“We can’t go back up,” Vance said. “My legs won’t make it.”

I looked at the platform railing.

The drop to the concrete floor was about twelve feet.

It was too high to jump without risking injury.

I checked my tactical vest.

I had one smoke canister left.

“Hold your breath when I tell you,” I said to Vance.

I pulled the pin on the canister.

I tossed it over the railing.

It bounced once and began to spew thick, gray smoke.

The cloud rose quickly, filling the space between the turbines.

“Go,” I whispered.

We scrambled down the side stairs, using the handrail for balance.

The smoke stung my eyes and throat.

I could hear the guards coughing and shouting to each other in the fog.

A burst of gunfire shattered the air.

Bullets pinged off the metal stairs, sending sparks flying.

They were firing blindly into the smoke.

I kept my gun raised as we reached the concrete floor.

A shape emerged from the gray mist to my left.

It was one of the guards, his rifle raised.

I fired twice.