“The administrator,” Sullivan whispered.

“Marla Hensley.”

“She was in the storage room when I went to get the supplies.”

“She insisted I take that specific monitor because it had a fresh battery.”

Giovanni did not say another word.

He slammed the monitor down onto the concrete floor.

The plastic outer casing shattered.

Inside the battery compartment, taped to the lithium cell, was a small black disc.

A tiny green light on the disc was blinking every three seconds.

“A military-grade tracking beacon,” Giovanni said.

He crushed the black disc beneath the heel of his boot.

The green light went out.

“But it is too late,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

“They already know we are here.”

“Yes,” Giovanni said.

The screech of the drill grew louder, a grating metal-on-metal sound that vibrated through my teeth.

Luca stirred on the table, whimpering in his sleep.

I picked him up, wrapping him tightly in the thin hospital blanket.

His body was still too hot, but his breathing seemed slightly deeper now.

The medicine was working, but we were running out of time.