The jet landed at another private airport on the edge of town, and a limo stood waiting to drive us into the city. Once inside I leaned back against the cold leather seat and crossed my legs, deliberately not looking out the tinted windows. I was resolved to appear as cool as possible, and not like a gawking, starstruck tourist who had never seen the glamour of Las Vegas.

I nearly broke that resolve when the limo pulled up in front of the biggest hotel I’d ever seen in my life. It soared above us, blazing with millions of lights, so bright you could barely see the sky overhead. Inside, it was even more difficult not to gape at the enormous foyer tiled in gold and black, ringed with silver-threaded onyx columns, a marble fountain in the center of the opulence. A retinue of well-dressed humans greeted us in the glittering foyer, with instructions that “Mr. R.” was waiting for us, and to please follow them.

We did, trailing the escorts across a crowded casino full of flashing lights, bells and, of course, people. The place was enormous. The gold tile we walked on reflected the millions of lights, and the whole casino had an air of fantasy and surrealism, where time didn’t exist and you could lose hours, or even days, without knowing it. Humans sat at tables with columns of colored chips, or fed bills into the rows of flashing machines that lined every aisle. Everything screamed wealth, riches, luxury, and for a moment, I felt a glimmer of envy through the fascination.

I wanted this.

The humans led us to the elevator bay, escorted us into a box and bowed as the doors slid shut. They did not, I noticed, press any buttons, and neither did Mr. Roth or Mr. Smith. But, after a moment, the elevator shuddered and started to move. Down.

It continued down for a long, long time. No one spoke, and I concentrated on remaining still and keeping the calm, serene expression on my face. When the elevator finally stopped and the doors opened, I saw a short cement corridor, a lone florescent light and a single door at the end of the hall.

I caught Mr. Smith’s eye as we stepped out of the elevator. His gaze was a warning, cold and ominous. This was it, I realized. The moment where all my training, everything I’d learned about Talon and its inner circle, came together. It was either sink or swim, impress or disappoint. Through that door, my future with Talon hung in the balance.

I met my trainer’s stare and gave a short nod. I was ready. Today was the day I started making a name for myself. Mr. Smith watched me a moment longer, then turned away, following Mr. Roth toward the end of the hall.