Chapter 151
Jason moved silently through the service corridor, his flashlight beam sweeping across the walls and floor. Twenty years in private security had taught him to trust his instincts, and right now every nerve in his body screamed danger. When Alexander Pierce had ordered a full sweep of the building, Jason had chosen to check the basement himself.
“East corridor clear,” crackled a voice through his earpiece.
“Copy that,” Jason replied. “Moving to check the electrical room.”
The door to the electrical room was unlocked, the first red flag. Hotel policy required all maintenance rooms to be secured at all times. Jason drew his weapon before pushing the door open with his shoulder.
The room appeared empty at first glance. Rows of circuit breakers lined the walls. The constant hum of electricity filled the air. Jason moved his flashlight methodically across the space, checking every corner, every shadow.
Then he saw it.
Attached to the main circuit panel was a black device the size of a paperback book. A small screen displayed glowing red numbers: 15:42… 15:41… 15:40…
Jason’s throat went dry. He’d seen similar devices during his military days.
“Sir,” he said into his comm, voice tight. “I’ve found something in the electrical room. Southeast corner, basement level. It appears to be an explosive device. Timer shows fifteen minutes and counting.”
Alexander’s response was immediate. “Stay there. Bomb squad is on site. They’re coming to you now.”
Jason didn’t touch the device but moved closer to examine it. The timer continued its relentless countdown. 15:22… 15:21… 15:20…
He could hear footsteps approaching fast, the bomb squad, he hoped. But fifteen minutes wasn’t much time to disarm a device, especially if there were others hidden throughout the building.
The Grand Plaza Hotel housed over eight hundred guests tonight, not counting staff. Eight hundred lives now hanging in the balance.
Jason had never been a religious man, but in that moment, he found himself praying.
*****
Alexander Pierce stood at the edge of the ballroom, his face carefully blank despite the chaos erupting in his earpiece. Reports flooded in from his security team:
“Suspicious device found in the ventilation room.”
“Another one near the main support column in the west wing.”
“Device located in the kitchen, attached to a
gas
line,”
Six devices discovered so far. Six ho scattered throughout the building. All with the same countdown timer.
Alexander checked his watch. Fourt
minutes until detonation.
He caught Stefan Rodriguez’s eye across the room and gave a slight nod. Stefan had been right. The threat was real. Now they needed to move eight hundred people to safety without causing a deadly panic.
Alexander pressed a button on his phone, sending a pre–arranged signal to the hotel manager. Within seconds, the man appeared at
Alexander’s side.
“We have a confirmed threat,” Alexander said quietly. “Multiple explosive devices throughout the building. We need to begin emergency evacuation immediately.”
The manager’s face drained of color, but his voice remained steady. “Understood. We’ll use the fire alarm protocol. Security will direct guests to the appropriate exits.”
“No alarms,” Alexander countered. “The sound might trigger the devices. We need a quiet evacuation.”
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The manager nodded. “I’ll alert the staff. We’ll announce a power issue, ask guests to exit calmly.”
“Fourteen minutes,” Alexander reminded him. “Not a second more.”
As the manager moved away, Alexander touched his earpiece again. “Status on the bomb squad?”
“They’re examining the first device now, sir,” came Jason’s voice. “But there’s a problem. They say it’s sophisticated, booby–trapped to detonate if tampered with. They’re not sure they can disarm all of them in time.”
Alexander’s stomach dropped. “Understood. Continue the search. Find every device.”
He scanned the ballroom, locating Victoria at the head table. Camille stood nearby, surrounded by admirers after her speech. Neither woman knew the danger they were in.
Not yet.
Alexander moved through the crowd with purpose, nodding politely at those who tried to engage him but never stopping. When he reached Camille, he placed a hand gently on her elbow.
“Excuse us,” he said to the group around her. “I need to borrow Ms. Kane for a moment.”
Camille’s smile remained fixed, but her eyes questioned him as he guided her toward Victoria’s table.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered.
“Not here,” Alexander replied, his voice barely audible.
Victoria looked up as they approached, instantly alert to the tension in Alexander’s posture.
“We need to talk,” he said. “Now.”
They moved to a quiet corner of the ballroom, Alexander positioning himself to block others‘ view of their faces.
“We’ve found explosive devices throughout the building,” he said without preamble. “Six so far. Timers show less than fourteen minutes until detonation. Bomb squad is on site but doesn’t believe they can disarm them all in time.”
Victoria’s face remained composed, though her eyes widened slightly. Camille gasped, instinctively moving closer to Victoria as if to protect her.
“Rose,” Camille whispered, her voice tight with anger and fear.
Alexander nodded. “Most likely. We’re beginning evacuation procedures now. I need you both to leave immediately through the private exit. A car is waiting.”
Victoria straightened her spine, years of crisis management taking over. “How are you handling the evacuation?”
“Hotel staff will announce a power issue requiring the building to be emptied. Security will guide guests to the nearest exits.” Alexander checked his watch again. We have thirteen minutes.”
“Eight hundred people in thirteen minutes, Victoria said, calculating the odds. “It will be close.”
“Too close,” Camille murmured, scanning the crowded room. People laughing, drinking, completely unaware of the danger ticking beneath their feet.
The hotel manager had reached the stage now. He tapped the microphone, gaining everyone’s attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for the interruption. We’ve been informed of an electrical issue that requires us to temporarily vacate the building. Please proceed calmly to the nearest exit, where our staff will direct you. This is only a precaution, but we do need to move quickly.”
Murmurs of confusion rippled through the crowd. Some guests stood immediately, while others lingered, finishing drinks or
conversations.
“They’re not moving fast enough,” Camille said, tension building in her chest.
