“Kill them!” Elena screamed.

A muzzle flash lit up the doorway, a blinding burst of orange light.

The sound of the gunshot was deafening in the small concrete space.

The bullet chipped the stone near my head, spraying plaster dust into my eyes.

I threw myself to the left, hitting the cold floor hard.

Beside me, Marcus fired twice into the dark.

The mercenaries returned fire, their bullets ripping into the metal boiler tanks.

Steam began to hiss violently from a punctured pipe, filling the air with hot, white fog.

I crawled forward, my hand searching the wet concrete for my dropped weapon.

My fingers closed around the cold steel of my gun.

Through the steam, I saw the silhouette of Elena’s flashlight rolling on the floor.

She had dropped it when the shooting started.

The beam pointed toward the far corner, illuminating the thick iron pipes.

I heard a heavy thud, followed by a man’s grunt of pain.

Marcus had reached the doorway.

He was using his size to push through the narrow opening, driving his shoulder into the nearest mercenary.