“It sounds like someone left a TV on,” the president said.
“It’s probably a faulty wire.” Cruzer sighed. “Unfortunately, that happens more and more these days.”
The static gained volume. Then tiny streams of water appeared. They flowed around the curve in the corridor and quickly saturated our shoes.
“The good news is that it’s not faulty wiring.” Graham stared at the gurgling water. “The bad news is that you’ve sprung a leak.”
“Where’s it coming from?” Beverly asked.
“Probably our water tank.” Cruzer frowned. “I should call maintenance.”
“Later,” the president said. “Let’s see the gold first.”
Cruzer’s neatly polished shoes splashed in the filmy water as he led us farther down the corridor. “Here we are,” he said, stopping in front of a room marked, 3A. “When the door opens, an overhead light switches on. The effect, especially for first-timers, can be blinding. So, you may want to shield your eyes.”
Water began to flow at a faster rate, pushing at my boots with disturbing force.
“Does anyone else think this is starting to look like more than just a busted pipe?” I asked.
Graham nodded. “We should go.”
Cruzer licked his lips. “Fine by me. We can—”
“Maintenance can wait.” President Walters’ eyes narrowed. “Open the compartment.”
“Sorry, sir.” Beverly grabbed the president’s arm and dragged him down the corridor. “But they’re right.”
Cruzer and the two officers pushed past us and raced to the biometrics mechanism. Lifting Milt’s corpse, they positioned his hand on the handprint scanner and pointed his eyes toward the lenses. A soft whizzing noise sounded out. Then a button above the vault door glowed bright red.
“Officer Schultz,” Cruzer said. “His hand is off-center.”
The female officer scowled as she repositioned Milt’s hardening fingers. Again, the button glowed a bright red.
The male officer needed no prodding. Grabbing Milt’s eyelids, he struggled to open them a little wider. But again, the button flashed red and the door stayed shut.
The water flowed faster. Before long, it covered the entire floor and began to rise.
“What’s the problem?” Beverly asked.
Cruzer exhaled. “The water must’ve shorted out our systems.”
“Don’t be too sure about that.” Kneeling down, I studied the flowing water. “What can you tell me about the original construction?”
“What do you mean?”
“Have you seen the plans? Was this place modeled after some other depository?”
“No, to your first question. As for the second one, yes, it was modeled after the Bank of France.”
I frowned. “Then this isn’t a leak.”
“Of course it’s a leak,” Donovan snapped. “What else would it be?”
“A flood trap.” I exhaled. “If we don’t get out of here soon, we’re not getting out at all.”
Chapter 51
“A flood trap?” Cruzer shook his head. “Impossible. I would’ve known about it.”
“Yeah?” Graham arched a skeptical eyebrow. “Let me ask you something. Did Milt like to keep secrets?”
The color drained out of Cruzer’s face.
“How did we set it off?” the president asked. “Maybe we can reverse it somehow.”
“Most likely, it started the moment we tried to use the biometrics system,” I replied. “The scanner must not have recognized Milt’s corpse. Instead, it flagged him as an intruder, opened the door, and triggered the trap.”
“Oh, please.” Donovan glared at me. “What do you know anyway?”
“He knows plenty,” Graham retorted. “If we need someone to give out a phony award, we’ll call you. Otherwise, shut up and let the experts do their thing.”
President Walters sloshed toward the vault door. Lifting a fist, he pounded on the metal. “Help!”
“Don’t waste your energy,” Cruzer said. “That door is soundproof.”
“Do we have access to a phone?” Beverly asked.
He shook his head.
“This is your fault.” President Walters grabbed Cruzer’s shirt and shook him hard. “We’re going to die because of you.”
Cruzer didn’t fight back, not even when the president started punching him.
Grabbing the president, I slammed him against a wall.
“Get your hands off him,” Donovan shouted.
I stared into the president’s eyes. “Calm down.”
The president clenched and unclenched his jaw. Then he nodded. “I’m okay.”
As I released him, Beverly slid in front of Cruzer. “Think hard. Is there another way out of here?”
Cruzer shook his head.
“What did Milt do if something went haywire?”
“I don’t know. He never told me.”
“Well, you’re useless.” Graham glanced at me. “Got any ideas?”
I sensed water inching its way up my boots. Where was it coming from? Could we block it? “Maybe,” I replied.
I hustled down the corridor. It was shaped like a horseshoe, curving around before straightening out again.
At the toe portion, water bubbled from multiple gaps in the wall. The gaps were long, thin, and stacked on top of each other. Taken as a whole, it looked like a waterfall display at one of those fancy Manhattan eateries.
I inserted my fingers into a gap and tried to plug the water. But it merely squirted out the sides. So, I pulled off my shirt and pressed it against the wall with my forearm. The water slowed, but pressure began to build-up. A few seconds later, it forced my forearm away and water splashed into the corridor.
I donned my cold, wet shirt. Then I hustled to the far end of the corridor. It was an exact duplicate of the other side, sans vault door and biometrics mechanism. In their place was a solid metal door with no keyhole. It was labeled Stairwell to Vault B. I tried it.
It was locked.
Turning around, I retraced my steps, testing door latches along the way. They were firmly locked in place. Outside 3A, I paused for a moment. The compartment door looked solid and fit perfectly with the frame.
“Cruzer,” I shouted.
He spun in my direction.
“Open this door.”
“Why?”
“Just do it,” Beverly said.
“My code will work for—” Officer Schultz gave her watch a quick look. “—two more minutes.”
“Mine is good for another eight,” the male officer added.
Cruzer and his two subordinates hurried to 3A. “Start entering your codes on my count,” Officer Cruzer called out. “Ready. Set. Go.”
The water level lifted higher as the officers punched their codes into the keypads. It rose above my boots and the first drops of icy liquid struck my socks.
Cruzer licked his lips. “Okay, that should do it. Now—”
Red lights flashed above all three keypads.
“It’s no good.” Cruzer shook his head. “The trap must’ve shut down access to the compartments.”
“Do it again,” I said.
“What’s the point?”
“The codes have to be input simultaneously, right? Maybe your timing was off.”
Cruzer whirled back to his keypad. “On my mark. Ready. Set. Go.”
As the officers punched their codes in for a second time, Donovan walked around the horseshoe corner. He studied the leaking walls for a moment. “It won’t work, you know.”
I glanced at him. “What?”
“Gold bars won’t seal that leak. There’s too many cracks and too much pressure.”
“Good thing I’m not trying to seal the leak then, huh?”
His forehead knotted.
The water came faster and faster. Within seconds, it rose to my knees. Then to my thighs.
“Okay.” Cruzer exhaled. “Everyone cross your fingers.”