Aramis drew his gun and, at a wordless gesture from Athos, went inside.

The back entrance led into an employee lounge. Someone’s half-eaten pizza sat getting cold on the peeling linoleum table, and a vending machine hummed in the corner. Aramis moved quickly through the room, crossing it to the only other door. There, he pressed himself against the wall beside it and peered around the corner, out into a short hall lined with offices. Glancing back to his teammates, he gestured that the coast was, so far, clear.