Nia pulled open the narrow service door behind the green room pantry, revealing a dimly lit concrete stairwell that hummed with the vibration of the hotel HVAC units."Down one flight," she whispered, her hand trembling on the metal handrail. "The service landing opens directly behind the banquet kitchens."I followed her down the concrete steps, keeping my back to the wall. My left eye throbbed with a dull, thumping pressure, but the sharp retinal pain from using the static vision had finally settled. In my right hand, the nine millimeter handgun felt light, its weight a reminder that I had exactly one round left in the chamber.We reached the second floor landing. The heavy fire door was propped open two inches with a wooden wedge, allowing the smell of roasted meats, hot oil, and fresh pastry to spill into the stairwell.Through the narrow glass slit in the door frame, the kitchen was a frenzy of activity. Dozens of line cooks, prep staff, and waiters in white jackets moved between