A metallic clang echoed through the sterile concrete hallway as Jeremiah finished securing the Semtex charges and det cord to the bunker entrance. Then he double-checked the connections with practiced ease.
In the distance, a muffled boom resonated from somewhere deep within the mountain. It was faint, but unmistakable. It was the unmistakable pop of a flashbang grenade.
Isaiah, his gaze fixed on the metal door, quirked an eyebrow at Jeremiah. "My guess is that Job has company," he remarked, his voice low and dry.
Jeremiah met his gaze, a silent exchange passing between them. No need for words. He simply flashed a thumbs-up, the universal signal for 'ready.' With a shared nod, the Vatican Knights began to retreat toward the tree line with their footsteps muffled by the grass and putting as much distance between them and the blast zone as possible.
Reaching a safe distance, Jeremiah took a deep breath, then he pressed the red button on the remote detonator, a small, innocuous device held in his gloved palm. In that instant, the world seemed to hold its breath a moment before he flipped the toggle switch.
Then, hellfire erupted. A blinding flash illuminated, followed by a deafening roar that sent shockwaves vibrating through the earth beneath their feet. The reinforced steel door buckled inwards, ripped from its hinges in a fiery explosion. Debris rained down around them, a hail of twisted metal and pulverized concrete.
As the dust cloud settled, the entrance to the bunker gaped open, leading into a myriad of darkened hallways.
The way was clear.
As they raced across the open field from the tree line to the bunker, they all hoped that Job was still alive.