Her words were swallowed by the rising shriek of the cooling fans.

I did not wait to see if she could find a manual override.

I turned and ran down the narrow utility corridor behind the primary server racks.

Water dripped from a overhead pipe, hitting my shoulder in cold, rhythmic drops.

My flashlight beam bounced off green-painted concrete walls.

My breathing was loud, fast, and shallow inside the narrow space.

I reached the rusted ladder at the end of the corridor.

I slung my rifle over my shoulder and began to climb.

The metal rungs were cold and slick with condensation.

Above me, the hatch cover groaned as I threw my weight against the iron latch.

It gave way with a sharp metallic crack.

I hauled myself up into the freezing rain of the Maryland night.

The old Mercer estate loomed to my left, a dark silhouette against the gray sky.

The wind whipped wet pine needles against my face.

I scrambled through the wet brush, heading toward the gravel driveway where I had hidden the utility truck.

My boots sank into the black mud.