"Living the peaceful life of a panhandler somewhere in the Loop, probably. Living and life being key, there," It did occur to Harry, now and again, how much simpler things would be without the near-monthly threats to his life. Then again, after a while 'simple' started being filed in his mind in the same grouping as higher education and relationships; wonderful, nigh-mythical things that tended to go to other people. As shown by Thomas' far-too-accurate observations about the strategic advantage of Justine being kept in the upper levels; storming the castle, indeed.
The elevator was one of those fancy, express jobs, and they were whisked to the top floor before a decent retort made its way through Harry's strategic planning. The first stop was the penthouse, and Harry was almost surprised when Mouse lurched towards the door with an affirmative 'whuff'. Then again, it made sense, considering the hedonistic tendencies of the White Court, and the sort of people they associated with. Harry drew his blasting rod out of his pocket and followed the determined canine down the hall towards the door, stopping off to the side as he gathered his will and waited for Thomas to handle the introductions. He at least hoped that they would be less likely to outright kill one of their own, if this was indeed some sort of trap.