Chapter 3 - The Crossfire in the Archives
Before Nathan could look, the darkness above the towering steel shelving units erupted with motion. Heavy boots slammed onto the concrete floor behind them as four armed mercenaries dropped from the overhead catwalks, cutting off their retreat toward the elevator.
"Move!" Nathan shouted, shoving Maggie behind a heavy bulkhead of steel shelving just as a volley of suppressed gunfire chewed through the air, sending a shower of concrete dust and paper fragments raining down upon them.
The archival records exploded in a flurry of white confetti as bullets tore through decades of shipping history. Nathan returned fire with controlled, tactical precision, catching the lead assailant in the shoulder and dropping him instantly. But they were pinned, outnumbered, and outmaneuvered in a labyrinth of paper and steel.
"The key!" Maggie gasped, pulling the brass 9-1-7 key from her pocket amidst the deafening pop of gunfire. "The manual override for the archive halon fire-suppression system is tied to Pier Nine's legacy grid! If we flood this sector with inert gas, it will drop the oxygen levels instantly!"
Nathan didn't hesitate. He grabbed her hand, dodging a burst of automatic fire that shattered a row of filing cabinets, and scrambled toward the mechanical control panel embedded in the back wall.
"Cover me for three seconds!" Nathan ordered.
Maggie didn't blink. Despite her bleeding arm, she snatched the dropped sidearm of the fallen mercenary from the floor, braced her good arm against the steel frame, and fired two rapid, deafening shots down the aisle. The suppressive fire from their attackers instantly faltered as bullets ricocheted off the concrete inches from their boots.
Nathan slammed the brass key into the mechanical override slot and wrenched it ninety degrees to the right, punching the emergency activation sequence into the keypad.
WARNING: HALON SUPPRESSION ENGAGED. OXYGEN EVACUATION IN 5... 4...
"Hold your breath!" Nathan yelled, pulling Maggie down behind the heavy iron housing unit as a dense, freezing white fog began to hiss violently from the ceiling vents, instantly displacing the oxygen in the room.
Across the aisle, the sound of coughing echoed, followed by heavy thuds as the mercenaries dropped their weapons, disoriented, suffocating, and collapsing onto the concrete floor one by one.
Arthur Sterling, gasping for air, stumbled backward out of his chair, clawing at his collar. "You... you insane..." he choked out before his legs buckled, pitching forward into unconsciousness beside the water-stained ledger.
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Nathan waited until the digital countdown hit zero and the automated emergency ventilation systems kicked in, sucking out the dense chemical fog with a deafening roar of industrial fans.
The archive level was silent once more.
