The bullet struck the flashlight in Julian’s hand, shattering it into a spray of plastic and glass.

The cellar went completely dark, save for the faint red glow of the electronic lock behind us.

Julian screamed, cursing as he dropped the ruined light.

“Emily, move,” Adrian hissed in the dark, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward the side aisle.

We scrambled behind a row of heavy oak wine racks just as Marcus fired twice into the darkness.

The muzzle flashes illuminated the cellar in brief, blinding bursts of yellow light.

Wood splattered near my face, the scent of aged red wine filling the damp air.

“Are you hurt?” Adrian whispered, his hand on my shoulder.

“No,” I breathed, my heart pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.

“The terminal,” Adrian said, his face inches from mine in the dark. “If Arthur is using the master key, he has to manually authorize each sector deletion from the executive office.”

“I can block his access,” I said, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “But I need a secure connection to the primary network.”