James spun around, his torch beam cutting a frantic circle in the gloom. The voices were closer now, echoing loudly in the narrow confines of the tunnel.
He was cornered. A dead end with a locked door and two very large, very angry men closing in fast.
He looked at the locked grate, at the river roaring beyond it, and at the microchip, which was currently encased in his empty Earl Grey Caddy. The caddy was a solid, weighty piece of metal—his only piece of personal equipment that wasn't designed for delicate work.
He remembered the ricochet, the sheer chaos the caddy had caused in the main hall.
A truly terrible, but brilliant, idea formed in his mind. It was a Hail Mary pass, a long shot based entirely on the principle of unexpected absurdity.
He had no time to unlock the caddy. He had no time to disarm his pursuers. He only had time for one, decisive, reckless action.
He clutched the caddy, holding it like a small, silver grenade. He took aim not at the thick body of the grate, which was clearly immovable, but at the small, protruding loop of rusted iron that held the padlock on the outside.
He drew his arm back, gathering every ounce of strength he had left. He thought of Mei, fighting a distraction upstairs. He thought of the entire intelligence operation resting on the ten-gram piece of circuitry in the tin. He thought of his legendary tea cup waiting to be filled.
"Forgive me," he muttered to the spirit of Earl Grey, and he hurled the caddy with a desperate, all-consuming force.
CLANG!
The impact was a sharp, ear-splitting report that reverberated back down the tunnel. It was a terrible sound, a sound of destruction. The caddy hit the loop of iron, not perfectly, but with enough power to cause structural damage.
The antique padlock did not shatter. But the sheer percussive force of the solid metal striking the rusted-out hinge caused the centuries-old iron of the vent's frame to buckle and tear.
The hinge supporting the grate gave way with a screech of tortured metal. The grate didn't fall off, but it swung open a narrow, jagged crack, pivoting precariously on its single remaining hinge.
James saw his chance. He jammed his foot into the opening, holding the heavy grate open just enough to create a space—a space barely wide enough for a human being to squeeze through.
He heard the roar of his pursuers as they reached the final bend, seeing him and the sudden light of freedom