When they reached the bottom, Gabriella led him through another hallway. The air was cooler here, almost sterile, like a vault. They walked past several nondescript doors before stopping in front of one that looked more reinforced than the others.
She pressed her thumb against a biometric scanner next to the door. With a soft beep, the door unlocked and slid open with a hiss. As they stepped inside, motion-sensor lights flickered on, illuminating the room.
His jaw dropped. The room was massive, with walls lined from floor to ceiling with every weapon imaginable. Rifles, shotguns, pistols, and knives were displayed meticulously on racks and shelves. Even more exotic weapons—crossbows, katanas, and grenades—were placed as if they were pieces in an art gallery.
"Holy...," Jackson began but
