Page 3 of Her Immortal Protector

I dig into my jacket pocket, fishing out the crumpled napkin with hastily scrawled coordinates. The coffee stain hasn't obscured the numbers, thank god. I'd spent days staking out those coordinates, watching employees come and go at odd hours.

My mind drifts to the night I finally got my break. I'd sweet-talked my way past security, posing as a new lab tech working the graveyard shift. The guard barely glanced at my forged ID before waving me through.

Once inside, I'd slipped into an empty office and hacked into their system. Years of investigative work had honed my skills, and within minutes, I was in.

What I found I knew would be worth a story. Files upon files of environmental violations. My fingers fly to my throat, feeling for the small data chip hidden in my necklace. All the evidence is there, ready to blow this whole thing wide open. If I can just get out of here...

A distant shout snaps me back to the present. They're still searching, getting closer. I need to move.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. There's a service elevator at the end of this corridor. If I can reach it, I might have a chance.

Slipping out from behind the tanks, I creep forward, every sense on high alert. The weight of my discovery presses down on me. I'm not just running for my life now; I'm running to expose a truth that could change everything.

I freeze as a shout pierces the air.

"There she is!"

Adrenaline surges through my veins. I bolt down the corridor, my feet pounding against the concrete. The service elevator's just ahead, but I'll never make it before they catch up.

Think, Aria, think!

My eyes dart around, searching for anything I can use. A fire extinguisher catches my attention. I snatch it off the wall, spinning to face my pursuers. The nozzle hisses as I spray a thick cloud of white powder, obscuring their vision.

"Can't see shit!"

"Don't let her get away!"

I drop the extinguisher and dash toward a nearby junction. Left or right? My instincts scream left, but I know better. Always go against the grain.

I veer right, my shoes squealing on the slick floor. The corridor stretches before me, lined with unmarked doors. I need to buy time, create confusion.

A memory flashes – an old interview technique. Misdirection.

I grab the handle of the nearest door, yanking it open. The hinges screech, echoing down the hall. I slam it shut without entering, then sprint to the next door. Open, slam. Open, slam. A cacophony of banging doors fills the air.

"Check every room!"

Perfect. Let them waste time searching empty spaces.

I race on, my lungs burning. A stack of empty barrels looms ahead. With a grunt, I shove them over. They clatter across the floor, blocking the path behind me.

The pursuit slows, but doesn't stop. I need more.

A maintenance cart sits abandoned nearby. I grab it, wheeling it furiously down the hall. My eyes lock onto a T-junction ahead. As I reach it, I give the cart a hard shove to the left, sending it careening down the corridor.

I dart right, pressing myself against the wall. Heavy footsteps approach. I hold my breath, praying my gambit pays off.

"The cart! She went that way!"

The footsteps recede, following the false trail. I allow myself a small smile. Years of chasing leads and dodging corporate security are finally paying off.

But I can't relax yet. I push off from the wall, my legs protesting as I force them into a run once more. The service elevator can't be far now.

As I round another corner, my heart leaps. There it is – the battered metal doors of my escape route. I slam my palm against the call button, willing it to arrive faster.

"Come on, come on," I mutter, glancing over my shoulder.

The elevator dings. I practically dive inside, jabbing at the ground floor button. As the doors start to close, I hear shouts in the distance.

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