The recruits were in the small briefing room at eleven and James stopped outside the glass on his way past, because the door was open and because he could hear Ronan.
There were five of them round the table and they had come off Floor 12 the previous afternoon. The floor was cleared — the record was on the screen behind Cillian and it said cleared — and nobody in that room looked pleased about anything.
There was a helmet on the table with a piece missing out of the side of it and a shield beside it that was going to be scrapped.
"Forty-one minutes," Ronan was saying. He had the expedition log on a tablet and was not reading it. "Twelve's a forty-minute floor for a party your size and it took you an hour and fifty-two. Where did it go?"
Nobody answered.
"Here." He put a still up. "That's minute nineteen. Where's your four?"
"...He's forward."
