"Zach," said Shelton, "the only thing I could do for you is shut the blast doors. That'd prevent any more from getting in, but you'll be trapped in there too."
"That'd be nice," replied Neku, "But either way we won't be heading for the sublevels any time soon. Sorry."
"Roger. Good luck." Shelton sat back, severing the connection. "Let's get some terrorist audio on file, in case they say something we might need later." Shelton ejected a disc from his laptop and replaced it with a blank music CD. "You never know."
"But our connection is glitchy at best. We can barely hear individual words, much less information specifically on Lockdown. We need someone to search the sublevels. We'll just have to-"
"Wait," Shelton interrupted, snapping his fingers. "I got it. Even if they're trapped," he opened his radio flashlight. "There's at least one other person who isn't."
He switched frequencies. "Syberis, come in. Syberis, do you read?"
Behind him, Montgomery suddenly perked up. He had spotted the Dragonstorm disc, now sitting inches from Shelton's left hand...