Salvar looked at the security guard and exhaled quietly through his nose.
He couldn't argue.
If he pushed it, they would remove him from the building entirely, and then saving the man currently being photographed by a sniper's advance team would become someone else's problem specifically, no one's problem, because no one else knew.
He turned and walked back toward the reception desk and opened his sunglass.
The receptionist looked up as he approached, her smile precise and professional. "How may I help you, sir?"
"Is there any room available?" Salvar asked, tapping the counter once, his own smile sitting behind his mask as he kept his voice as close to casual as he could manage given that every second he stood here was a second he didn't have.
She turned to her computer and began typing.
Slowly.
With tremendous, almost artistic deliberateness.
