Chapter 13 - The Echo of the Camera
The red emergency lights pulsed faster.
"PURGE PROTOCOL: THIRTY SECONDS."
Sarah’s mind worked with a desperate, blinding speed. She looked at Arthur’s wrist. Wrapped around his left arm was a sleek black band featuring a tiny, green flashing LED light—the dead-man's biometric sensor.
She didn't lower her gun. Instead, she adjusted her grip, taking a half-step to the left to align her angle.
"You're right about one thing, Arthur," Sarah said, her voice dropping into a low, terrifyingly calm register. "People do love a good story."
Before Arthur could react, Sarah shifted her aim six inches to the right and fired.
BANG.
The non-suppressed 9mm report was deafening in the enclosed concrete space. The bullet shattered the primary hydraulic control valve mounted directly behind Arthur's head.
A high-pressure jet of freezing hydraulic fluid burst from the broken line, spraying directly into Arthur's face and eyes.
Arthur shrieked in pain, his hands flying to his blinded, burning eyes, losing his balance and crashing hard onto the concrete floor. The sudden impact jammed his left wrist against the heavy steel leg of the operating table, smashing the plastic casing of the biometric dead-man's switch into pieces.
The green light turned red, but the gas valves didn't open—the circuit had been crushed before the signal could transmit.
Sarah lunged forward. She slammed her boot down on Arthur’s right hand, pinning it to the floor, while her left hand reached into her tactical belt, pulling a pair of steel handcuffs and snapping them around his right wrist, securing him to the base of the heavy operating table.
"PURGE PROTOCOL: TEN SECONDS."
Sarah didn't try to stop the server wipe. She ran to her mother’s gurney, pulling the IV line from Eleanor's arm, unbuckling the nylon straps with frantic, tearing motions.
"Mom! Mom, wake up!" Sarah begged, scooping Eleanor’s frail body into her arms.
Eleanor’s eyes opened sliver-wide, glassy and unfocused, but as she looked into Sarah’s face, a faint spark of recognition flared in the pale blue depths.
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"Sarah...?" Eleanor croaked, her voice paper-thin. "Is that... is that you, baby?"
"I've got you, Mom," Sarah wept, pulling her mother tight against her chest. "I've got you."
