Chapter 13 - The Sluice Gate
Beneath the asphalt, the storm tunnel was an echo chamber of dripping water and distant rumbles. Michael moved quietly along the narrow concrete walkway, his flashlight turned to a low red beam to avoid casting shadows. Behind him, two former military contractors followed with raised tactical shotguns.
Up ahead, near the massive iron pillars supporting Maria’s sidewalk easement, two men were furiously attaching magnetic blocks of thermite compound to the base of the steel beams.
""Freeze!"" Michael shouted, raising his weapon. ""Hands in the air! Back away from the charges!""
One of the men turned instantly, not with raised hands, but with a flare gun. He fired directly at Michael’s chest. The blazing phosphorus projectile ricocheted off Michael’s ballistic vest, exploding against the damp brick wall in a blinding shower of sparks and choking white smoke.
Gunfire ripped through the enclosed space, deafening and disorienting. The second saboteur lunged toward the thermite detonator, slamming his hand down on the switch.
A bright, sizzling hiss erupted from the steel pilings as thermite ignited, burning at four thousand degrees. The concrete beneath the pillars began to crack with explosive, popping sounds, superheated water turning to steam instantly.
Up on the surface, Maria felt the ground vibrate beneath her boots. A low, terrifying rumble shook the dry-cleaning shop, rattling the windows.
""The charges are lit!"" Julian yelled into his radio, his face pale. ""Michael, get out! The tunnel is collapsing!""
Static hissed through the radio, followed by Michael’s strained, coughing voice: “Julian... the manual override on the sluice is jammed from the outside... Vance welded the lock... you have to blow the emergency valve on the sidewalk... do it now!”
Julian ran out into the rainy street toward the heavy cast-iron valve box embedded beside Maria's cart. He threw himself onto his knees, pulling out a heavy wrench, frantically straining against the rusted iron wheel. It didn't budge. Decades of grime and Vance's sabotage had locked the wheel in place.
""It won't turn!"" Julian shouted in agony, his palms bleeding against the iron. ""It's seized! I can't open the floodgate!""
The rumble grew louder. A hairline crack snaked across the asphalt, opening beneath Maria’s food cart, steam venting through the split pavement.
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Maria stepped out into the rain. She looked at the stuck iron wheel, then looked at the heavy, solid-steel crowbar that Hector had used thirty years ago to adjust the cart's leveling jacks—the crowbar she had kept chained to the axle every single day.
""Julian,"" Maria said with terrifying calmness. ""Move aside.""
