The pulsing blue light on the mercenary’s receiver went dark.

“It’s dead,” the second man said, staring at his blank screen.

“She cut the link.”

“Kill her,” Caleb screamed from the floor.

“Kill her now!”

The first mercenary squeezed his finger on the trigger.

Before he could fire, a heavy shadow lunged from the darkness of the corridor.

Marcus hit the first mercenary from the side.

The impact sounded like a car crash.

The rifle discharged, the bullet ricocheting off the stone ceiling.

Sparks showered over us as chips of historic slate fell to the floor.

The second mercenary reached for his sidearm.

I threw myself flat against the cold concrete.

Another shot rang out, louder and closer.

Daniel stepped into the doorway, his service weapon raised and smoking.

The second mercenary slumped against the doorframe, his gun slipping from his fingers.

He slid down the stone wall, leaving a dark smear on the masonry.

Marcus was on top of the first mercenary, his hands locked around the man’s throat.

The struggle was brief and violent.

The mercenary’s boots kicked against the floor, then went still.