The glowing red digital numbers on the leather courier case outside the gap of the door didn't hesitate. 00:02... 00:01... 00:00.
The absolute darkness that had plunged Room 104 into a silent tomb didn't explode into a ball of fire or a shower of lethal metal shrapnel. Instead, a sharp, metallic hiss sliced through the heavy air as the pressurized seals of Elisha's courier bag ruptured violently. A thick, freezing cloud of pressurized nitrogen gas behavior blasted under the door frame, instantly condensing the warm coastal humidity of Dar es Salaam into a thick, white ground fog that swirled around my bare ankles like frozen lace.
"Isaac!" I screamed into the pitch blackness, my voice ripping from my throat in a raw, human panic as my hands scrambled wildly across the damp navy blue mili
