The clicking came again.
Sharp.
Measured.
Deliberate.
Marcus raised a closed fist, freezing every Atlas operator where they stood. The ancient barracks, silent only seconds earlier, suddenly felt far smaller than its weathered stone walls suggested. Dust drifted lazily through the pale glow of the soldiers' covered flashlights while every man listened for another sound.
Click.
Click-click.
This time there was no mistake.
It came from beneath the floor.
Not outside.
Not the street.
Something occupied a lower level.
Tomas slowly knelt beside one of the cracked stone tiles. He pressed an ear against the cold surface, remaining perfectly still for nearly twenty seconds before looking back at Marcus.
"There are multiple."
"Distance?"
"Hard to tell."
He frowned.
"Maybe fifteen meters below."
