Georg shouted over the din, “but it can’t be a coincidence that you’re here.” He pressed a key combination and the laptop shut down, encrypting his work. He replaced the ancient machine over the top, then grabbed a small padded case as he indicated the door. “Come on, we must get out of here.” As they ran through the winding corridors of the basement level, Morgan caught glimpses into the rooms they passed. One was stacked with the clothing of those long dead and another filled with crosses illuminated only by candlelight. Eventually the three came to an exit and Georg led them up a tiny staircase. He pushed open the door at the top carefully, inching it open to check the suburban street beyond. “You must go,” he said. “If the police are pulling in people for questioning, you can’t be caught or they’ll keep you in cells while the Raven rampages out there. I’ll go back down to join the evacuation.” “Köszönöm,” Zoltan said. “Thank you, my friend.”
