Step eight.
Step nine.
Step ten.
Julian Vance stepped backwards up the narrow slate staircase, his eyes locked onto the green linoleum runner of the third-floor corridor receding below him.
His boots moved in deliberate, mechanical cadence. With each upward, backward step, his right heel rose eight inches through the greenish-yellow fog, hooked the cold brass nosing bolted beneath the slate tread, and locked down with a firm, solid click.
Beside him, Elena’s hand rested on his left shoulder, her weight perfectly balanced against his stride.
Behind Elena, Lin Mei climbed at the rear of their three-person column, her fingers keeping tension on Elena’s utility belt.
None of them turned their heads.
