Nightrise

left and right with the words nightrise corporation in raised, silver letters. There was a floor-to-ceiling window at one end, looking across to the building opposite, and a pair of modern, glass doors at the other. He could see a reception desk and two women in smart suits, wearing headphones and throat mikes.
    "Good morning. Nightrise Corporation. How may I help you?"
    "Good morning. Nightrise Corporation. How may I direct your call?"
    A second set of elevators doors opened and a FedEx deliveryman stepped out, holding a parcel. Jamie waited while he went ahead, through the glass doors. The package would have to be signed for. That was good. It would distract their attention. That would give him his chance.
    One of the women was talking on the phone. The other was dealing with the delivery. Now. Quickly, Jamie passed through the glass doors, walking as if it was his right, as if he had visited the building a dozen times before. He found himself in a carpeted area with leather seats and a water-cooler. There were pictures on the wall — modern art. A wide, glass door stood on each side, leading to corridors and more offices. Which way? He had to make an immediate decision. If he hesitated, he would be noticed.
    And then he would be stopped.
    He turned right and went through the door, expecting at any moment to hear one of the receptionists call out after him. But they hadn't seen him. Now it would be easier. He was inside. Anyone seeing him would assume that he had been allowed through.
    But where was he to begin? Jamie glanced at his watch again. Everything depended on exact timing and somehow another two minutes had gone by. That just left him five minutes to find Colton Banes. He looked around. The forty-fifth floor had been expensively decorated in different shades of blue with more paintings between the doors.
    On the left-hand side of the corridor, all the outer rooms, the ones with a view, had been given over to senior executives and their assistants. Their names and the office numbers were printed in small letters beside each entrance. On the other side, the central part of the office was open plan. Jamie could see a maze of desks divided by partitions. There were perhaps twenty or thirty men and women, most of them young, bent over computer screens or talking on the phone. The carpets were thick and seemed to absorb any sound. Was that how business was done here? With the same hush as a laboratory…or perhaps a church.
    He came to an open door and looked inside. There was a photocopying machine and a young man in jeans and an open-neck shirt, only five or six years older than Jamie, sorting through a stack of documents. Jamie was about to move on but the young man suddenly looked up.
    'You okay?" the young man asked.
    "Sure."
    'You looking for someone?"
    'Yeah…"Jamie lifted the envelope, showing the name on the front. "I've got to give this to a Colton Banes."
    "Banes? Do you know his department?"
    "No. It doesn't say."
    "Well, let's take a look…" The young man went over to a table and picked up a plastic ring binder. He flicked through it. "Banes…" he muttered. He turned a page. "Here he is. You're on the wrong floor.

    He's up on forty-nine…room forty-nine twenty-five. Must be a big shot! That's the way it is here. The bigger you are, the higher you go."
    "Thanks." Jamie backed out the door.
    He thought he would have to go back to the elevator but as he came out of the photocopying room, he noticed a sign: fire exit
    . Of course, in the event of a fire, the elevators would shut down. There had to be stairs.
    He continued down the corridor. A woman holding a bundle of files hurried past him but nobody stopped him. Nobody even looked in his direction. He came to the fire exit, pushed it open, and found a flight of metal and concrete stairs on the other side. He climbed up, taking two steps at a time. He had Banes's office number, but time was running out. Alicia would make her call in just a couple of minutes.
    And all of this was easy compared to what had to happen next. Jamie dreaded it even as he quickened his pace. He could feel his heart beating and knew it wasn't just the exertion of the climb.
    The forty-ninth floor was exactly the same as the one he had left, with the senior offices and conference rooms on the outside and the common pool at the center. There were more people moving between the different workstations but they were still talking in low voices as if afraid of being overheard.