I step into the lobby, toeing bits of glass out of my way quietly before stepping; making sure I don’t step on any of the pieces before setting the weight of my foot firmly on the linoleum. I have plenty of time so caution, stealth, and quiet is the name of the game. Edging past the fan of glass by the front door, I walk silently to the hallway, making sure not to silhouette myself against the light behind me, coming to rest against the wall to the side of the broken glass doors. Kneeling, I listen for any movement.
The complete absence of noise within is just a little disarming. There is always, well, used to be always, some type of noise within a building whether that is even the tiny sound of wind being expelled or drawn in by the air conditioning system. It is completely silent. I mark this, knowing there will not be the slightest cover to conceal any noise I might be making whether that comes from the creak of a boot bending or the soft swish of cloth rubbing. I rise slowly and enter into the hallway, again silently moving the glass from under any place my boot will set down. Once inside the hallway, with its elevator banks lining the walls to either side, I lower the night vision goggles into place and turn them on, having already donned them on my walk over to the building.
The hallway comes to life in the glow of the goggles, the description given by Lynn becoming a reality rather than pictures developed in my head. Walking to the stairwell entrance, I put my ear against the cool, steel door, listening for any hint that something awaits me on the other side. I am not a big fan of having to return here so quickly after the others, liking instead to wait until things and events have settled. I don’t know if the night runners have a memory per se but in times past, alertness among those residing in the places I have been to is substantially higher after an intrusion. It slowly returns back to the normal steady state only after time has passed.
There is nothing I can hear nor feel. I should be feeling some small vibration with my ear against the door. Again, the usual small hum and vibration of a building alive is missing. What I would do for a fiber optic viewer right now? I think reaching for the door handle. Pulling only a touch, the door slides backwards from the jamb an inch letting me know the doors are not latched. If the door was latched, then I would know for sure that the night runners were capable of operating a door handle. The question of whether they can or not still remains unanswered. I pull a touch more hearing a soft metallic sound emitting from the hinges as they rub together. Well, it isn’t like I’m going to oil them, I think pulling upward on the door handle to lessen the weight riding on the hinges.
The door slides silently open a crack. I peer in, looking from side to side and startle seeing two night runner bodies lying motionless on the stairs. I should have anticipated this, I think seeing nothing else within the line of sight that the slightly open door will allow. Slowly pulling the steel fire door open, I slip quietly inside once it is open enough to allow me to enter without rubbing any of my gear against it. Practice and keeping the fact that you have gear on in a small part of the conscious mind is important. The body knows its limits and where it ends so worming your way in somewhere without touching anything is easy if it is just you. But the body does not automatically take into account anything you might be wearing so it is easy to rub against or get caught on something if you don’t keep this awareness close.
Catching the back side of the door, I ease it closed behind me, keeping a slight amount of pressure against it as it automatically shuts. Looking around and listening, I observe that the stairwell is your pretty standard building stairwell, just as Lynn described. Concrete steps and concrete brick walls with metal rails leading up both sides of the stairs. Sound here will carry a great distance with nothing soft to absorb it. A few shell casings from yesterday’s firefight lie on the floor at my feet. I will have to be careful not to disturb or kick them as the metallic sound may alert the night runners. If they are not in here, at least the fire doors will keep most of the sound from entering into the interior but I cannot assume anything, including how sensitive or insensitive night runner hearing is.
Stepping carefully around the bodies, I start my trek. I have my M-4 pointed up covering the stairs, being able to see more and more of the next flight as I slowly move up. Taking each step one at a time, balancing my concentration between looking at each foot placement and the area up the stairs, I move slowly and quietly upward. Another night runner lies on the first intermediate landing. The tension inside builds with each step. The adrenaline begins to flow through me, heightening my senses.
I reach the second floor landing without incident. The fire doors have a metal bar running the width of the door; one of those you press on the bar to open. Looking down behind, I see a narrow gap between the metal of the fire door and the metal of the push bar. This is great, I think taking one of the long strands of 550 cord from my thigh pocket. I slide one end of the cord down into the narrow gap, watching it dangle from the other side below the push bar. Grabbing the end, I tie it around the cord going through the top making sure not to depress the bar or touch the door in any way. I uncoil the cord and do the same on the opposite door, cutting the cord off with my knife after tying the knot. The doors are now tied together effectively sealing the second floor landing from the interior, meaning that nothing can now gain access to the stairwell from the second floor. The one drawback to this plan though is that I will not be able to access the stairwell from the other side of the door. Should an unfortunate series of events occur and I need to gain entrance back to the stairwell from the interior, well, that is now no longer an option. This is a risk I am willing to take in order to have my backside clear.
I proceed upward to the third floor landing in the same fashion; alertly and quietly. Seeing the bodies on the stairs and first floor and recalling the very detailed briefing by Lynn, I expected the doors here to be blocked by the multitude of night runners they killed and that blocked the doors open. The bodies have apparently been moved as the doors here are shut. The previous day’s firefight and the intensity of it is apparent here as the concrete floor and stairs are littered with brass shell casings and empty magazines; littered to the point of not being able to walk without disturbing them. I cannot just toe them out of the way as I could the glass shards as the casings are round and will continue rolling if I move them in that manner. The last thing I want is to have one roll off of the landing and fall down the stairs. The jig would be up if that were to happen. I bend over and carefully make a path through, picking up the individual expended shells one at a time and moving them to the side; making sure each one stays in place before picking up the next.
Before long, well, long being relevant here, I have a path cleared on the landing. I tie off the doors in the same manner as the second floor being extra careful here as it is evident this floor is inhabited. Or at least was. With that finished, I pick my way through the shell casings on the stairs up to the fourth floor. My adrenals are in high gear as I carefully step upward. I pay attention to keep my breathing even in order not to facilitate the normal body reaction to stress and adrenaline; that one being the sweat glands trying to keep in tune with the adrenal glands. I do not want to render the smoke scent moot. I do feel a touch more comfortable knowing I have the rear secured as long as they don’t decide they want to take a late morning stroll through the first floor fire doors.