They parked the Rover at the dark side of the Drew construction site and loaded up with all their gear. Max’s head was clear as they donned ski masks and started toward the unfinished tower.

He’d spent the first ten minutes of the drive into the city thinking about Abby before he’d forced himself to leave her behind. It was new to him, going into battle with something to lose. In Afghanistan he’d been known as dangerous, even reckless. He’d taken no pride in the reputation, knowing it was a result of his utter solitude, his lack of parents and siblings, no woman waiting for him, no one who cared if he lived or died except Abby, his best friend, who would surely be just fine — especially with Jason Draper to look after her — whatever happened to him.

He remembered his brothers-in-arms, their talk of compartmentalizing when they went into battle, of not allowing themselves to think of their wives and kids back home, of struggling to readjust to intimacy when they came back from a tour.

Max had no concerns about that part. He wanted nothing more than to live out his life in peace with Abby, would happily spill his guts to her every night of the week in exchange for the privilege of growing old with her.

It was making it through tonight that was the challenge.

“It’s quiet,” Carlos commented as they made their way through the abandoned construction site.

“And creepy as hell,” Farrell muttered.

“Speaking of creepy,” Max said, “this mask itches like a son of a bitch.”

Someone chuckled, but Max couldn’t tell who it was behind the mask’s tightly-knitted fabric.

They’d timed their path through the site according to recon Locke had done on the patrol schedule of the two guards, and they silently picked their way through the abandoned equipment and materials by the residual glow of the Strip.

Locke kept an eye on the clock along the way, making sure they didn’t stumble onto the guard’s routes or fall behind enough that the guards stumbled on theirs.

Fifteen minutes after leaving the car, they entered the ground floor of the unfinished skyscraper.

The ceilings were open, the towering structure rising far above their heads. Its beams were visible when Max looked up, but the bones disappeared into the dark somewhere above the second floor. They were cocooned in the eerie isolation of the abandoned structure, the sounds of the city muffled beyond its half completed walls.

“Construction elevator’s back here,” Locke said quietly.

His obvious excitement while they’d staged had done nothing for Max’s confidence in him, but now that they were here, Locke’s demeanor was serious. There was an attentiveness behind his eyes that made it clear he saw everything, catalogued everything. It was obvious that while he’d had fun setting the whole thing up, and no doubt would still get off on the danger of it all, he understood what was at stake now that the mission was in motion.

They came to the construction elevator, a surprisingly small cage attached to iron scaffolding that stretched upward as far as Max’s eyes could see. It had been bright orange once, but the paint was peeling now, revealing patches of rusted metal.

“Looks too small for all of us,” Farrell said.

Locke stepped into the cage. “It’s not.”

“If you say so.” Farrell followed him with Nico, Max and Carlos on his heels.

Locke shut the door. “Here we go.”

He pressed a button inside the cage and the contraption shuddered to life with an ear-shattering clang.

“Bloody hell,” Farrell said as they creaked upward. “We’re going to be made by the rent-a-cops before we get to the second floor.”

Locke grinned. “It sounds louder than it is, and this place is twenty-five acres. Trust me, this isn’t going to make a dent in the sound of the Strip.”

As they climbed higher, the city came into view beyond the metal safety bars of the construction elevator. It was a world so far beyond the one Max now occupied that they might as well have been looking at Earth from the moon.

Down there, people were walking the Strip, watching the fountain show outside the Bellagio, getting drunk and sampling the city’s casinos and strip clubs. Max wondered if he would ever be one of them again, then decided he wouldn’t.

Too much had happened.

The city grew smaller beneath them, the air colder as they climbed upward. Max was beginning to think the ride would never end when it clanged to a halt at the top of the tower.

Locke opened the cage door and they stepped out onto the roof.

“Follow my footsteps,” Locke instructed. “Foundation’s mostly in place but no sense taking chances.”

They made their way across the roof, choosing their steps carefully behind Locke, until they came to the edge of the building that faced the Tangier.

Max looked down at it — at the glittering dome that was its trademark, the tower that held thousands of people who didn’t know who and what Jason was, the top floor where right now Jason thought his money and power kept him safe — and felt a surge of pure hatred.

The casino was an altar to Jason’s ego. Nothing more.

An altar to his corrupted, twisted soul.

Locke removed his pack and bent down to unzip it. When he straightened he was holding a small drone.

“You sure this is going to work?” Farrell asked.

“I’m sure.”

“I don’t trust anything I can’t control with my own hands.”

“You mean anything you can’t beat to a pulp with your own hands,” Locke said.

“That too.”

“You can control this with your hands.” Locke removed the remote, complete with a small screen. “It just takes a little practice, a little finesse.”

“Finesse isn’t my strong suit,” Farrell said.

“You don’t say.”

Locke set the drone on the edge of the roof and straightened as he turned on the remote. They waited while he synched the drone with the remote, and a moment later, the drone fluttered to life, lifting upward with hardly a sound.

