He hit the stairwell door and pushed through, taking the next flight down without breaking stride as the rest of them followed, the movement tightening, compressing, but never slowing.
Down was still the only direction that mattered.
They hit the next landing and didn’t slow, pushing out into another corridor, wider this time, darker, the emergency lights weaker here.
The next stairwell door stood closed.
Black’s hand hit it and pushed through.
Movement met them on the landing.
Guns came up on both sides.
Held.
No one fired.
“Easy,” a voice said.
Winter.
He stepped forward out of the dark, weapon still up but not aimed.
“Almost fucking shot you,” Black muttered.
“All that matters is you didn’t,” Winter smirked.
Syx stood just behind Winter, eyes sharp, tracking the group. Memphis posted a step higher, covering the upper flight.
“Took you long enough,” Memphis said.
“Traffic,” Sage shot back.
Winter’s gaze moved across them—quick count, quick read. “You guys good?”
“Good enough,” Law said. “They’re trying to box us in. It’s not working.”
“Yeah,” Winter’s smile was wicked. He eyed Law’s knife. “Out of ammo?”
“Mmm,” Law said and took the extra clip Winter held out. He shoved it into the chamber and cocked it.
“Below’s not clear,” Syx said. “They’re moving between levels. Not holding position.”
“Yeah,” Sage said, already nodding. “We saw it.”
“So, what now?” Memphis asked.
“We don’t stop,” Law said.
“What about Frost and Seth?” Sage asked, turning to Mac.
“They’re the least of our worries,” Noah said with a slight snort. “Those two have probably cleaved through half of Voss’s men already.”
“This guy’s mistake was thinking he could contain us,” Syx muttered, falling in behind Memphis.
“Stupid,” Sage agreed.
Law took the first step down.
