She nodded toward a door, reached under her desk and a buzzer sounded. He let himself in to a small lobby where two swarthy, bulky men lounged on a ratty vinyl couch that had been repaired with duct tape. They looked up at him with barely a ficker of interest. Each wore a leather jacket and had a nine-millimeter Glock semi-automatic pistol parked in front of him on a battered table.
