It was the damned elevator that got him in trouble. Just as he'd known it would on the first damn day.

Not because he was fool enough to ride it, oh no. He got caught in the open because it held something for him, another gleaming canister, winking playfully at him from between the doors. A siren call.

Thinking of Max, of the already increasingly wrinkled photo (in and out, in and out, folded and refolded, his hands on it again and again) tucked away in his bag, he went for it. Even though he hadn't secured the area.

Hadn't checked to make sure he was alone.