The Halon Trap

Julian left Lily with Elena in the office. "Lock the door. Do not open it for anyone but me."

"Where are you going?" Elena asked, picking up a heavy book as a makeshift weapon.

"To the security room. I need footage of Sterling entering the vault last night."

Julian moved through the back corridors of the auction house. The building was waking up. Caterers were setting up champagne towers. Security guards were testing metal detectors.

He slipped into the server room on the mezzanine level. It was cool and hummed with the sound of hard drives. He sat at the console and began to override the erased logs. It was messy work, but Miller had taught him a few tricks.

There. 11:45 PM. A figure entering the vault. Sterling.

"Got you," Julian whispered.

The door behind him clicked.

Julian spun around. Sterling stood there, holding a taser.

"You really are a nuisance, Detective," Sterling said smoothly. "I thought the single father routine would make you distracted. Weak."

"It makes me tired," Julian said, standing up. "Not stupid. You killed Arthur."

"Arthur was going to ruin everything. He had this ridiculous notion of 'integrity.' He wanted to report the recutting. Do you know how much a diamond loses in value when you chop it up? I saved it. I gave it a new life."

"You hid it in a decanter to steal it from your own client."

"The client is dead. I’m just... reallocating assets."

Sterling fired the taser.

Julian dodged, but the prongs caught his jacket. The shock surged through him, locking his muscles. He fell to his knees, gasping.

Sterling stepped over him and punched a code into the wall panel. A red light began to flash.

"This room is equipped with a Halon fire suppression system," Sterling said, stepping back into the hall. "It sucks the oxygen out of the air in thirty seconds to protect the servers. Very efficient. Very quiet."

"Sterling!" Julian gritted out, trying to rip the prongs free.

"Enjoy the nap, Detective."

The door slammed shut. The magnetic locks engaged with a heavy *thunk*.

Then came the hiss.

White gas began to pour from the ceiling vents.

Julian scrambled to his feet, his limbs feeling like lead. He ripped the taser probes from his chest. He ran to the door. Locked. Reinforced steel.

He looked at the vents. The gas was filling the room. Halon displaced oxygen. He wouldn't choke; he would just fall asleep and never wake up.

His vision blurred. He thought of Lily.

She was upstairs. Alone with Elena. If he died here, she went into the system. Foster care. Strangers.

* No.*

The panic was a cold spike in his chest, sharper than the taser. He couldn't leave her. He had promised ice cream. He had promised to keep her safe.

He looked at the server rack. The Halon system was triggered electronically.

Julian grabbed the heavy metal chair from the desk. He didn't smash the door; that was pointless. He smashed the control panel on the inside wall. Sparks flew.

The hissing didn't stop.

"Think, Thorne," he growled. "Logic."

The system needed a seal to be effective. If the seal was broken, the sensors would shut off the gas to prevent waste.

He looked at the floor. A raised access panel for the cabling.

He dropped to his knees, clawing at the tile. His fingers bled. His lungs burned. The room was getting dark.

* Lily.*

He ripped the tile up. Beneath was the crawlspace for the ventilation. It wasn't fresh air, but it was air.

He smashed the conduit pipe running through the floor with the chair leg.

* CRACK.*

Air rushed in from the lower level. The pressure differential triggered the safety sensor. The hissing stopped. The red light turned to amber. **[SYSTEM FAULT.]**

Julian pressed his face to the hole in the floor, gasping in dusty, stale air. It tasted like life.

He lay there for a minute, his heart hammering. Then he stood up. He was dizzy, bruised, and furious.

He checked his gun. Still in the holster.

It was auction time.