Chapter 5 - The Intruder in the Hallway
My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. I yanked the titanium flash drive out of the server rack just as the heavy basement door at the top of the stairs clicked open.
"I know someone's down there," a low, gravelly voice called out. It wasn't Ryan's voice, and it wasn't a police officer. It sounded rough, professional, and entirely menacing. "Hand over the drive, and you walk out of here in one piece."
I didn't answer. I ducked behind the heavy oak workbench in the corner of the basement, holding my breath.
Heavy boots descended the wooden stairs, creaking loudly in the quiet basement. The beam of a high-intensity tactical flashlight swept across the concrete floor, missing my hiding spot by inches.
Think, I told myself. Think like an architect's wife who knows every inch of this house.
Behind the workbench was a narrow utility access panel leading to the crawlspace under the back porch—the exact same structural escape route I had studied on our home blueprints.
The footsteps drew closer. The light beam swept across the floorboards right toward my shoes.
Without hesitating, I shoved the access panel open, slipped my body into the dark, dusty crawlspace, and pulled the wooden door shut just as a hand grabbed blindly at the space I had occupied a second before.
"Damn it!" the intruder cursed overhead, kicking the workbench in frustration. "She’s got the drive!"
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I crawled on my hands and knees through the damp earth and concrete footings, ignoring the cobwebs and sharp stones biting into my palms. Ten feet ahead, the faint amber glow of a basement window indicated the exit leading to the side garden.
I pushed upward against the rusted metal latch of the window pop-out. It gave way with a sharp pop, and I tumbled out onto the cool grass of the backyard, gasping for fresh air.
