“The physical bridge requires a local transmitter, and whoever placed it will try to retrieve it before the lockdown locks them in.”

Carter looked at Turner, his face pale, waiting for a counter-command.

“If you leave this room, Carter, you’re looking at a court-martial,” Turner warned, his voice shaking with anger.

“If you don’t leave this room, Lieutenant, you’ll be answering to a federal grand jury,” I said.

The silence in the room grew heavy, punctuated only by the rhythmic pulse of the red warning light.

I watched the sweat drip down the side of Carter’s face.

Beside him, Chief Hayes took a slow, deliberate breath, his hand resting casually near his sidearm.

The overhead lights flickered once, then dimmed, leaving us in the crimson glow of the emergency system.

On my tablet, the signal strength indicator began to fluctuate wildly.

The transmitter was moving.

A soft click sounded from the ventilation shaft above our heads.

I froze, my eyes darting toward the steel grate of the ventilation intake.

The metal hummed with a low, unnatural vibration.

“Did you hear that?” I whispered.