulder, shaking.
“I’m sorry,” Ava whispered again.
Emily stared ahead.
“Not now.”
“I should have told you Linda asked for your logs.”
“Yes.”
Ava flinched.
Emily closed her eyes.
“I’m angry. But you came tonight. You gave me the drive. You bled for it.”
Ava began to sob.
Emily reached for her hand.
“That means something.”
Richard’s satellite phone beeped.
He opened an incoming file.
Photos.
A hospital room.
A younger Richard holding a newborn wrapped in a blue blanket.
A clock on the wall behind him.
April 18.
9:42 a.m.
Another photo.
Richard beside Caroline.
Another with a nurse.
Another showing a visitor badge.
It was proof.
Maybe enough.
Richard forwarded them to Margaret.
The message failed.
He tried again.
Failed.
Agent Brooks checked the device.
“Signal disruption across downtown.”
Emily’s stomach dropped.
“He’s blocking communications?”
“Or someone is,” Brooks said.
Richard cursed.
“The board meeting is remote. If communications are disrupted, Arthur can control who gets in.”
Ava sat up.
“Where is the board portal hosted?”
Richard looked at her.
“Harrison Tower backup servers. Main cloud access routes through our internal authentication system.”
Emily understood.
“Harrison Tower.”
Brooks said, “We’re going there?”
Richard nodded.
“If we can get into the executive data center, we can push the evidence directly into the meeting record.”
Emily looked at him.
“Arthur will expect that.”
“Yes.”
“And we’re still going.”
“Yes.”
Emily almost laughed.
“You finally grew a spine at the worst possible time.”
Richard glanced at her.
“Your father said something similar once.”
The words hit quietly.
Not as a weapon.
As memory.
Harrison Tower rose from downtown like a blade of glass.
But when they arrived, the building was dark.
Every floor.
Every light.
Dead.
Only emergency red strobes pulsed behind the lobby windows.
Employees crowded outside in the rain, confused and frightened.
Agent Brooks spoke to police at the barricade.
Emily spotted Linda Carver near the side entrance.
Pearls.
Navy dress.
Phone to her ear.
Calm.
Too calm.
“There,” Emily said.
Linda saw them at the same moment.
She turned and ran.
Emily moved before thinking.
“Emily!” Richard shouted.
She chased Linda through the crowd, slipping on wet pavement.
Linda rounded the corner into the service driveway.
Emily followed.
The driveway descended into the underground garage.
Darkness swallowed them.
Emily slowed.
“Linda!”
Her voice echoed.
A door slammed somewhere below.
Emily pulled out her phone flashlight.
Rows of cars.
Concrete pillars.
Emergency lights.
Then Linda’s voice came from the shadows.
“You should have gone home.”
Emily turned.
Linda stood near an elevator bank, holding something small in her hand.
A keycard.
“You forged Richard’s signature,” Emily said.
Linda’s face twisted.
“I protected this company.”
“You protected Arthur.”
“I protected all of you from what happens when truth gets out.”
Emily stepped closer.
“You mean accountability.”
Linda laughed bitterly.
“You think shareholders care about accountability? They care about stock price. Jobs. Stability. People like you burn down buildings and call it justice.”
“My father died.”
Linda’s expression flickered.
“For nothing,” she said softly. “And now you’re doing the same.”
Emily lunged.
Linda swiped the keycard at the elevator.
Doors opened.
Emily grabbed her wrist.
They struggled.
The keycard fell.
Emily kicked it away.
Linda slapped her.
Pain exploded across Emily’s cheek.
Then Ava appeared behind Linda and smashed her purse into Linda’s shoulder.
Linda fell against the wall.
Ava grabbed the keycard.
“Run!”
They sprinted into the elevator.
Emily hit the top executive floor.
The doors closed as Linda screamed from the garage.
The elevator rose through darkness.
Then stopped suddenly on the thirty-eighth floor.
The lights flickered.
A voice came from the speaker.
May you like
Arthur Bell.
“Emily Parker,” he said warmly. “You are remarkably difficult to kill.”