“They will,” Alexander assured her. “Now please, both of you, head to the private exit. I’ve already arranged for Victoria’s medical team to
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meet you at the safe house.”
Victoria nodded. “Come, Camille. There’s nothing more we can do here.”
But Camille didn’t move. Her eyes remained fixed on the ballroom, where elderly guests were struggling to rise from their seats, where waitstaff looked confused about whether to help or evacuate themselves, where mothers were calling for children who had wandered to the dessert table.
“Camille, Alexander said more urgently. “We need to go. Now.”
She could feel the weight of Victoria’s hand on her arm, trying to pull her toward safety. But a deeper instinct held her in place.
“I can help,” she said. “I can make them move faster.”
“That’s security’s job,” Alexander insisted. “Your job is to stay alive.”
Through the growing chaos, Camille spotted her parents near the far exit, helping an elderly couple navigate the crowd. She saw donors who had contributed millions to her foundation, staff who had worked tirelessly to make this night possible, children who had no idea of the danger they were in.
All these people had come tonight because of her. Because of the Phoenix Foundation. Because they believed in her vision of helping others.
How could she run to safety while they remained at risk?
The timer in her mind continued its countdown. Twelve minutes. Maybe less.
“Alexander.” Camille’s voice had changed, taking on the steel she had learned from Victoria. “Get Victoria out. Now. I’ll be right behind you.”
“We go together or not at all,” Victoria said firmly.
“No.” Camille met Victoria’s gaze directly. “You’re ill. You need to leave immediately. I’ll help with the evacuation and follow.”
Alexander stepped between them. “Both of you need to leave. That’s non–negotiable.”
But Camille had already made her decision. She turned toward the stage, toward the microphone that could reach every corner of the ballroom.
“I can make them move faster,” she said over her shoulder. “I can save more people.”
Alexander grabbed her arm. “Camille, listen to me. Rose did this. She set these bombs. She’s targeting you specifically.”
“I know.” Camille’s eyes flashed with determination. “That’s exactly why I can’t run. She wants me to be afraid. To panic. I won’t give her that satisfaction.”
Victoria’s voice cut through the tension between them. “Alexander, get the car ready. We’ll be there in two minutes.”
Alexander hesitated, torn between his duty to protect both women and the knowledge that Victoria’s authority still outranked his in Camille’s mind.
“Two minutes,” he repeated, then moved toward the private exit to prepare their escape.
Once he was gone, Victoria turned to Camille. “You have one minute to help, then we leave. Together. Understood?”
Camille nodded, already moving toward the stage. The hotel manager looked relieved as she took the microphone from him.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” she began, her voice steady and clear. “This is Camille Kane. I need your attention.”
The crowd quieted, all eyes turning toward her.
“We need to evacuate this building immediately. This is not a drill. Please move quickly to the nearest exit. Parents, carry your children. If you see someone struggling, help them. Leave all belongings behind.”
The urgency in her voice cut through the confusion. People began moving more purposefully toward the exits, staff stepped up to assist elderly guests, the crowd’s pace visibly accelerated.
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Victoria appeared at the edge of the stage. “Time’s up,” she said. “We need to go.”
Camille looked out across the ballroom, still half–full despite the increased pace of evacuation. The bitter knowledge that not everyone would make it out in time twisted in her stomach.
“Camille,” Victoria’s voice grew sharper. “Now.”
From somewhere in the building, a muffled boom sounded–the first device detonating early. Screams erupted as the lights flickered, panic threatening to overtake the ordered evacuation.
Camille grabbed the microphone again. “Stay calm!” she ordered. “Continue moving toward the exits in an orderly fashion.”
Her voice seemed to steady the crowd, but now people were pushing, the evacuation becoming more frantic.
Victoria had reached the stage steps, her face pale but determined. “The car is waiting. Alexander says we have less than ten minutes.”
Camille looked at the frightened faces below her, then at Victoria, the woman who had saved her life, who had given her a second chance, who was now dying and still thinking of others first.
“You go,” Camille said. “I’ll be right behind you. I promise.”
Victoria’s expression hardened. “I won’t leave you here.”
“You have to.” Camille held Victoria’s gaze steadily. “The foundation needs at least one of us to survive. And you need medical attention.”
Another small explosion sounded from somewhere deeper in the building. More screams. More panic.
“Go,” Camille urged. “Please. Let me do this. Let me help these people.”
Victoria stood frozen for a moment, torn between her instinct to protect Camille and the logic of her argument. Finally, she nodded.
“Two minutes,” she said. “Then you follow. Swear it.”
“I swear,” Camille replied, though they both knew it might be a promise she couldn’t keep.
Victoria moved toward the private exit, where Alexander waited. As she disappeared from view, Camille turned back to the crowd.
Nine minutes left. Hundreds still inside. Including her.
But she wouldn’t leave. Not yet. Not while she could still help.
Rose had designed this attack to destroy everything Camille had built. To kill her, yes, but also to shatter the foundation that bore her name. To turn a night of triumph into one of tragedy.
Camille wouldn’t let that happen. Even if it meant risking everything.
W
“Keep moving!” she called into the microphone. “Security personnel, please assist with the elderly guests. Everyone else, please allow children and those needing assistance to exit first.”
From the corner of her eye, urgently for her to come.
, Camille saw Alexander
reappear at the private exit, his face taut with frustration and fear. He gestured
Camille shook her head. Not yet. Not until she had done everything possible to save these people who had trusted her enough to come tonight.
Not until she had proven, once and for all, that Rose’s attempts to destroy her had failed.
Eight minutes remained on the countdown. Eight minutes to define who she truly was.
And Camille Kane would not run.
