My heart hammered against my ribs, but my fingers did not shake.

“If you shoot, my hand slips,” I said.

“That wire cuts the circuit.”

“If the circuit breaks incorrectly, the blasting caps ignite.”

Caleb shifted on the concrete floor behind me, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“She is not bluffing,” Caleb muttered.

“She built this place.”

“She knows every stone.”

The mercenary with the rifle glanced at the man with the receiver.

The timer on the explosive device blinked.

*01:54.*

*01:53.*

The red numbers seemed to burn into the dark stone of the cellar.

The damp air smelled of wet earth and old gunpowder.

“We have our orders,” the man with the rifle said.

“Our orders are to secure the estate, not blow ourselves into the Hudson River,” the second man replied.

His voice was lower, gravelly.

“The boss wants her alive if possible,” the second man added.

“But the device must be armed.”

“It is armed,” I said.

“And I am about to disarm it.”

I pressed the blade slightly harder into the blue casing.

The copper wire inside resisted the edge.