Dallas drives the handler harder into the wall, the man’s wrist twisting under his grip. The vent above spits that same stuttering whine, like a signal trying to become a scream. Jackson slides wide to flank, while the hallway figure levels a pistol and freezes the corridor in place.

The handler’s free hand snakes for his pocket, hunting the concealed signal device. Dallas knocks it away before it clears leather. It skitters under the baseboard, blinking red once in the gloom.

Professor Dayton, pale under the hallway light, stares at the blinking device and the trembling clerk. He finally sees the shape of it, the mole is not just in the building, it is feeding someone upstairs the moment Dallas lets go.

Dallas yanks the clerk sideways and slams him between himself and the corridor, turning the panicked man into cover. Murderbone lunges low on the left, teeth bared, while Jackson fires from the right side of the doorway.

The hallway figure jerks back as the shots crack past him. He answers with a single blind round that chips the doorframe, and the clerk cries out as the impact grazes his shoulder.

Murderbone hits the figure hard at the knee, forcing him off balance and off his line of fire. The pistol dips, and Jackson steps in with another shot that drives the man deeper into the hall.

Dallas uses the clerk’s twist in the man’s body to cover the lane, and the raised gun stops looking certain. The blinking device under the baseboard keeps flashing red, now half-crushed under a boot heel.

The hallway figure retreats two steps, one hand dropping to his leg where Murderbone tore cloth and skin. Blood spots the floor, and the corridor opens just enough for another decision.

Dallas snaps the order as his revolver barks. The first shot catches the retreating man high in the chest, and the second drives him sideways into the wall of file boxes.

Jackson fires through the gap a beat later, pinning the figure in place before he can recover his aim. The corridor lamp stutters over blood on the floor and the crushed signal device.

Dayton lunges from the office threshold and drives his heel down on the blinking device. Plastic snaps, the red flash dies, and the floorboard goes dark under his shoe.

The hallway figure slumps hard against the opposite wall, weapon slipping from his hand. Murderbone stands over the fallen pistol, teeth bared, guarding the lane.

Dayton freezes with his foot still planted on the wreckage. Through the office, the handler stamp in the ledger sleeve catches the dead light, and the corridor goes suddenly still.