It took an additional seventy-five feet of ventilation shaft for us to get to another junction, and by the time we were there, I was swearing to myself that the next time a mission called for us to go through a vent, I would find a way to be somewhere else.

Like where I had set Maddox and Quess up on the floor above us, giving orders and coordinating the different groups.

I came to a stop just beyond the junction and peeked around the corner, toward the opening that would let us into the maintenance room. The shaft was ten feet long, and I could barely discern the softer colors of the nighttime lighting through the black shapes made by the slats. I held my breath for several seconds, listening for any sound of life, but everything was quiet.

Team 2 in the junction, I reported, ducking back behind the corner. No lights, and no sounds.

Roger, Maddox replied. Waiting on Teams 11, 17, and 20.

Team 11 is in position, a masculine voice reported—one of Lacey’s or Strum’s people, I wasn’t sure. We had representatives from both departments in our group, to give us the numbers we needed for this mission. We have lights on in the room ahead and can hear voices. Two—one male, one female. Possibly a guard room.

Acknowledged, Maddox replied in my ear. Her tone didn’t reveal anything, but Team 11’s report had made my nervousness return. In just a few moments, we would be slipping on our masks and waiting for the gas to blanket the floor. Only then would we move—and only to get to whoever was still awake, before they managed to make a call. Hopefully most of them would be sleeping when the gas entered and wouldn’t wake up. But the matter was complicated by the guards, who were in a position to spot the gas when it started coming in and do something about it.

If they managed to rouse the others or warn Sadie or Dreyfuss, we were sunk.

Waiting on 17 and 20, Maddox muttered into the link.

Don’t get your panties in a twist, Lacey growled across the line, responding for Team 17. This particular bit of shaft isn’t exactly the easiest to navigate. We’re slipping into the air processing unit now. We need forty-five seconds to hook up the tank.

Don’t rush it, I warned over the net. Any noise you make in that unit is going to be heard.

Oh, hey, you want to reiterate that point one more time, Champion Castell, or can I just do my frickin’ job up here?

I rolled my eyes and bit my tongue, both physically and mentally. She was right—my warning was unnecessary. I just wasn’t used to this. There were so many moving parts, and so many people I had never worked with before. I couldn’t help the instinct inside me that wanted to stress how important it was that no one gave away our presence before we could enact the plan.

There were several seconds of dead air, then, and I felt each one as if hours had been compressed into it, hyperaware of my breathing, my heartbeat, and the way my skin tingled like it was drawn just a quarter of an inch too tight.

Team 21 is in position and set up, Strum finally said, and I exhaled. Apologies for the delay. We had to take down several laser defense grids without activating the monitor station’s internal security.

I gritted my teeth together. Laser defense grids hadn’t been mentioned at the meeting, but given that Strum had already deactivated them, I supposed it was a moot point. Likely, he had known about them to begin with, which was why he had been very particular about what group went where during our planning session.

Ready to activate on Command’s orders, he finished.

Show off, Lacey transmitted.

More time elapsed, and I struggled to keep my breathing even. Scipio help me, if we didn’t start to move soon, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do.

Then Lacey was back. All right, we’re hooked up. Ready when you are.

I felt a finely tuned shiver of fear mixed with anticipation shoot through me, and I forced myself to remain calm, trying not to grow impatient now that the time for attack was finally upon us. I knew there were still a few steps between now and when we would push through the grate, and this was not the time to get overexcited about the prospect.

All teams, move to final egress points, Maddox said, and I took a deep, calming breath before easing forward and around the corner, trying to keep my movements spread out and slow so as not to rattle the vent too much.

In position, I reported when my face was still a foot from the grate. I slowed to a stop and leaned forward, peering out between the gaps in the slats. This opening was high off the ground, and from my vantage point, I could see the storeroom, the shelves piled with the silvery foil packets I recognized from the undoc house in the Attic. I have confirmed evidence of a legacy presence, I added.

Roger, Maddox replied. Other teams, check in.

I waited while the other teams reported in as they reached their entry points. Tension radiated through me as Maddox ordered, Masks and thermal goggles on. I pulled out the respirator mask Strum and Lacey had given me during the briefing and slipped the rubbery material over my nose and mouth, and under my chin, using my other hand to twist the hard plastic circle at the front so that it suctioned to my face. I tugged it a few times to make sure it was seated properly, and then twisted around to make sure Leo had his fitted on his face properly, as well.

