"God, no," she says with a laugh. "The footage is transferring elsewhere, it's already been stored. Messing with the cameras would leave a trail, too. They'd know someone was down here and trying to cover their tracks. With my way, we won't leave a trace." She holds the door for him and then trots energetically down the stairwell. "Just trust me."

A few flights down, they reach a door with another keypad on it. Iman clicks her tongue and peers inside the little window. There's only one operative inside right now, and he's got a headset on, distracted, in communication with others. All right, they can risk it.

She places her hand over the keypad and performs the same trick as before, rewriting the code, preprogramming it to reset. She opens the door as slowly and quietly as possible, aiming not to draw attention. The guard does glance over, but his confusion is even briefer than the scientists upstairs - he turns back to his wall of monitors in a second, shaking the moment off.

Iman shakes her head, holding the door again for Rashad. "Don't touch anything," she tells him. She approaches the monitors, taking a moment to glance at each screen. There's so much to this place. Labs, archives, computer banks, training facilities, areas the purpose of which she can't even guess at - and a whole bunch of what look like prison cells.

"Take it in," she says to Rashad, gesturing around at it all. "These are the people you work for. Up there at the proverbial tip of the iceberg."