All this crouching shit reminds him of the way things used to be a couple years ago; he moves back into it like it was just yesterday. If he just follows the sounds he'll be okay. Anyone makes any moves on them, he'll kick their friggin' asses so hard they'd wish they'd never met Reno of the Turks.

He don't mind this kind of tension: it's okay. It's what keeps a guy focused under pressure, and that's got value. Without that, people die, and he has no damn intention of dying alone in the darkness.

"Right here behind you." His voice is as quiet as he can make it, and it's still strange as anything to hear someone else with his voice up ahead. Kinda spooky.