“Go get it baby,” Locke murmured, working the remote.

The drone disappeared into the darkness over their heads.

Max edged closer to Locke, watching on the screen as the city’s light pulsed below. It took less than a minute for the roof of the Tangier to come into view.

“Easy now…” Locke worked the joystick on the remote, moving the drone into a position only he understood.

“You sure you’ll be able to get close enough?” Carlos asked.

Locke’s eyes were glued to the screen as he maneuvered the drone. “I outfitted the drone with a pretty strong magnet. As long as I can get it within a foot of the carabiner, it should grab hold.”

Max had no idea how Locke had managed to get the zip-line connected to the Tangier, but according to him, it was there, one end securely attached to the roof, the other waiting to be ferried across the empty space between the two buildings.

“There you are, beautiful,” Locke said when the dangling carabiner came into sight on the screen.

Max watched as the metal piece became bigger, the drone growing closer to it as Locke slowed it down, taking advantage of its ability to hover as he moved it into place.

“Almost… there…” He exhaled. "There it is.”

Max had to look closely at the grainy image on the remote to see that Locke was right, the drone was pulling the line across the space between the two buildings, proof that the carabiner had locked onto its magnet.

Max saw the Drew’s roof come into view on the screen before he spotted the drone itself. He was almost surprised when it hovered above them, then dropped to a gentle landing on the roof next to Locke’s feet.

The end of the cable was attached, the magnet holding onto the carabiner.

“Jackpot,” Locke said, bending to pick up the drone. He disconnected the cable and set down the drone. “I’ll connect the cable and we’ll be good to go.”

He walked a few feet to the corner of the roof, then flattened himself onto his stomach, his head hanging over the side. Max wasn’t afraid of heights, but he was still taken aback by the casualness with which Locke dangled his head sixty-eight stories over the asphalt below.

How he’d gotten the connector in place on the Drew’s side was less of a mystery than the connection on the roof of the Tangier. Max assumed he’d planted it sometime in the last couple days using the same path to the roof they’d just traversed.

Locke spent a couple minutes adjusting the cable, reaching into the bag next to him now and then for tools to adjust the tension on the line. A few minutes later, he jumped to his feet and brushed off his gloved hands.

“Let’s get the comms equipment online,” Nico said.

He reached into his pack and handed out the small earpieces and mics that would act as their communication system once they were inside the Tangier. They did a quick test to make sure everything worked, and Locke started for the corner of the roof.

“Now for the fun part.” He reached into his bag and removed a handful of nylon that Max knew were harnesses for the line.

“How do we know it’s secure?” Carlos asked.

Locke grinned. “Because I’m going first.” He handed them each a harness. “Put these on now, while I’m here to make sure they’re attached right.”

They watched him put on his harness and mimicked his movements, stepping into the leg holes, buckling the waist strap. When they were done, he stopped in front of each of them, testing the buckles and straps.

“Looks good.” He sat on the edge of the roof. “You’re going to have to get down to see how the harness attaches to the line since I won’t be here to hook on for you.”

“What if we make a mistake?” Max said.

Locke shrugged. “I can go last if you want, but then one of you will have to be the first one over.”

“No, thanks,” Farrell said, getting down on his stomach.

Nico, Carlos, and Max followed suit, watching as Locke slid off the roof, landing lightly on a one foot ledge below.

Max dared a look down and felt the world tilt. He refocused his eyes on Locke as he clipped a nylon strap attached to his harness to the zip-line, explaining as he went how to make sure it was secure, how to keep themselves upright as they zipped over the chasm below, how to slow their approach when they got close to the Tangier.

It was easier than Max would have thought to propel yourself hundreds of feet above the ground with only a few straps of nylon and a length of aircraft wire.

“You guys got it?” Locke asked without looking at them.

“We’ve got it,” Nico said.

“Then yippee-kai-yay, motherfuckers.”

He let go all at once and immediately flew away from them, the sound of the trolley wheels receding as he got smaller. They were on the dark side of the Drew — the side off the Strip — but the lights from the city still made it possible for them to track Locke’s figure until he got about halfway between the two hotels.

When he disappeared into the darkness, Max jumped to his feet and pulled the binoculars from his pack.

Locke appeared in the lenses, scrambling up to the roof of the Tangier from a ledge similar to the one he’d used to launch himself from the Drew. He turned and gave a thumbs up, grinning like a fucking idiot.

“He’s good,” Max said. “I’ll go next.”

He sat on the edge of the roof before he had time to think too hard about what he was doing. The ledge felt wider than it had looked from above — not roomy by any means, but he didn’t have the sense that he was in danger of toppling off it.

He held onto the line with one hand and reached up with the strap in his other. Locke had left four cable trolleys behind to avoid having to send one back and forth, and Max clipped onto the next one in line, tugging to make sure it was secure.

“Ready?” Nico asked from the roof.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Max positioned his hands the way Locke had shown them. “See you on the other side.”

He kicked off the roof.