Alyssa’s POV
“I don’t like this, Alyssa.” Isabella’s voice was tight as we stood outside the towering glass building in downtown Manhattan. The vault was inside, buried deep beneath layers of state-of-the-art security. I’d studied the schematics for hours, but nothing could prepare me for the sheer magnitude of what I was about to face.
“I don’t like it either,” I said, adjusting the slim black bag slung over my shoulder. It was packed with every tool I could need: a mini EMP device, a thermal cutter, and a compact tablet preloaded with hacking software Isabella had designed.
“Then why are we here?” she asked, her sharp green eyes narrowing. “This artifact? It’s not about Ethan. It’s about them testing you, seeing if you’ll break. You’re playing right into their hands.”
I exhaled, forcing calm into my voice. “They have Ethan, Isabella. What choice do I have?”
Her expression softened, but only slightly. “You have the choice to fight smart. This? This is reckless, and you know it.”
“Maybe it is,” I admitted, gripping the strap of my bag tightly. “But sitting on our hands while they threaten Ethan isn’t an option. They gave me the location, the deadline, and the task. This is the only lead we have, and I’m not wasting it.”
She muttered a curse under her breath, pulling her laptop from her oversized tote. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
We stepped inside, the cool, polished air of the lobby a sharp contrast to the tension vibrating through my body. Every step echoed, too loud in the pristine silence. Isabella hung back near a cluster of leather chairs, her fingers flying across her keyboard as she whispered into my earpiece.
“The vault is three levels down, secured with biometric locks, motion sensors, and pressure-sensitive flooring. You’ll have two minutes, maybe less, once you crack the initial code.”
“Got it,” I whispered, heading for the elevator. “Keep me posted.”
The ride down was interminable, the mirrored walls reflecting a version of myself I barely recognized: tense, determined, dangerous. The doors slid open, and I stepped into the stark corridor leading to the vault.
The first checkpoint was easy-a standard keypad lock. I entered the code Isabella had decrypted from the file they’d sent me. The light blinked green.
“Too easy,” I muttered.
“You’re not wrong,” Isabella said in my ear. “They’re expecting you.”
The second checkpoint wasn’t as forgiving: a retinal scanner paired with a handprint reader. I pulled out a small device Isabella had programmed, a mimic unit capable of fooling the scanner with preloaded biometric data.
“Are you sure this will work?” I whispered, pressing the device against the scanner.
“Positive,” she said, but her tone wasn’t as confident as I’d hoped.
The scanner beeped, the light flashing green again. I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
The final door loomed ahead, a massive steel barrier with intricate locking mechanisms.
“This is it,” I said, crouching to pull my tablet from the bag. I plugged it into the access panel, the screen lighting up with rows of code.
“You’ve got this,” Isabella said, her voice steadying me. “Just remember, once you’re inside, grab the artifact and get out. No hesitation.”
“Right,” I murmured, my fingers flying over the tablet.
The lock clicked open, and the door slid back with a hiss, revealing the vault’s interior: rows of glass cases, each holding priceless treasures.
“Which one is it?” I asked, stepping inside.
“Second row, third case on the left,” Isabella replied.
I moved quickly, my heart pounding as I reached the case. Inside was a small, ornate box, its surface inlaid with gold and onyx.
“This is it,” I said, slipping on a pair of gloves before carefully lifting the box from its pedestal.
But as I turned to leave, a red light began flashing, an alarm blaring through the room.
“What the hell, Isabella?” I hissed, clutching the box.
“It’s not me,” she snapped. “The system’s been overridden. Someone else is here.”
My blood ran cold as the sound of boots echoed down the corridor.
“Get out of there, Alyssa,” Isabella urged. “Now.”
I sprinted for the door, the box tucked securely under my arm. But as I stepped into the corridor, I was met by a group of armed men, their faces obscured by tactical masks.
“Drop the artifact,” one of them commanded, his voice distorted through a modulator.
“Not happening,” I said, backing up slowly.
The leader raised his weapon, and I saw the glint of a laser sight tracing up my chest.
“Alyssa,” Isabella’s voice was frantic in my ear. “You’ve got to move. Now.”
I ducked just as the first shot rang out, the bullet sparking against the metal wall behind me. My body moved on instinct, dodging and weaving as I ran back into the vault.
“Isabella, I need options!” I shouted, my voice echoing in the enclosed space.
“Hold on,” she said, her fingers flying over the keyboard. “There’s a service tunnel behind the vault. I’ll unlock it, but you’ve got to hold them off.”
The men poured into the room, their guns trained on me. I ducked behind a case, my mind racing.
“Give us the box,” the leader barked.
“Over my dead body,” I muttered, pulling the thermal cutter from my bag.
I activated it, the blade glowing red-hot as I slashed at the cases, creating a barrier of shattered glass and priceless artifacts.
“Alyssa, the tunnel’s open,” Isabella said.
I spotted the hatch in the corner of the room, but reaching it meant crossing open ground.
“Cover me,” I said, throwing a smoke grenade from my bag.
The room filled with thick, choking smoke, giving me just enough cover to sprint for the hatch.
I dove through, landing hard on the metal floor below. The hatch slammed shut behind me, the sound of gunfire muffled but still deafening.
“Isabella, where does this lead?” I asked, pushing myself to my feet.
“To the surface,” she said. “But it’s not over yet. They’ll follow you.”
No sooner had she spoken than I heard the clang of boots on the metal ladder behind me.
“They’re coming,” I muttered, gripping the box tightly.
“Then keep moving,” Isabella said.
I ran down the tunnel, my heart hammering in my chest. The air grew colder, the darkness pressing in around me.
Just as I reached the end, a figure stepped out of the shadows, blocking my path.
“Going somewhere?”
The voice was calm, almost amused. But the sight of his face sent a chill down my spine.
He wasn’t with the assassins. He was something else entirely.
The man smiled, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. “Hand over the box, Ms. Morgan. Or this gets very unpleasant.”