The rain outside was slamming against the skylight above us.

Suddenly, a bright flash of lightning lit up the entire foyer.

In that split second, I saw the mercenary raise his weapon toward Marcus’s position.

“Down!” I shouted.

I fired three times toward the balcony where the flash had shown his silhouette.

The mercenary grunted, his rifle clattering against the iron railing before he tumbled over the side.

He landed with a heavy thud on the tiled floor below.

Marcus stepped out from behind the pillar, his weapon still raised.

“Two,” Marcus said, checking the man’s pulse. “He’s gone.”

We heard a door slam on the second floor.

“Caleb,” I said.

We ran up the grand staircase, our boots heavy on the wooden steps.

The air up here smelled of copper and wet wool.

We approached the double doors of my private study.

They were locked from the inside.

“Caleb, open the door,” I said, my voice cold.

There was no answer, only the rapid clicking of a keyboard from inside.

“He’s wiping the local server,” I whispered to Marcus.