“You are getting old, Salvatore,” Adrian said, his voice strained. “You missed the secondary frequency.”

“Perhaps,” Salvatore’s voice replied. “But we didn’t miss your little friends outside.”

A loud, metallic alarm began to blare from the speaker on our console.

At the same time, the lights in our safe house flickered and died, plunging us into darkness.

The only light came from the emergency red beacons in the corners of the ceiling.

“They found us,” Marcus said, drawing his weapon again and moving toward the corridor.

“No,” Isabella said, her voice deadly calm. “They didn’t find us. They are trying to flush us out.”

She reached under the desk and pulled out a heavy black case.

She popped the latches and opened it, revealing three tactical headsets and two more pistols.

“What are we doing?” I asked, my heart pounding in my ears.

“We are going to get him,” Isabella said, tossing a headset to me.

“And the children?” I asked, looking back toward the cot where Noah was beginning to stir.

“Marcus will stay with them,” Isabella said. “The safe room inside the vault is secure.”