“We will find out soon,” Ryker said.

A sudden, sharp scratching sound came from the other side of the steel door.

It sounded like metal scraping against metal.

They had found the bookcase door.

The electronic keypad on our side of the wall suddenly beeped.

A red light began to flash on the interior control panel.

Someone was entering a code on the outside.

“How do they have the code?” I whispered, my breath catching in my throat.

Ryker raised his gun, pointing it directly at the center of the steel door.

“They don’t,” Ryker said, his voice flat. “But they have a bypass tool.”

The keypad beeped again, a long, continuous tone.

The heavy steel bolt inside the door slid back with a loud, echoing clack.

The door began to swing open.

The steel door creaked open, scraping hard against the concrete floor.

A tall man in a dark tactical jacket stepped into the gap.

He held a suppressed pistol, his face covered by a black balaclava.

Ryker did not hesitate.

He fired twice.

The shots were deafening in the confined concrete space of the safe room.