When the sun had barely kissed the horizon, Sera and the others geared up without speaking.
Rope. Shades. Knives.
The same order as the day before and the day before that.
Zubair checked buckles and gloves, tugged a line here, corrected a knot there. Elias passed the smoked-plastic eye shields down the line. Lachlan rolled his shoulders like a boxer before a bell. Alexei smiled at nothing and slid his blade along his spine where it belonged. Sera took what was handed to her and stood in the middle of them because that was where he put her.
Window up. Cold in. People out.
Zubair touched down first and listened with his entire body.
The ice complained once before it quietly settled down. He moved off the drop zone, pressing his hand flat to the wall more out of habit than necessity, then lifted his chin.
"Fan out," he grunted, never once looking behind him to see if the rest were obeying.
He knew without a doubt that they would.
And they did.
