Harrison was the first across the zip line that led from the Ketchum’s roof to the Blackmoore. Racer X went next. Eddie popped the clip on his 1911 Colt .45, checked that it was loaded, and slammed it back into place. Then he went down the zip. The steel line sagged under his weight, and the metal pitons that held it in place shook. But after a few seconds of semi–free fall, he touched down safe and sound. He checked his watch. It was nine fifty-nine. He nodded to the others. Racer X gently placed his hand on a locked door on the Blackmoore Building’s roof and after a few seconds of waiting, it popped open. Inside, they pried open an elevator door and Harrison rigged more lines. With belay devices secured to their waist harnesses, they hooked onto the wires.

Fast Eddie reached into the pack Harrison wore on his back and took out two smaller packs. He wriggled his shoulders into one and handed the other to Racer X. “You understand how this works, right?” Eddie growled.

Racer X nodded. “Totally. I’m the new guy.”

“And what does the new guy do?”

“I carry the blasting caps and you carry the Semtex.”

“And what is your number-one job?”

“Not to blow my sorry ass up,” said Racer X.

“Because?”

“Because I’m a dime a dozen, but blasting caps are expensive.”

“Good boy,” said Eddie.

Harrison frowned, but didn’t let Eddie see. He looked around the big man at his little brother. “Plus, you’d piss me off,” he said.

Racer X grinned. “Me, too,” he said.

“Good,” said Eddie and shoved the kid. He disappeared into the open elevator shaft. “You go first.”

All twelve of Caleximus’s worshippers were crammed together like a cargo of sullen plush toys in the construction company’s cargo van. Steve was at the wheel. He turned off Figueroa just before Fifth Street and parked at the Ketchum Insurance Tower’s loading dock. Jorge checked his watch. “Ten oh five,” he said.

Steve craned his head around. No one was there. “Okay,” he said. “We’re a little early, so it’ll give everybody a chance to settle down. Lloyd should be out in fifteen minutes. Everybody know their job?”

The others nodded or murmured, “Yes.”

Steve turned around in the driver’s seat. “Come tomorrow, those Abaddonian jackasses are going to shit themselves blind.”

People laughed. Tensely.

Tommy raised his hand.

“We’re not in grade school, Tommy. Just say what you’ve got to say,” said Steve.

“Why do we all have to be here?” he said, wiggling his shoulders like he hoped a little more space might magically appear around him if he whined enough.

Steve said, “I told you why. I asked for volunteers and you all disappointed Caleximus. Therefore, I volunteered us all. Is that it?”

“No. I, uh, I’ve got to go to the bathroom.”