Leaning back, arcing over the edge of the server’s shelf I throw the window at the owner of the voice, a tall man with tanned skin and dyed blonde hair. It hits his eyebrow, blood spattering down his fresh, white shirt. I take the knife from between my teeth and throw that too. It slices into the throat of the next guard, arterial spray decorating his leader who pushes him back and dives towards me in one swift motion.

I grip hard then tip the shelves on top of him, knocking him over and the gauntlet under the server, still downloading. As long as they focus on me, we’ll get the data. Twisting my elbows outwards, I lever myself through the small window, shoulders barely slim enough to fit.

‘Get outside,’ he shouts as lightning forks into the sea beyond the cliffs.