“The elevator is dead, Charles,” my father said. “You cannot carry me down six flights of stairs with Bellamy’s men in the stairwell.”

“We are not leaving you,” I said, my voice rising in panic.

“Take Emily,” my father pleaded, looking at Charles. “The ventilation shaft she was looking at.”

“It leads to the old laundry chute.”

“It comes out near the loading dock in the alley.”

“I will hold them here. They won’t kill me yet. They still need the passwords.”

“No!” I cried, grabbing his shoulders. “I just found you!”

“Emily, listen to me,” my father said, his eyes drilling into mine with absolute urgency.

“If they get both of us, the truth dies forever.”

“You have the key now.”

A loud crack echoed from the doorway as the wooden frame began to splinter.

A black crowbar wedged itself through the gap between the door and the frame.

The security guard fired a single shot into the wood, and a sharp cry of pain echoed from the hallway.

“They’re breaching!” the guard yelled.

Charles grabbed my arm, his grip firm but gentle.