Chapter 4 - The Ascent
The kitchen was dark, lit only by the red emergency strips. Ruby threw open the pantry door, tearing away the wooden paneling that concealed the old cast-iron dumbwaiter shaft. Inside, the metal cables groaned, coated in decades of dust and grease.
She climbed inside the cramped wooden box, pulled the heavy iron safety gate shut, and hauled on the manual hoist rope with all her strength. Her muscles screamed in protest, burning from exhaustion and lack of sleep, but adrenaline drove her upward.
Clank. Squeak. Clank.
The box shuddered upward, stopping with a dull thud at the second-floor landing. Ruby shoved the rusted metal gate open and tumbled out onto the plush carpet of the east wing hallway.
Downstairs, the muffled concussions of flash-bang grenades echoed through the marble halls, followed by the sharp, rhythmic crack of return fire from Frank and Dante.
Ruby sprinted down the corridor and threw open the door to Leo’s bedroom.
The boy was sitting straight up in bed, clutching his knees to his chest, trembling in the red emergency light.
"Ruby?" he whispered, his voice cracking. "What's that noise?"
"Hey, buddy," Ruby said, rushing over and sweeping him up into her arms, ignoring the ache in her back. "We're going to play a game. We're going on a very fast elevator ride. I need you to hold onto my neck as tight as you can, okay?"
Leo nodded, burying his face in her shoulder.
Ruby hurried back to the dumbwaiter shaft, squeezed inside with the boy clutched tightly against her chest, and pulled the release lever. The gravity-assisted drop was terrifyingly fast, the metal box rattling violently along the tracks as they descended back toward the basement service tunnels.
When the box slammed to a halt in the sub-level utility corridor, Ruby kicked the lower panel open, stepping out onto the concrete floor just as heavy boots echoed down the concrete steps.
A man in tactical gear rounded the corner, his rifle raised.
Ruby froze.
Before the mercenary could squeeze the trigger, a heavy wrench came flying out of the shadows, striking the man square in the temple with a sickening crunch. He collapsed instantly.
From the gloom behind the boiler pipes stepped Dante Moretti, his pistol smoking, his coat torn at the shoulder.
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He didn't waste a breath. He scooped Leo out of Ruby’s arms, holding his son against his chest with fierce, desperate protectiveness, while taking Ruby's hand with his free grip.
"This way," Dante commanded. "The escape tunnel leads to the shoreline. Frank has the boat waiting."
