A flashlight beam slashed through the gas from the far end of the tunnel. Shouts, security closing in.
The woman in red stilled, her gaze flicking past him.
Her blade dipped, just enough to show she wasn't striking again.
"You can't keep it from all of us," she said softly. Then she slid past him like water, vanishing into the crawlspace hatch the thief had used.
Ting Cheng stood there, tube under his arm, chest rising and falling against the fog, and the echo of her words still hanging in the air.
The gas was thinning, but it still burned Ting Cheng's eyes as he pushed forward.
The containment tube's weight was solid against his ribs, cold metal leeching through the fabric of his shirt.
Boots pounded toward him, and two security men broke through the haze.
One reached for the tube, but Ting Cheng angled his body away.
"Seal this route and lock sublevel one," he ordered. His voice was calm, but the clipped edge told them no arguments.
"We're not losing this again."
