They stormed my store to reclaim a 130-pound Cane Corso, but when his billionaire owner finally arrived, the dog ignored his command and sat on my foot—then suddenly froze at something behind him.

Roman moved with terrifying speed. He did not raise his rifle; he simply threw his combat knife across the room. The blade buried itself deep into the chest of the mercenary aiming at Titan.

Titan roared, lunging forward and tearing the rifle out of the second man's hands, throwing him across the room like a ragdoll.

Silas cursed, drawing a silver revolver from his coat and firing wildly at Roman. The bullets sparked against the concrete pillars. Roman dove behind the heavy metal workbench, laying down suppressing fire to keep Silas pinned.

"Upload at 85 percent!" the computer voice announced cheerfully, bizarrely contrasting with the brutal warfare in the room.

I stayed curled behind the servers, my ears ringing from the deafening gunfire. I peaked out and saw Silas backing toward the ruined entrance. He was losing control of the situation, and he knew it.

"Burn it all down!" Silas yelled to his remaining men outside.

Suddenly, a distinct, rhythmic thumping filled the air. It was not the high-pitched whine of Silas’s transport choppers. This was heavier, deeper. The unmistakable sound of military-grade Blackhawks.

A blinding spotlight swept through the shattered skylight, illuminating the smoky bunker.

"FBI! Drop your weapons!" a booming voice echoed from the sky.

I recognized that voice. It was Agent Miller, the rogue federal agent who had arrested Elias on the yacht six months ago. Roman had secretly sent him our coordinates the moment Silas attacked.

Ropes descended through the roof, and heavily armed federal tactical teams breached the bunker from all sides. Silas’s mercenaries, realizing they were completely outgunned, threw down their weapons and raised their hands in surrender.

But Silas was not going to surrender. He looked at the progress bar, which had just ticked to 92%, and made a desperate play. He pulled a thermite grenade from his belt, intending to throw it directly at the server banks where I was hiding. If that grenade went off, the servers would melt into slag, and the files would be destroyed forever.

He pulled the pin and reared his arm back.

He never got the chance to throw it.

Titan launched himself off a concrete slab, flying through the air and crashing directly into Silas’s chest. The impact sent them both tumbling to the floor. The thermite grenade rolled harmlessly away, detonating in an empty corner of the room in a shower of blinding white sparks.

Roman sprinted forward, kicking Silas’s revolver away, and pinned the older man to the floor with a heavy boot to his throat.