"Kitchen level. Everyone to kitchen level now. We have a gas leak."
The footsteps pounded away. Through the door, Sarah heard radios crackling, voices shouting about evacuation protocols.
"Gas leak?" Griff asked.
"Mercaptan in the ventilation system," Izzy said cheerfully. "Harmless but smells exactly like a gas leak. They'll spend twenty minutes checking every pipe and valve."
"You're terrifying," Sarah said, still typing. "And amazing. Account twelve... thirteen..."
"I prefer 'resourceful,'" Izzy replied.
Sarah reached account twenty, the patterns becoming clearer. David had a signature. He couldn't help but sign his work. "Account twenty-one... twenty-two..."
"Sarah, we've got a problem," Zara's voice cut through. "The auto-trigger's seventh node is fighting back. It's trying to regenerate the others we disabled."
Sarah glanced at the clock: 5:52 PM. An hour and twenty-three minutes until the auto-trigger.
"Can you hold it?"
"For now. But it's learning our attacks."
Sarah pushed harder, fingers cramping. "Thirty... thirty-one..."
Through the door, new voices. Authoritative. "False alarm on the gas. But Daniels is still missing."
"Check his assigned areas. Start with the server room."
Griff moved away from the door. "We can’t keep them out forever."
"Thirty-eight... thirty-nine..."
Footsteps in the corridor. Multiple sets. Moving systematically, checking each room.
"How many?" Sarah whispered, not looking up from her screen.
"Four, maybe five," Griff replied, ear against the door. "They're being thorough."
"Forty-three... forty-four..."
The footsteps stopped outside their door. The handle turned. Locked from inside.
"Sarah." Griff's voice was steady but urgent. "Whatever happens, keep working."
"I'm almost there. Forty-five... forty-six..."
"Server room's secured. Where's Daniels' keycard?"
"He has it."
"Get the override code."
Sarah's fingers never stopped moving. "Can Finn keep them out?"
"Already am," Finn said through comms. "But not for long. They'll figure out I'm blocking them soon."
Sarah hit account forty-seven. "Primary accounts done. Starting on cleanup accounts. These are buried deeper."
"Good," Griff said, moving to position himself better. "How much longer?"
