Vasquez who had retraced his steps, froze mid-step.
A faint, unnatural tick… tick… reverberated through the soil around him. His instincts screamed—this wasn't the rhythm of water, nor the settling of earth. It was mechanical.
His flashlight beam flicked to the walls. Small, dark objects glinted faintly—wedged into the carved soil.
Explosives!
"Marx!" his voice crackled through the comms, urgent and clipped. "The tunnel is rigged. Charges on the walls. Get everyone out of the chalet—now!"
The people in the room moved quickly and stuffed the hole in the floor with the mattress, then placed the bed on top of it before exiting the room and closing the door.
Prince Raquim shouted for the people to evacuate to a safe zone in the chalet.
The tick shifted into a shrill beep.
