It remained still, pointing toward the main entrance of the cellar corridor.

I slipped past its line of sight, keeping close to the rough stone wall.

The security closet was just ahead, its door slightly ajar as Sloane had promised.

A thin yellow light spilled from the gap, illuminating the dusty concrete floor.

I pushed the door open with my fingertips.

Inside, a wall of gray metal boxes hummed with electrical current.

Wires of every color ran along the ceiling in metal trays.

The manual override wheel for the vault door was painted a bright, warning red.

It was secured by a heavy steel padlock, but the key was dangling from a hook on the side of the box.

My hand trembled as I reached for the key.

I unlocked the padlock, the heavy iron clanking loudly in the small space.

I held my breath, listening for any sound of footsteps from the floor above.

There was nothing but the steady, low hum of the generators.

I turned the red wheel to the left, feeling the resistance of the hydraulic system.