The Edinburgh Network – Betrayal, Love and Ancient Power
By Lea von Löwenstein
Chapter 8: Cornered
Part 1: Closing In
Saturday, 07:02, Royal Infirmary Service Tunnels
Torch beams danced along the damp walls, drawing closer with professional precision. The dogs’ excited panting echoed through the Victorian tunnel, their claws clicking against the ancient stones with increasing urgency.
“They’re coming in from both sides,” Callum’s voice was barely a whisper, his body still shielding Jenny against the dead end. “Two teams, coordinating their approach.”
“Nowhere left to run,” a heavily accented voice called out, the words bouncing off centuries of Edinburgh stone. “Perhaps we can discuss this situation like civilized people?”
Jenny’s fingers continued their desperate exploration of the brickwork as the first torch beam caught their shadows. The maintenance coveralls suddenly felt like poor protection against what was coming.
“Civilized?” Callum’s Scottish burr carried clear contempt. “Was shooting that guard your idea of civilized?”
“Unfortunate necessity,” another voice, closer now. “Like many things we must do tonight.”
The dogs’ growls grew louder as more torch beams converged on their position. Jenny could make out at least six distinct lights now, all steadily advancing.
“Last chance,” the first voice offered. “The librarian comes with us. You, Detective MacLean, might yet walk away.”
Saturday, 07:03, Royal Infirmary Service Tunnels
“The librarian stays with me,” Callum’s voice was steel wrapped in Scottish velvet. “Though I’m curious what’s worth killing a guard over.”
“Detective MacLean,” the accented voice carried a smile now. “Always asking questions. Always investigating. Did you never wonder why certain cases… disappeared from your desk?”
The torch beams held steady, creating a web of light that trapped them against the Victorian brickwork. Jenny’s fingers found another irregular stone, but before she could explore it…
CRACK!
The shot exploded through the tunnel, deafening in the confined space. No silencer this time – they’d moved past pretense.
“Jesus!” Callum’s body jerked, then pressed harder against Jenny, shielding her. Hot blood seeped through his maintenance coveralls, spreading across his left arm.
“That,” the voice was closer now, “was a warning. The next one goes somewhere more permanent.”
“Quite the negotiating technique,” Callum’s burr was tight with pain but unflinching. “Though I’ve had worse first dates.”
Saturday, 07:03, Royal Infirmary Service Tunnels
Jenny’s fingers pressed hard against the irregular brick just as Callum’s hand moved with lethal grace. His service weapon appeared as if conjured from the maintenance coveralls, and his shot was devastatingly precise.
The lead shooter dropped with a grunt of surprise, his torch spinning across the ancient stones. The tunnel erupted into chaos.
“DOWN!” Callum roared, shoving Jenny against the wall as answering fire lit up the confined space.
Behind them, the Victorian brickwork groaned. Jenny’s discovered mechanism was awakening, decades-old gears grinding into reluctant motion. The wall began to pivot, ancient engineering responding to desperate need.
“Breach team, move in!” The remaining voices were all business now, their earlier civility evaporating like morning mist over the Royal Mile.
“Sorry about the blood on your bandaging job, lass,” Callum’s voice was tight but his aim remained steady as he fired again, forcing their attackers back. “Though I think we’ve got bigger problems.”
The hidden door continued its agonizingly slow movement, revealing a darkness beyond that promised either salvation or another trap.
Part 2: Into Darkness
Saturday, 07:04, Behind the Victorian Wall
The shot caught Jenny at her temple – a glancing blow that painted fire across her skin. The world tilted sideways as she stumbled through the opening, consciousness wavering like a candle in Edinburgh’s winter wind.
“Jenny!” Callum’s voice seemed to come from very far away.
She was vaguely aware of falling, of rough stone against her palms, of warm wetness trickling down her face. The darkness beyond the door swallowed her whole.
Callum’s answering fire was precise, devastating. Each shot found its mark with cold Scottish efficiency.
“That’s for the guard,” CRACK! A body fell.
“For Jenny,” CRACK! Another grunt of pain.
“And that’s just because I really hate your accent.” CRACK-CRACK!
Through blurred vision, Jenny saw him backing through the opening, his service weapon never wavering. His hand found the ancient lever beside the doorway.
The mechanism engaged with a sound like centuries sighing. Victorian engineering sealed them into absolute darkness as the last echoes of gunfire faded.
“Jenny?” Callum’s voice was tight with worry, his hands finding her in the blackness. “Talk to me, lass.” His hands wet of her blood.
Saturday, 07:05, The Hidden Space
“Just… grazed,” Jenny managed, her fingers exploring the wound. The sticky warmth of blood matted her hair, but the cut itself felt superficial. “Though my head’s ringing like St Giles’ cathedral bells.”
Callum’s hands gently probed her temple, his touch professional despite their intimate history. “Nasty slice, but you’re right. Bullet just kissed you.”
Through the Victorian stonework, they could hear their pursuers regrouping.
“Check every bloody stone!” An accented voice commanded. “These passages always have multiple entrances. And get the thermal imaging gear up here!”
“Thermal imaging?” Jenny tried to focus, fighting the dizziness. “That’s not standard private security equipment.”
“Aye,” Callum’s voice was grim in the darkness. “These aren’t Mark’s usual thugs. This is something else entirely.” His hand found hers. “Can you stand, lass? We need to move before they find another way in.”
“I think so, but-” She stopped as a new sound reached them – the distinctive metal-on-stone impact of drilling equipment.
“They’re not even trying to be subtle anymore,” Callum’s Scottish burr was tight with concern. “Up you get, love. Slowly now.”
