Tyson's chemical light stick flickered, the harsh yellow glow reflecting off the jagged, melted slag Will had left around the ceiling exhaust grate. The butcher shop air had thickened into a foul soup of cooked copper, burning wire insulation, and dried blood.
Elizabeth ignored the stench and knelt over the ruined corporate terminal. The fried motherboard radiated a scalding heat against her bare knuckles, but she didn't flinch she jammed the point of a scavenged combat knife under the protective lead casing of the primary data drive.
Tyson checked the steam pressure on his massive iron arm. "The exhaust shaft is clear. We need to move before the air completely turns to poison."
Elizabeth leaned her entire body weight onto the knife handle. "Give me ten seconds."
