Chapter 7 - The Shot in Room 317
The gunshot was deafening inside the metal-lined vault. Serena dropped beneath the desk as water hammered the shelves and loose papers spun through the air. Adrian collided with one of Victor’s men near the door.
Malcolm fought the other in the hallway, their bodies slamming into the old wall hard enough to crack plaster. Celeste screamed. Serena’s heart stopped. She looked up and saw Celeste on the floor. A dark stain spread across the gold gown near her upper arm.
“Celeste!” “I’m fine,” Celeste gasped, which meant she was conscious, not fine. Serena crawled toward her. Victor seized the laptop and portable drive from the desk. He moved with terrifying calm through the chaos, protecting the evidence instead of helping his men.
Adrian saw him. “Victor!” Victor fired again. The bullet struck a metal shelf inches from Adrian’s head. Adrian ducked, and Victor ran into the corridor. “Go!” Serena shouted. Adrian hesitated, looking from his wounded mother to his pregnant wife. “Go after him!”
Serena yelled. “Malcolm is here.” Adrian ran. Malcolm had subdued one gunman and taken his weapon. The second had fled after Victor. Malcolm staggered into the room with blood running from a cut above his eye. “We need pressure on that wound,” he said.
Serena tore a decorative strip from the hem of Celeste’s gown. Celeste gave a breathless, offended laugh. “That dress cost eight thousand dollars.” “You can sue me later.” Serena pressed the fabric against the wound. The bullet had passed through the soft tissue of Celeste’s upper arm.
There was blood, but not the pulsing flow Serena feared. Celeste clenched her teeth as Serena tied the makeshift bandage. Then Serena doubled over. The contraction was stronger than anything before it. Malcolm looked at his watch. “Three minutes.” “Stop timing me.”
“Someone has to.” The fire alarm continued to howl. Serena’s phone vibrated in her hand as service returned. Lena’s name appeared. Serena answered immediately. “Room 317, west wing, third floor,” she said. “Victor Kane has a hard drive and a laptop. He’s moving.”
“We know,” Lena replied. “Our team is clearing the west stairwell. Is anyone injured?” “Celeste was shot in the arm. Malcolm is hurt. I’m in labor.” There was half a second of silence. “Of course you are.” “That seems to be everyone’s response.”
“We have medics staged downstairs. Stay where you are.” Serena looked toward the door. “No.” “Serena.” “The drive contains everything. Victor said copies self-destruct. If he leaves with it, five years disappear.” “You are not chasing an armed man through a hotel while in active labor.”
“I didn’t say I was chasing him.” Serena looked at the wet papers scattered around room 317. Daniel had never built a secret with only one path. She crawled toward the desk and began searching drawers. “Serena, answer me.” “I’m here.” “What are you doing?”
“Thinking like my father.” In the second drawer, she found nothing but hotel stationery and dead pens. In the third, there was a paper floor plan of the old west wing. A red line had been drawn from room 317 to the basement maintenance tunnel.
At the end of the line was a handwritten note. IF HE RUNS, HE RUNS HOME. Serena stared at the sentence. “Lena, where is Meridian Response Group’s original office?” “Why?” “Just tell me.” Keys clicked on Lena’s end. “Old registered address was beneath the Grand Meridian.
Basement level two, before the hotel expansion. It was supposedly converted into storage.” Serena closed her eyes. Victor was not heading for an exit. He was heading for the place where his operation had begun. “What is in basement two now?” “Security control, archival storage, utility access.”
“And the building servers?” A pause. “Basement two.” Serena stood carefully. “Victor doesn’t want to escape yet. He wants to erase the server backups.” Lena’s tone changed. “I’m redirecting teams.” Celeste reached for Serena with her uninjured hand. “Sit down.” “I’m not going downstairs.”
“You are thinking about it.” “I’m thinking about getting you to a medic.” Celeste studied her and knew she was lying. “Your father used to make that exact face before doing something unreasonable.” Serena helped her stand. “He also left me the map.”
“That does not make it reasonable.” Two federal agents appeared in the corridor with weapons raised. Malcolm identified himself, and the agents lowered their guns. “FBI,” the first said. “We need to move you now.” Serena handed him the floor plan. “Victor Kane is heading to basement two.
Tell Agent Ortiz there is a hidden maintenance stair behind room 321.” The agent spoke into his radio. Then a message came through Serena’s phone. It was from Adrian. ONE OF HIS MEN HAS MAYA. Serena stopped moving. A second message appeared.
THEY TOOK HER FROM BALLROOM. HE WANTS YOU. The blood drained from Serena’s face. Celeste read the screen over her shoulder. “No.” Serena’s phone rang. Adrian. She answered. His breathing was ragged. “Serena, listen to me. I’m near the service elevator. Victor has Maya at basement two.
He says you bring the keys or—” “I already gave him the keys.” “He says the small key opens something else.” Serena looked at her empty hand. The key from the lipstick had been left on the desk. She turned. It was gone.
May you like
Celeste opened her palm. The tiny metal key lay there. “I picked it up when the shooting started,” she said. Serena closed her fingers around it. Adrian’s voice broke through the phone. “Do not come down here.”
Serena thought of Maya in her wedding dress, trapped below the hotel because of a war that had begun before either sister understood it. Then she thought of the red dots on her belly. “I’m not letting him take my sister too,” she said. And before anyone could stop her, Serena stepped into the elevator.
