Chapter 41
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Miami, Florida
The knocking on his door became pounding. The sound was relentless now. “Sir, this is a mandatory evacuation. Open the door immediately.”
Flint moved quickly to the connecting door, opened it, and stepped into Lizzy’s room. The air smelled faintly of her shampoo and the cleaning supplies the hotel used. Drake was already there, armed, standing at the window, looking down at the evacuation.
“How convenient,” Drake said. “Gas leak right at the moment.”
“We’re leaving. Right now,” he said.
Lizzy nodded, grabbing the small bag they’d given her. No questions. No hesitation. She had learned to move fast when necessary.
Drake had already checked his gear. “Service elevator’s probably shut down for the emergency. Stairwells will be packed with guests and staff.”
“Which means we go a different way,” Flint said.
The pounding on doors continued throughout the floor. Staff moving room to room, forcing everyone out. The alarm was even more deafening now, the sound bouncing off the walls and making conversation difficult.
“Window?” Lizzy asked.
Drake shook his head. “We’re twelve floors up. Even if we had enough rope, they’d spot us rappelling down.”
Flint visualized the hotel layout. “Maintenance access. Every floor has service corridors for housekeeping and building systems.”
“Where?”
“Most likely it’s next to the ice machines. Hidden behind unmarked doors.”
They moved quickly to the door. Flint listened for a moment. The surface felt cool against his ear. He heard voices in the hallway as staff directed guests toward the stairwells.
Flint opened the door and stepped out, gesturing Lizzy to stay close behind. Drake came last, protecting the rear.
The hallway was chaos. Hotel guests emerging from rooms, staff in emergency vests herding people toward the exits, alarm bells echoing off the walls. The carpet was thick underfoot, muffling footsteps as they moved with the crowd.
They had joined the flow of people moving toward the stairwell, but at the last moment, Flint veered toward the ice machine alcove. Drake and Lizzy followed.
Behind the ice machine, Flint found an unmarked metal door. He tried the handle. Locked. The metal felt cold under his palm.
Drake pulled out a multi-tool and went to work on the lock mechanism while Flint kept a lookout. The scraping of metal on metal was barely audible over the alarm. A few seconds later, the door swung open.
“Service corridor,” Drake said with satisfaction as Flint gestured Lizzy through and followed behind after closing the door again.
The narrow passage was dimly lit, running parallel to the guest hallway. Pipes and electrical conduits lined the walls. The air smelled of industrial cleaning supplies and machine oil, and footsteps echoed in the confined space.
They moved quickly, heading toward the far end of the building where the service elevator should be.
“There,” Flint said, pointing to a service elevator at the end of the corridor.
Drake pressed the call button. Nothing. All elevators, including this one, had been shut down for the emergency.
“Stairs?” Lizzy asked.
Flint found the service door. Unlike the main stairwells, this one was not being used. No guests, no staff. Just concrete steps leading down into shadows.
They descended quickly. The alarm was muffled here, but still audible. Twelve floors down to street level. The only sound echoing in the stairwell were their footsteps.
At the eighth floor, Flint held up a hand. “Listen.”
The sound of boots on concrete. Multiple sets, moving up the stairs.
“Building security,” Flint said quietly. “Checking the service areas.”
They backed up to the landing and found another corridor entrance. Flint tried the door. Unlocked.
The eighth-floor service corridor was identical to the twelfth. Narrow, dimly lit, running the length of the building. But this one had something more useful. A laundry chute.
“That probably goes straight to the basement laundry facilities,” Drake said, looking at the opening.
“You first,” Flint said to Lizzy with a grand sweep of his arm.
She looked at the narrow chute, then back at the approaching footsteps. “How do I know it’s safe?”
Flint shrugged and gave her a soft push.
She climbed into the chute opening feet first and disappeared down the shaft. A few seconds later, they heard a muffled thump from below.
Drake went next, then Flint.
The laundry chute deposited them into a large canvas bin filled with dirty hotel linens. The fabric smelled of detergent and human sweat and other things Flint couldn’t immediately identify.
Lizzy had already climbed out of the bin. “Which way?”
Drake climbed out next and then Flint did the same.
The basement was a maze of mechanical rooms, storage areas, and service corridors. Emergency lighting cast everything in harsh shadows.
Flint oriented himself to the building layout. “Loading dock should be on the north side.”
They moved through the basement, past water heaters and electrical panels, following signs toward the service areas. The concrete floor was cold under their feet. The alarm was fainter here, but they could hear activity above. The evacuation was still in progress.
“There,” Drake said, pointing to a ramp leading up to a loading dock. They trudged up the ramp as unobtrusively as possible.
The loading dock area was abandoned except for a few delivery trucks due to the alarm. Sunlight streamed in through the open bay doors, momentarily blinding them after the dimness of the basement.
Beyond the trucks, Flint saw the hotel’s parking lot, where hundreds of guests were being organized into groups by emergency personnel.
“Now we just walk out like we belong out there with the rest of them,” Flint said.
They climbed into the back of an empty delivery truck and waited on the cold, hard metal floor. Five minutes later, the truck started up and drove away.
Flint’s satellite phone vibrated in his pocket. He looked at the screen. Jason Fisher again.
“Where are you? I just landed. My security team says the hotel was evacuated for a gas leak.”
Flint said, “Still on for one o’clock?”
“Absolutely. Private boat. Don’t be late.”
Flint ended the call and looked at Drake and Lizzy.
“Well,” Drake said. “That was interesting.”
Flint replied with a quick nod. “Whoever forced that evacuation knows we escaped. They’ll be looking for us.”
Through the truck’s rear window, they could see smoke rising from the hotel area. Not from a real gas leak, but from the chaos of the evacuation.
“So what now?” Lizzy asked.