“The doorman’s wearing a gun in a shoulder rig,” Linda said. “There was one camera covering the front door.”

Juan stopped dead in the street, disregarding the rain. “That’s all you saw?” His tone was both mocking and disappointed.

“What? What did you see?”

“Okay first, the gun under his shoulder was obvious. His suit was tailored to highlight it. Anyone passing by was meant to see it. It’s a deterrent. What you weren’t supposed to see—and what you didn’t—was the pistol strapped to his ankle. His pants flared like bell-bottoms to hide it, but not well enough. Guy that carries two pistols will probably have a submachine gun behind the counter. He’s definitely Ninth Brigade and not the regular doorman. Tell me about the cameras.”

“Cameras?” Linda asked. “We were in there for two seconds. Like I said, I only saw one camera, and it was covering the front door.”

Juan took a breath. He had no desire to teach a lesson in this kind of weather, but he felt that to bring Linda along to the next level he had no choice. “Okay. We were in the lobby for a tick over seven seconds. From now on, you need to be precise. You observed one guard and one camera. Yes?”

Linda didn’t want to reply, but she mumbled, “Yes.”

“There was a second camera inside, just above the revolving door, that covers the elevator and also the counter where the doorman sits. It looks like it was just installed. The feed wires are exposed and just sort of strung up. Dollars to doughnuts, it was put there when they brought Professor Wright to this building, and it’s monitored from the penthouse suite.”

“How did you see it?”

“Reflection off the mirror next to the elevator doors.”

Linda shook her head. “When I saw the mirror, the only thing I saw was us. Well, me, actually.”

“Human nature,” Juan replied. “First thing people always look in a mirror or in a photograph for is themselves. It’s simple vanity.”

“So what do we do now? Check the back service door?”

“No, it’ll have cameras, too. We can get away with the tipsy, lost couple once, not twice. If they saw us again, they’d call the police, or just take us into custody themselves.”

“We’re going with Mark’s idea?”

“Sledgehammer it is.” They found a vestibule a few doors down that sheltered them from the rain. The street was so quiet that they’d spot an approaching police car long before they could be seen. Juan raised Linc on the tactical radio. “We’re a go. How are you guys doing?”

“Mark’s out on the street and already has a car hot-wired,” Lincoln reported. “I’ve found what we need and am just waiting for the word from you.”

“Mount up. About how long to get here?”