(Third Person).
Brackham and his head of security descended into the underground lot in silence, his jaw tight the whole way down.
The elevator doors slid open, and before his shoes had even touched the concrete, three black jeeps rolled forward.
The convoy stopped sharply, headlights cutting through the dimly lit space. Security men in dark suits climbed out at once, moving with precision.
One of them opened the rear door of the second jeep, bowing his head slightly. Brackham got in, his chief of security following closely behind. The doors slammed shut.
The three jeeps moved together, engines humming, through the restricted underground passage.
In barely three minutes, they reached the checkpoint. Another set of guards saluted stiffly as the vehicles halted.
Brackham stepped out without a word, coat swaying with his stride, and headed for the elevator ahead. His head of security pressed the final clearance key. Two floors deeper.
