The first hiss of the Halon gas was a sound of pure, chemical death. From the ceiling nozzles, a heavy, white mist descended, freezing the humid air of the vault instantly. Halon didn’t just choke you; it replaced the oxygen molecules entirely, freezing the respiratory tract on contact.
"Don't breathe," Edward ordered, his voice a low, raspy command against her ear.
He didn't wait for her consent. He slammed his body flush against hers, pinning her against the reinforced tungsten-carbide wall, using his massive torso as a physical shield against the descending chemical fog. With one hand, he ripped the wet linen pocket square from his jacket and pressed it firmly over Evelyn’s nose and mouth. With his other hand, he held his smartphone up between them.
The screen was a window into a liv
