Shae arched an eyebrow at her response, trying to calm his growing frustration. Sheer force obviously wasn't going to get that door open, so maybe a little ingenuity would.
He passed the Tupperware back to her as he fished around in his back pocket with no luck, fingers then moving up and around to the front of his sleek utility belt to dig at a small compartment from which he drew a credit card. He waved the card at her and grinned.
"See if 'dis wohks." Then he was crouching in front of the stubborn lock, trying to wedge the sliver of plastic into the tiny space and trip some sort of mechanism that had obviously been unengaged. When several minutes of wriggling (accompanied by some very ungentlemanly cursing) still yielded no result, he sighed and tucked the card back into place.
"Sorry 'bout dis, ma cher," he said with more than a little irritation. "Gotta kit in mah car dat oughta do da trick. Hol' on jes' a minute."