“We are under three feet of concrete here,” I said. “They cannot pierce this section without heavy ordinance.”

As if in response, a heavy thud shook the ceiling above our heads.

Dust and small pebbles rained down from the mortar joints between the old stone blocks.

Lila let out a small whimper, burying her face deeper into Nora’s shoulder.

“Almost there, baby,” Nora whispered, her voice shaking as she stumbled over a loose pipe.

Marcus reached the iron gate at the end of the corridor.

He grabbed the heavy manual wheel, his thick arms straining as he turned it against the rusted gears.

The metal groaned, a screeching sound that echoed through the tunnel.

“It is rusted solid,” Marcus grunted, his boots slipping on the wet concrete. “The oil has dried up.”

“Daniel, help him,” I ordered, laying Clara gently on the dry side of the floor.

I raised my Beretta and aimed back down the corridor we had just traversed.

A shadow crossed the light forty yards away.

I fired twice.

The shadow ducked behind a concrete pillar.