We all held our breath.

Then, we heard the sound of a metal canister hitting the concrete floor of the stairwell outside.

*Hiss.*

White smoke began to seep through the tiny gaps around the edges of the heavy steel door.

“Tear gas,” Giovanni said.

He pulled a black cloth mask from his pocket and tied it over his mouth and nose.

He grabbed a second mask from the shelf and handed it to me.

“Put this on Luca,” he said.

I quickly tied the cloth over my baby’s nose and mouth, making sure he could still breathe.

The smoke was rising, filling the upper half of the small room with a bitter, chemical stench.

My eyes began to water.

Giovanni stood by the door, his weapon ready.

“Get down on the floor,” he ordered.

I knelt beside the metal table, shielding Luca with my own body.

Dr. Sullivan crouched beside us, his hands over his head.

The steel door groaned under a sudden, massive pressure from the outside.

They were using a hydraulic ram.

*Thud.*

The metal frame buckled slightly.

*Thud.*

The bolts began to warp.