He pulled at mine while I returned the favor, and we both nodded, confirming the masks were in place, before quickly donning the rose-tinted thermal goggles. I tapped the corner and my entire field of vision changed as the lenses lit up, blossoming into a white blob rimmed in red and orange to my left, where Leo was, and a dark blue and black to my left, where the vent and the room were. The goggles couldn’t penetrate walls, but the fog generated by the gas would be so thick that we’d need them in order to see anything. I tilted my head toward the vent and scanned the room to make sure it was free of people, and the lenses only reflected more blue and black. The room was cold and empty—not even a residual trail of heat.

All right, last reminder, people. Do not enter the room until the vapor cloud is obscuring your entry. We do not need them sounding the alarm because someone jumped the gun. Now, on my mark, the gas teams will blow their canisters. Starting on three.

I licked my lips and looked at the vent, mentally preparing myself for what I had to do: kick the grate out, climb down, and clear the next three rooms on our side of the hall, securing any legacies and planting neural scramblers on them in case they had nets. We couldn’t afford for them to call anyone. Another team would be working opposite us, so it was important to keep an eye out for them, and not attack them in the process.

Three. Two. One. Mark.

My muscles screamed at me to move, but I held back, knowing that it wasn’t time yet. Instead, I focused on the breeze that was increasing behind me, and the voices reporting in my ear.

Air flow has increased by 50 percent, Lacey reported. Canisters are mixing. Expect vapor cloud soon.

Sure enough, a white smoke began flooding the room from the vent above, the thermal goggles reflecting the edges and contours of the vapor cloud as it streamed through the slats. It plumed outward, immediately drawn to our vent. I pressed on the slats before it got to us, sealing them up so none of the vapor could get in, and then held up my hand, counting down from five.

Leo’s hand brushed my shin in acknowledgement as I hit three, and then, two heartbeats later, my shoulder was pressed against the duct covering and I was shoving. Hard. It popped off on one side first, and a quick push with the palm of my hand on the other side sent it clattering across the small room. I heard it hit something before smacking into the ground, and it must’ve knocked a few of the MREs off, because they hit the floor with a fluttery metallic sound that I knew from experience.

I was already pushing my way through before they stopped falling, slipping my torso out and planting a hand on a shelf, which showed on my display as a dark outline against the blue. Using it as a brace, I continued to pull myself until my butt was on the shelf and my legs were free. I quickly reached across the narrow aisle for the opposite shelf, to give myself some leverage, and then dropped to the floor and headed for the door.

Leo dropped lightly onto his feet behind me, and within moments I was pressed in the corner, my hand hovering over the control pad, baton in my other hand. Team 2 at door leading into the hallway, I reported, trying not to let my nervousness come through. Entering now.

Copy that, Maddox replied.

I hit the button, and the door slid up. The vapor, which showed up almost as an afterimage behind the thermal display, poured through the open portal like a wall being shoved through, holding its shape for several seconds before starting to disperse. I supposed it was beautiful, but I was focused on finding any thermal signatures beyond it.

There were none, and I held back as Leo stepped through first. I counted off a beat so he could clear the space, then slipped through the door after him, using the cloud for cover.

A wash of red caught my eye in the hallway, and I angled down toward it and found my first legacy—a male—lying on the floor. Relief poured through me when I saw him there, as it meant the gas was working. Our plan really did stand a chance.

One down in the hall, I reported, moving toward him, my hand on the restraints on my belt. I pulled them free and knelt down next to him. Taking his hands in my own, I quickly placed them behind his back, connected the two ends of the restraints around his wrists, then produced a scrambler and fitted it on the back of his neck. Secured, I transmitted.

Then I turned back toward Leo’s heat signature, pausing when I saw two other figures on the opposite end of the hall. The darkened areas over their mouths, noses, and eyes told me they were Team 11—the team that would clear the rooms on the opposite side of the hall—and I quickly dismissed them and turned toward where Leo was waiting by the first door we needed to clear.

I rapidly approached it and took the opposite side of the doorway. He gave me a nod as I swung into position, and I took a deep breath, and then hit the button. It slid up, the gap in the door revealing not one but five red blobs. My heart thumped in my chest as soon as I saw them, expecting movement or an attack, but it never came. All of them were asleep—three in hammocks strung across the room, two splayed out on crude mats on the floor, in conditions that echoed the house we had discovered in the Attic. I hesitated long enough to make sure no one was moving too much, and then set to work gathering them up, tying their hands together, and placing their neural scramblers, before transmitting an update to Maddox.

