Teller peered into the room through the skinny, vertical window in the door. Ross was calm, but Teller could see that he was getting confused. And nervous.

Bad things happened when Ross got nervous. That’s how they had lost Groves.

Teller shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Breucker was late.

Gold must be taking longer than usual. Gold was always the most difficult. Teller still couldn’t believe they had given it to Fermi. Fermi belonged on Steel. Steel was almost impossible to mess up.

Teller looked at his silver watch. Where is he?

His spine began to tingle. He looked up, and there was Breucker, adjusting the hands on his own watch.

“Things going well in Gold?”

Breucker seemed preoccupied. “Ja, ja. Very well.”

“Steel?”

Breucker said nothing.

“Well?”

Breucker’s eyes flashed with savage intensity. “Gold and Steel are not your concern, Mr. Teller. I strongly suggest you focus on your own path.”

“Of course. My apologies, sir.”

Breucker grunted and stormed into the room.