I heard her typing on a keyboard on her end.

“The terminal in the sub-basement clinical lab has a biometric scanner,” she said.

“I know,” I said.

“If I release the lift, you go straight to the lab,” she said.

“Understood,” I said.

“My guards will be waiting for you,” she said.

“That’s fine,” I said.

The line went dead.

A second later, the red light on the panel turned amber.

The elevator shuddered.

The heavy gears ground together, and the box began to move downward again.

“Marcus,” I whispered. “Did you track the signal?”

“I got it,” Marcus said. “She opened a secure port to send the override command.”

“Did you get the bypass codes?” I asked.

“I’m downloading the local directory now,” Marcus said. “I have five minutes before her system detects the packet sniffers.”

“Keep moving,” I said.

The elevator stopped.

The doors slid open with a soft hiss.

The air in the sub-basement was cold and dry.

It smelled of clean linen and rubbing alcohol.

The corridor ahead was long and lit by white fluorescent tubes.

The floor was made of polished white tile.