A grunt of pain echoed from the top of the stairs, followed by the heavy thud of a body rolling down the first three steps.

I reached out in the dark, my hand brushing against the rough wool of Nora’s sweater.

“Nora, where is Lila?” I asked, my fingers tightening on her arm.

“She’s behind the generator housing,” Nora whispered, her breath hitching. “I put her under the canvas cover.”

“Get her,” I said. “Now.”

Clara let out a low, ragged cough from her wooden chair.

“Adrian,” she whispered, her hand clawing weakly at my trousers. “The code… the rest of it…”

“Save your breath, Clara,” I said, bending down to slide my arm under her knees. “We are moving.”

I lifted her. She weighed almost nothing, her bones brittle beneath her thin hospital gown.

Another burst of automatic fire erupted from the upper landing.

The muzzle flashes illuminated the cellar in brief, stuttering strobes of blue and white light.

I saw two men in black tactical gear and Kevlar vests descending the stairs.

Daniel fired three rounds, forcing them to duck back behind the steel doorframe.