A Silent Tap

Quiet now. The room was still, but my joints clicked into gear. I blinked, tested the tight little hinge in my right arm, and crept forward an inch across the rough carpet fibers. Ahead stood the thick black leg of the desk—a perfect stakeout tower. I reached out, tapped its cool metal frame with a tiny knuckle, and let out a soft chuckle. Solid. The perimeter was ours to map.