The guard's been pretty well trained; he manages to put a bullet in his second attacker, quite accurately, before losing his gun and the use of his hands.

Shame the bullet's not going to do any good at all.

Behind Wells, the Slayers on point are trying the doors, and finding them locked. A brief exchange of glances, and two perfectly synchronized kicks splinter the locks and doorframes.

There's no alarm, any more than there was any answer to the hapless guard's walkie-talkie. Mac's done her work.