Chapter 7 - THE OVERRIDE
Together, they threw their weight against the heavy iron lever.
The metal groaned, resisting the accumulated ice of a decade of neglect, but with a sharp, echoing crack, the rusted gears engaged. Outside, across the frozen expanse of the Chicago flats, the high-pitched shriek of the east-wing pressure relief system died down, replaced by a deep, steady hum as the secondary loops safely vented into the relief towers.
Inside the shanty, the red emergency lights flickered and steadied into a calm, solid green.
Daniel let out a long breath, wiping his brow with the back of his sleeve. He looked over at Vivian, who was leaning against the table, completely exhausted, her chest heaving as adrenaline finally gave way to shivering exhaustion.
He reached out and gently pulled his heavy wool coat from a wall hook, stepping forward and draping it over her shoulders.
Vivian clutched the heavy wool around herself, the residual warmth of his body radiating against her frozen skin. She looked up at him, her eyes shining in the dim flashlight beam.
"I’m sorry," she whispered. "For everything."
"Don't be," Daniel said softly, picking up the photograph of Rachel and slipping it safely back into his leather briefcase alongside the vellum schematics. "You came out here into a blizzard to fix it. That counts for a lot in this family."
He picked up the brass key and pressed it gently into Vivian’s palm, folding her cold fingers over it.
"What is this for?" she asked, looking down at her hand.
"It’s for the vault back at headquarters," Daniel said. "The one your father locked seventeen years ago. There’s something in there with your name on it, too. I think it’s time we both went back and opened it together."
May you like
Vivian looked at the key, then nodded.
"Let’s go home," she said.
