Torin Pov
The observation deck felt like a glass coffin.
It was easily eighty degrees up here, and the ventilation system was absolute garbage, piping the suffocating humidity and the stench of chlorine directly into the cramped room. Sweat pooled beneath the leather of my cut, sticking my black t-shirt to my spine, but taking it off wasn't an option. We weren't here to relax. We were here on overwatch.
"I'm going to pass out," Grizz grunted. He yanked his leather vest off, tossing it onto a dusty plastic chair in the corner of the deck with a heavy thud. "Remind me again why the hell they couldn't just go to an air-conditioned movie theater?"
"Because the kid wanted to swim," I muttered, not looking away from the black-tinted glass. "Stop complaining and keep your eyes on the exits."
