Julian Vance knelt on the cold, wet concrete, his palms flat against the steel release levers.
Above his head, the ten-ton hydraulic bottle-jack was shrieking like a wounded animal. Thick black hydraulic fluid wept from its pressure seals, sizzling against the white-hot I-beam chock.
“Ten seconds, Vance!” Mac’s gravelly roar shook the doorway. “Pull the pins!”
Julian looked at Elena across Clara’s chest. Her eyes were wide, focused, and steady. On the other side, Devon had both hands wrapped around the chrome foot-rail, his jaw set in stone.
“Ready!” Elena called out.
“Ready!” Devon shouted.
Julian pulled the two red-painted release handles with a sharp, violent snap.
CLACK-CLANK.