Saturday, 07:06, The Hidden Space
Their first steps into the darkness revealed the true scale of their sanctuary. The air held a different quality here – older, deeper, with currents that suggested vast spaces ahead.
“Careful,” Jenny steadied herself against what felt like a stone pillar. “The floor’s uneven.”
“Victorian?” Callum’s question came with the soft scrape of his tactical boots testing the ground.
“Older,” her fingers traced the rough-hewn surface. “Much older. This feels like medieval work.”
The drilling sounds grew more distinct, accompanied by the crack of splintering stone.
“Sir!” A muffled voice carried through the wall. “We’ve found something. Looks like part of the old castle foundations.”
“Break through it,” the accented commander ordered. “Whatever it takes.”
“But sir, the structural integrity-“
“I said break through! They have something we need, and I want it now!”
Jenny’s hand found Callum’s arm in the darkness. “They’re going to bring the whole passage down if they keep that up.”
“Aye,” his voice was tight. “And I’m down to three rounds. We need to-“
A massive crack interrupted him, followed by the ominous sound of shifting stone above them.
Saturday, 07:07, The Medieval Chamber
Another crack echoed through the darkness as ancient stones protested their disturbance. But it was Jenny’s sharp intake of breath that made Callum pause.
“The library records,” she whispered, her voice tight with sudden understanding. “That’s what they’re after. The medieval banking ledgers I’ve been translating – they’re not just historical documents.”
“What do you mean, lass?” Callum steadied her as more debris rained down from above.
“They’re maps,” Jenny’s librarian mind raced ahead despite her injury. “The merchant guilds encoded their secret vault locations in their financial records. I thought I was just cataloging medieval banking practices, but-“
A massive section of ceiling crashed down behind them, bringing torchlight and chaos with it. Through the falling stones, they caught glimpses of their pursuers.
“The ledgers!” The accented commander shouted. “Where are the original ledgers?”
“This way!” Jenny pulled Callum toward what felt like an archway. “The merchants always built escape routes. If I’m right, this passage should lead to-“
The rest of her words were lost as the medieval chamber began to collapse in earnest, centuries of Edinburgh stone giving way at last.
Part 3: When Hell Breaks Loose
Saturday, 07:08, Collapsing Medieval Chamber
Edinburgh’s underground seemed to tear itself apart around them. Centuries of carefully engineered stone surrendered to modern violence, creating a symphony of destruction that echoed through time itself.
“Move!” Callum’s voice cut through the chaos as he pulled Jenny through the archway. Behind them, screams mixed with the sound of falling masonry as their pursuers faced the consequences of their aggressive drilling.
“Bozhe moy!” Someone shouted in Russian. “The whole bloody thing’s coming down!”
Jenny stumbled in the darkness, her head wound making balance treacherous. Callum’s grip on her hand was the only constant in a world gone mad with motion.
“The thermal imaging equipment!” The commander’s accented voice rose above the destruction. “Forget the others, just grab the-“
His words cut off in a crash of stone meeting stone. The medieval chamber was claiming its own, extracting payment in blood and bone for its desecration.
“Keep going, lass,” Callum urged as they ran blind through the ancient passage. “Though I’d appreciate a hint about where we’re actually heading.”
Saturday, 07:09, Ancient Passage
A faint blue glow began to penetrate the darkness ahead – phosphorescent fungi that had made their home in these forgotten spaces. Their ethereal light revealed glimpses of what lay before them.
“Oh my God,” Jenny breathed, her steps faltering despite the chaos behind them.
The passage opened into a vast chamber, its walls lined with iron-bound chests and ancient strongboxes. Centuries-old merchant marks were carved into the stone, their meanings lost to time. The bioluminescent fungi painted everything in an otherworldly azure light.
“The vault,” she whispered. “The actual medieval merchant vault. We’ve found-“
A fresh wave of destruction cut off her words as more of the tunnel collapsed behind them. Through gaps in the falling stone, torch beams danced wildly, accompanied by shouts of both triumph and terror.
“They’re still coming,” Callum’s voice was tight as he checked his weapon. “Three rounds left, and now we know what they’re willing to kill for.”
The blue light caught the blood on Jenny’s temple, making it look almost black. “The ledgers weren’t maps to the vault,” she realized. “They were warnings about what’s hidden here.”
Saturday, 07:10, The Medieval Vault
Jenny’s fingers traced the merchant marks, her librarian’s mind translating symbols that hadn’t been seen by human eyes in centuries. The blue fungal light made the carvings seem alive, dancing beneath her touch.
“These aren’t just guild marks,” her voice was tight with discovery. “They’re warnings. Look – this one means ‘forbidden knowledge.’ And here – ‘seal of the seven.'”
“Seven what?” Callum kept his weapon trained on the partially collapsed entrance, where sounds of pursuit still echoed.
“Seven merchant families who…” Jenny’s translation cut off as she reached a particular symbol. “No. That’s not possible.”
“What is it, lass?”
“This vault,” her fingers shook as they traced the ancient carving, “it wasn’t built to protect wealth. It was built to contain something. Something the merchants feared enough to bury beneath their city.”
A chest in the corner caught the phosphorescent light, its iron bands marked with symbols that made Jenny’s breath catch. “That’s why they want the ledgers. They’re not treasure maps – they’re instructions for handling whatever’s in these containers.”
“Handling what exactly?” Callum’s Scottish burr was tense as more debris rained down from the tunnel.
“According to this mark?” Jenny’s voice wavered. “Something that walks between worlds.”
