“Yes,” he said, patting his pocket.

We reached a steep set of metal stairs.

They spiraled down into the dim light of the lower level.

The hum of the building’s generators grew louder.

It was a deep, bone-rattling vibration.

We descended the stairs quickly.

My knees ached from the steep descent.

At the bottom of the stairs, the walkway opened into a wider platform.

Below us was the generator room.

Massive silver turbines spun in neat rows.

The room was brightly lit, but it appeared empty.

“The incubator room is just past the double doors over there,” Vance said.

He pointed to the far side of the generator floor.

Before we could take a step, the double doors swung open.

Three men in black tactical gear stepped out.

They carried short-barreled automatic rifles.

They did not fire immediately.

They spread out, blocking our path to the exit.

One of them raised his hand, signaling us to stop.

“Do not move,” he called out over the roar of the generators.

I pulled Vance behind a thick steel support pillar.

“They have the floor covered,” I said.