The city skyline loomed ahead, a chaotic blend of towering buildings and flickering neon signs. Eleanor stared at it, her heart racing as Bill guided the truck onto the bustling streets.
"Where to?" he asked, his voice gruff.
Eleanor pulled out a crumpled note from her jacket pocket, where Nathaniel had scribbled an address. "The Elysian Hotel," she replied. "That's where the journalist is staying."
Bill grunted. "Fancy place. You sure this person's trustworthy?"
She nodded. "Nathaniel trusted him. That's all I have to go on."
As they weaved through the city, Eleanor couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Every shadow, every figure on the sidewalk felt like a threat. She clutched the notebook tighter, willing herself to focus.
Finally, they pulled up outside the grand facade of the Elysian Hotel. Bill gave her a long, searching look. "You got guts, kid. But guts don't mean much if you're dead."
Eleanor managed a weak smile. "Thanks for the ride, Bill. I won't forget it."
As she stepped out of the truck and into the gleaming hotel lobby, she couldn't help but feel the weight of the notebook in her hands. This was it—the moment everything hinged on.
The receptionist directed Eleanor to the suite where the journalist, Richard Kane, was staying. Her steps were hesitant as she made her way to the elevator, her heart pounding with anticipation and fear.
When she reached the door, she knocked softly, clutching the notebook like a lifeline.
The door opened to reveal a tall man in his forties, with disheveled hair and an air of nervous energy. "Eleanor Hartley?" he asked, glancing down the hallway before ushering her inside.
"Yes," she said, stepping into the room. "Nathaniel sent me. He said you could help."
Richard nodded, closing the door behind her. "I've been expecting you. Do you have it?"
She handed him the notebook, her hands trembling. "This has everything—names, deals, everything they've been trying to hide."
Richard flipped through the pages, his eyes widening. "This… this is explosive. If we publish this, it'll shake the foundations of the country."
Eleanor felt a flicker of hope, but it was short-lived. A sudden knock at the door made her freeze.
"Room service," a voice called from the other side.
Richard frowned. "I didn't order—"
Before he could finish, the door burst open, and two men in dark suits stormed in, guns drawn. Eleanor backed away, her heart pounding as one of the men grabbed Richard and shoved him against the wall.
"Give it to us," the man growled, his eyes cold.
Richard glanced at Eleanor, panic in his eyes. "Run!"
But she was already moving, darting toward the balcony as the second man lunged for her. She slammed the sliding glass door shut behind her and climbed over the railing, her hands shaking as she gripped the cold metal. Below her, the city buzzed with life, oblivious to the danger she was in.
The door behind her shattered, and she had no choice. She jumped.