Here is the text translated into English with no changes to the original content, structure, or meaning:
Flash handed his guys two pistols from under his coat, then gave Ethan a doubtful look.
They burst out of the room into the corridor the very same one where the detector had clicked just a minute earlier. Now every creak of the floorboard felt like betrayal, every step echoed like something that could give them away.
Ethan walked third, feeling sweat trickling down his back under his jacket.
"Okay, main thing is to stick with Flash, main thing is not to screw up…"
A bullet shot forward, silently, like a shadow in the night. Gideon walked last, covering the rear, constantly glancing over his shoulder.
His breathing was even, but Ethan could hear him muttering under his breath:
"If they've sent flies inside the house…"
"We need to check the basement first."
The descent into the basement was narrow; the wooden steps groaned under Bruno's weight, every second one creaking like an old bone.
The smell of dampness, mold, and old coal hit the nose like a slap.
Ethan turned on the flashlight on his phone only at the very bottom step, a tiny red filter so they wouldn't blind each other or give themselves away with bright light.
"Red light can't be seen by drones from a distance," Flash whispered.
"But keep it low, near the floor. And turn it off as soon as we enter the tunnel."
Flash pushed the metal door rusty, heavy, with peeling green paint. The hinges squealed quietly, but in the silence it sounded like a scream.
Behind it the tunnel.
Low ceiling, brick vaults streaked with moisture, puddles of black water reflecting the red flashlight beam. Somewhere far off came the sound of dripping drops.
"Move east," Flash whispered, pointing ahead.
"By smell, it's closer to the river there. Stay along the right wall so we don't get lost."
"If you hear humming, drop into the water to cool your heat signature."
They ran, not at full speed, so as not to splash the water too loudly, but fast, rhythmically.
Bullet went ahead, sniffing the air, sometimes freezing and growling quietly, almost inaudibly. Ethan felt the water slapping against his ankles, cold as ice.
"If we stay here too long, our feet will slowly go numb. But that's better than getting caught."
Ethan thought to himself while moving sideways.
Suddenly Bullet stopped dead. Ears forward, tail down, body tense.
Flash raised his hand, everyone froze instantly.
From above, through the concrete floors, came a low, vibrating hum.
Not loud close, very close. Like the buzzing of a huge bee.
"They're scanning the house," Gideon whispered from behind.
"Thermal imager at full power. 4K cameras, infrared spectrum 7 to 14 microns."
"They see heat through walls. If we go up to the surface now, they'll spot us in a second."
Bruno nodded toward a side passage, narrow, almost blocked with debris, old crates, rusty pipes, and scraps of wire.
"There!" Bruno grunted.
"Old collector, might hide our heat signature. Water there is knee-deep, will cool the bodies."
"Move in a chain," Flash added.
"Ethan, hold onto my belt. Don't fall behind. If you see a red light, shout."
They slipped into the gap.
Shoulders were cramped; Ethan felt brick scraping his skin through his jacket. He caught his sleeve on protruding rebar; the fabric tore with a rip.
Pain shot through his arm, but he only hissed, letting a little air out through his teeth, and didn't stop moving forward.
Plop!
The hum from above grew louder.
Now it pulsed drones were circling like vultures over prey. One, judging by the sound, was hovering directly above the roof of their former house, its propellers spinning at 5000 RPM, creating a low bass.
Flash walked first, crouching under the low ceiling.
Suddenly he froze, raised his hand again.
Ahead in the half-darkness, two red lights gleamed. Slowly approaching.
Another drone.
Miniature, fist-sized, inside the collector. Black matte body, four propellers 5 cm in diameter spinning silently. Camera on the nose, lens the size of a coin, with infrared sensor.
"Shit…" Bruno exhaled.
"Autonomous fly with network link. If it transmits a signal…"
The drone blinked an infrared flash. Scanning. The beam slid along the wall, illuminating streaks of moisture.
Bullet lunged forward with a growl that echoed through the tunnel.
Her jaws clamped onto the machine's body. Metal crunched under her fangs. Sparks flew like stars. The drone jerked, vibrated, tried to climb upward, propellers screaming at maximum. But the ferret whipped her head.
Once, twice. The body cracked like an eggshell. The red lights went out. The drone fell into the water with a splash.
But it was too late.
Above, the hum turned into a roar.
Several drones simultaneously dove downward through ventilation shafts, through gaps in the ceilings.
Their spotlights sliced through the darkness like knives, white beams with a bluish tint, 500 lumens of power.
"Run!" Flash barked, shoving Ethan forward.
"To the wide collector! There's more room to maneuver!"
They bolted forward.
Water lashed at their legs, spray flying into their faces. Ethan slipped on slick moss, fell to one knee in the icy sludge, water soaking his pants, cold burning his skin.
He jumped up, grabbing the wall. Bruno's backpack slammed against his back; the laptop inside thudded like a second heart.
Behind them the whistle of propellers.
One drone dove into the tunnel, its light illuminated the wall, brick, old graffiti reading "Freedom or Death" and cobwebs in the corners.