He walked down the side of the warehouse, trying to keep out of the waterfall that ran the length of the building that fell from the sloped roof. He searched for a side entrance in the dark, just to be doubly sure nobody saw him enter this particular building. Of course, trying to be subtle while weighed down in heavy armour was like trying to sing opera with lung cancer, but Handy was long practiced with the familiar weight. He took off his helmet, and his head was immediately drenched. He placed a hand over his forehead and looked around. The alley was empty. He went for the side door and found it locked.