The Cam Latch

I step clear of the charging brick. The night's heat has kept my knee actuators fluid. Two paces along the perimeter, the desk ledge borders the broad wooden windowsill. I transfer my weight across the gap. Set into the lower sash sits a heavy brass cam latch. I hook my gauntlets around the contoured lever and apply steady torque. The rotational pin yields with a dry mechanical scrape. Solid metal. Smooth sweep. Through the glass, the vertical drop opens to a concrete walkway and distant roadway movement. The interior perimeter is contained. The exterior sector demands reconnaissance.