The shatter of reinforced glass echoed through the empty hallway, followed by the heavy, deliberate thud of combat boots. I pressed my back against the icy metal of the server rack, clutching my bleeding side. My name is Caleb Vance. I’m a forensic accountant in downtown Chicago, a guy who spends his life buried in spreadsheets, hunting down hidden offshore accounts. I don’t own a gun. I’ve never been in a fight. Yet, right now, a man with a suppressed Glock is methodically clearing the offices of my firm, and he’s looking for me.
“Caleb,” a voice called out, unnervingly calm and raspy. “You can’t hide in a glass building, buddy. Hand over the flash drive, and I’ll make it quick.”
He was getting closer. The encrypted flash drive burning a hole in my suit pocket contained the ledger of Julian Croft, a real estate mogul with deep ties to the cartel. I found a sixty-million-dollar discrepancy this morning. By noon, my boss was dead in his office, staged as a heart attack. Now, it was midnight, and I was trapped on the forty-second floor.
My breath hitched as a shadow fell across the frosted glass of the server room door. The doorknob rattled. It was locked, but that wouldn’t hold him for more than a second. I had two choices, and I had to make one right now before he blew the hinges off.
I looked to my left. The emergency fire escape hatch was bolted shut, but the heavy steel wrench left by the maintenance crew sat on a nearby cart. If I smashed the electronic lock, I could drop down into the maintenance shaft, though the noise would instantly give away my position.
I looked to my right. The mainframe’s primary cooling vent was wide open for repairs. It was a tight, pitch-black squeeze, leading straight into the building’s labyrinth of ventilation ducts. It would hide me, but if I got stuck, I’d be a sitting duck.
The handle violently twisted, and a silenced bullet shattered the locking mechanism.
I thought I was just doing my job, but digging into Croft’s accounts unleashed an absolute nightmare. Whoever this guy is, he’s not just a hired gun—he knows exactly how the building is wired. The rest of the story is below 👇
