The staff corridor was narrow and dark and smelled like disinfectant that had long since stopped doing anything useful and Maya moved through it like she had been here before which she hadn't but she read buildings the way other people read faces and the layout was talking to her in a language she understood.
Michael kept the pulse running and reported position updates to the squad tracking their surroundings in real time.
The three lobby signatures were behind them now, still in the main space, undisturbed. The building beyond the corridor was a different story.
The pulse painted a picture he wasn't entirely comfortable with, signatures on multiple floors, some stationary, some moving in the slow directionless patterns he knew and some moving in ways he didn't recognise yet which was the part that sat uneasily in the back of his mind.
"Left here," Maya said quietly at a junction, not hesitating.
He followed her left.
