I reached into my pocket and pulled out the heavy metal casing of the satellite phone.

The screen flickered in the dim cellar light, casting a pale blue glow over Caleb’s sweating face.

It was an unlisted number, encrypted and routed through three different offshore servers.

I did not press the button to answer it.

I let it hum against the palm of my hand, the vibration steady and demanding.

“Answer it,” Caleb whispered, his eyes locked on the glowing glass.

“No,” I said.

I slipped the phone back into my pocket, though the vibration continued to thrum against my thigh.

“We are finishing this conversation first,” I said.

Outside the heavy oak door, the scraping sound of metal against stone grew louder.

Marcus adjusted his grip on his tactical rifle, his boots shifting on the damp gravel of the cellar floor.

“They are setting a charge, boss,” Marcus said without turning his head.

“How long?” I asked.

“Two minutes, maybe less,” Marcus replied.

I turned my attention back to Caleb, leaning my weight into the collar of his shirt.