Adventure of Dallas Fontaine 2

The annex office smells of dust, old paper, and hot wiring. Red emergency light washes the file cabinets like blood in a pulse. Dallas stands over the open floor safe, ledger tucked under his coat, while Murderbone braces the doorway and the clerk trembles behind the desk.

A thin metallic rattle drifts from the corridor door. Not a knock, a key testing the latch. Murderbone’s ears snap forward, his body going rigid.

Dallas moves fast, crossing to the back wall and yanking the safe door wider. A loose manila slip catches in the red light, stamped with Covington’s approval mark, then disappears into his hand.

Footsteps gather outside, measured and careful, as if whoever is there already knows the room is taken. The clerk shrinks lower. Murderbone plants himself at the threshold, waiting for the first crack of the door.

Dallas glances toward the far wall, spotting a heavy ventilation grate that has been pried loose from its frame. Behind it, a narrow service shaft leads directly to the exterior loading dock, offering a clear path away from the corridor.

Dallas holsters the revolver and drops flat to the floor, ledger tucked tight under his coat. The red pulse washes the annex in broken stripes as he reaches the shaft.

He slides feetfirst into the opening, shoulders scraping metal, and Murderbone shifts back from the door to give him room.

Behind him, the clerk stares with a terrified, trapped expression, too afraid to move as the corridor noise thickens.

Dallas twists sideways, forcing the ledger and routing slip through ahead of him, then wriggles after them into the dark shaft.

The office floor falls away below his boots. Only the grate frame and the pulsing red light remain behind as he clears the opening.

He lands in the narrow duct and immediately crawls for the exit, the service shaft carrying him away from the annex and toward the loading dock.