“What do you mean?”

“I mean, here. As in”—Jack rapped on the roof of the car—”here.”

“All right! We’ll make a hacker out of you yet.”

“Don’t hold your breath, my man. Just get me off this thing.”

“Okay. Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll stop her at six, then Instep her halfway to seven. You won’t need your hook, just pull the safety lever and the outer doors will open. You just step off and wait for me to join you.”

Jack followed the directions to the letter and less than a minute later, accompanied by the jarring strains of the emergency stop bell, he was stepping through the doors onto the seventh floor. His relief was tempered by the two carpenters on coffee break from the renovation work.

“Hey, Mac,” said the heavier of the two, staring at him. “Where the hell did you just come from?”

“Why, the elevator,” Jack said.

“No, you didn’t.” He stepped closer, his gaze flicking between Jack and the elevator doors. “I was standin’ right there watching those doors, and I’m telling you there was no elevator there when you came out. You walkin’ on fucking air or somethin’?”

Jack wanted to say, What’s it to you? But he smiled and kept his tone light.

“Don’t be silly. That elevator’s acting very strange. The lights went off and the bell started ringing, so I got out.”

The elevator dinged behind him and the doors opened. Milkdud stepped out.

“There,” Jack said. “Does he look like he’s walking on air?”

“No, he don’t,” the carpenter said. “But I can see the elevator in there.”

“Well, the lights must have come back on.” He turned to Milkdud. “Did the lights come back on?”

Dud didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, just after you got off. That thing’s acting weird.” He pressed the down button on the wall panel. “I’m going to take another one down.”

“Good idea.”

The center car arrived soon after, and they stepped into the empty cab.

“They saw me stepping out of an empty shaft,” Jack said when the doors had closed behind them.

“That’s always a risk.” Dud handed him a tissue. “Here. Wipe off your hands. They’re dusty.”

“What’s waiting for us below?” Jack said, wiping.

“They’ve got security guys at both doors, trying to look inconspicuous but giving everyone the once-over. But they’re looking for a dusty guy, not the man in the gray flannel suit. We’ll be okay.”

And they were. They sailed past the guards and onto Forty-fifth Street.

“Thanks, Dud,” Jack said when they reached Sixth Avenue. “I owe you, man. Big time. You ever need a favor…”

“Forget it,” Dud said, smiling. “See one, do one, teach one: all part of the code. I just want to know if I made a convert.”

“I don’t think so.”