“Three.”

The blue light of the terminal flickered, casting long, dancing shadows on the concrete walls.

“Two.”

A sudden, sharp metallic crash echoed from the upper level of the bunker.

Caroline froze.

The tactical officers instantly spun around, their weapons aiming up the concrete stairs.

My radio earpiece crackled to life, Mara’s voice cutting through the static.

“Natalie, we’ve got company,” Mara whispered, her breath ragged.

“And they aren’t here to talk.”

The lead officer took two steps toward the stairs, his rifle raised to his shoulder.

The barrel of his weapon swept the dark landing above us.

Another crash sounded, more distant this time, accompanied by the sharp pop of a small-caliber handgun.

“Hold your positions,” Caroline said.

Her voice was quiet, but it carried clearly over the rumble of the generator.

The officers froze, their boots scraping against the damp concrete.

Caroline did not look at the stairs.

She kept her eyes fixed on my face, her hand still extended toward me.

“Mara is a distraction,” Caroline said.

“She is a rogue agent with no resources left.”

“She cannot help you, Natalie.”