Chapter 4 - The Blackout Corridor
Darkness fell over the elevator carriage as the amber diode flickered and died. Nora felt Roman’s heavy hand clamp around her elbow in the pitch-black space, pulling her behind his broad frame. The mechanical hum of the elevator motors ceased completely, leaving only the sound of Roman’s labored breathing and the distant drip of hydraulic fluid outside the shaft.
“Marco. Manual release,” Roman whispered, his tone lethal and controlled.
A click of metal against metal echoed as Marco found the ceiling hatch latch. “Cables above us are cut, Boss. Someone dropped the counterweight on the auxiliary power unit. We’re sitting forty feet above the underground drainage tunnels.”
“Open the trap,” Roman ordered.
Nora felt around the floor of the car until her hand brushed the leather strap of her emergency medical kit. “You can’t climb an access ladder with a torn abdominal wall. The suture tension will rip through the muscle fascia.”
“I climb or I rot in this box,” Roman snapped softly. “Petrov wants me alive long enough to transfer the shipping port deeds. If he finds us stuck here, he’ll pump carbon monoxide down the shaft.”
Marco kicked the hatch open, letting in a draft of cold, damp air carrying the stench of damp stone and diesel fuel. He hauled himself up first, scanning the shadowy concrete shaft with a pocket tactical beam. “Clear. Tunnel ledge is two feet below the carriage floor. We can drop down to the aqueduct access.”
Roman pushed Nora toward the opening above before she could object. “Up. Don't look down.”
She scrambled through the hatch, scraping her knees against the rough iron edges. Marco caught her wrists, pulling her onto the carriage roof. Below them yawned a dizzying drop into black nothingness. A second later, Roman hoisted himself up through pure sheer force of will, his knuckles white, a low hiss escaping his lips as the sheer strain tore his stitched skin further.
When his boots hit the roof, he swayed. Nora grabbed his belt, bracing her shoulder against his side until his balance stabilized. “Look at me,” she hissed, staring into his pale face. “Focus your vision. Shock is setting in.”
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“I’m fine,” he growled, though his pulse thudded erratic against her hands.
Before they could step toward the tunnel ledge, a red laser point drifted across Nora’s blue scrub top, centering directly over her heart from the drainage walkway above.
