The gas they had released into the private wings was being vented outward into the storm, but they were trapped in the dead zone.

“Look at the network status,” I said, pointing to the bottom corner of the monitor.

A small icon of a satellite was pulsing rapidly in bright green.

Beside it, a progress bar showed a data packet being uploaded to an external server.

*Distress signal broadcast: Colorado State Patrol dispatch.*

*Distress signal broadcast: Federal Bureau of Investigation, Denver Field Office.*

“Claire’s system didn’t just lock them in,” Nathan said, a faint, sad smile touching his lips. “It bypassed the jammed cellular towers.”

“How?” I asked.

“An encrypted satellite link she paid for three years ago,” he said. “It only activates during a level-five security lockdown.”

On the monitor, Vanessa was pacing the perimeter of the sealed atrium like a caged animal.

She pounded her fists against the thick steel shutter covering the eastern windows.

The snow outside was falling so heavily now that the glass behind the shutters was completely white.

Julian sat on the bottom step of the staircase, his gun resting on his knee, staring at the floor.