Leo helped, and in under a minute we were out and moving to the next door. The fog in the hall was going to start dissipating any second, as soon as the canisters were spent, and then we would only have two minutes to restrain them before they started to wake up. I put a little speed in my step, wanting to make sure that we didn’t miss opening any door, in case not all of the gas had encompassed the room while it was being piped through the vents.

I hit the button for the next door as soon as Leo signaled he was ready, this time prepared for the shot of red that appeared in the gap that formed as it opened. It was the outline of a hand against the floor, and it soon became an arm, shoulder, torso, and head of a human being, lying outstretched, as if she had been racing for the door when the gas overtook her.

I scanned the room and found six more thermal signatures with the goggles, all of them still in their sleeping positions. I wondered why the girl had been the only one to notice, but it didn’t matter, because she was out. Leo and I quickly tied them up, transmitting another status update in the process, and then proceeded to the last and final door.

Maybe it was because every door thus far had been relatively benign in terms of danger, or maybe it was because we’d had two rooms filled with sedated people, but when the third door opened and revealed a woman, alert and crouching over one of her fallen comrades, I froze for a second, surprised to see anyone awake.

She glanced up at us long enough for me to see the black circle around her mouth, which indicated a mask, and then quickly turned back to her comrade. She had cut open his neck to pull out his net, and my eyes widened when I realized that she hadn’t been able to call anyone—because she didn’t have a net of her own. The mask was a mystery, but maybe she had just happened to have one on hand, recognized what was going on, and got to it before she was affected? It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that I stopped her from making any transmission. I sprang into motion, stepping through the door and pressing the button on my baton to charge it.

She shot to her feet and darted away, lifting her hands to the back of her neck, where a small white line in her skin shone brightly against the red glow of her body in the goggles, indicating that she was already bleeding—and was now trying to shove the net in. It was a smart move; she knew that they were under attack, and was trying to reach her people to warn them. It was damned lucky that she didn’t seem to have a net of her own, and hadn’t been able to net anyone else yet, and I quickly closed the distance between the two of us, my grip tightening.

She finally whirled around to face me, her fingers moving away from the cut on her neck, and I could hear a muffled intake of breath that told me she was getting ready to speak. I swung my baton low, hoping to catch her in the mist, and she leapt back with a muffled, “No!” that was tinged with panic and fear. I could only imagine what she was thinking, but it didn’t matter—I had to stop her.

I stepped closer, ducking under a wild haymaker, and brought the baton down on her shoulder. She froze for several seconds, the thermal display in my goggles showing me that her eyes were wide open in surprise as the electrical current locked her in place. I held it for a space of three seconds and then pulled it away, and she dropped to the ground. A quick check of the room told me the other three occupants were fast asleep, although two of them had masks of their own over their mouths that I quickly pulled off. Neither one of them had moved from their hammocks, which told me the girl had put those masks on them, to try to get her comrades up, before donning one of her own. Leo was already quickly pulling them off, but it didn’t appear they had worked.

Not in time, at least.

Five more in room three, I reported. All secured.

Then that’s it, Maddox replied, and I blinked, surprised. That’s fifty-five people in total.

What about the women? I asked. Any sign of them?

Negative, Maddox said, and I could feel her ire through the line. There’s no sign they were ever here. Wherever they are being kept, it has to be somewhere else. There was a pause, one that I filled with a silent prayer that we would be able to get their location from one of the legacies when we questioned them, and then she said, Everyone, begin removing nets now, while secondary teams come in to move prisoners to the Citadel. Masks remain on until we get the all-clear from Team 20.

I swallowed and got to work, but I couldn’t shake the sensation that this felt way too easy. I knew it was stupid—it was just as possible that everything had gone according to plan, for once. Maybe I just wasn’t accustomed to victory.

We had a good plan and the element of surprise, I told myself as I knelt down to begin collecting the nets. It worked because we had enough people to make it work. Calm down. You still have a bajillion more arrests to make today, so freaking out now is not going to help.

The words offered little comfort, even with the fruit of our success lying on the ground in front of us. Somehow, I just hadn’t expected it to be this easy.

Then again, how could it be easy when we still had to collect Dreyfuss, Salvatore, and the spies embedded in the other departments? Plus Sadie and Plancett?