The extraction was a blur of calculated movement.
My hands were steady as I forced the elevator doors open on the twenty-eighth floor. Metal screeched. The doors gave way with a shudder. The hallway outside was empty and silent. The carpet was thick under my boots. The air smelled like dust and panic.
"Move," I said. Low. Sharp.
Vivian and her two guards climbed out of the car. Vivian's legs were shaking. Her suit was covered in concrete dust. Her eyes were wide but focused. The guards had their pistols up, sweeping the hallway left and right. Their hands were trembling.
"Stairwell," I ordered. "Now. No talking."
We moved. Fast.
The emergency stairwell door opened with a heavy thud. Cold air hit us. Concrete steps spiraled down. The sound of our footsteps echoed. I took point. USP in one hand. Eyes up. Every landing got cleared before the next foot went down.
