The schematics from the offices illustrated a parallel maze of complex networks, a string of illumintaed dots as security guards on patrol and a particular objective somewhre along the line. One quickly approached. You could almost feel the distinctual heartbeat resonate against the panelled wall. The reverberations dull and fade into the nestly shadow which kept him from view.
"You ok?"
"I'm good." He looks back to the sensor. "Normal patterns resumed."
"Someone might mistake you for some seasoned spy in a video game. Just as well they can't see you."
"Shh, if I start laughing, it'll pick up.
"Sorry."
"S'ok."
Around the corner and into a cubicle, the desk drawer held little more than a note and a photograph. What looked like a little girl perched on a swing set, with a man and lady close by, perhaps an older brother and sister. Not looking quite wrinkled enough to be parents.
"It's..."
"Yeah, I can see through your visual sensor... I didn't think they'd go so far as to..."
"I didn't either." His gaze squinted as he looked upon the photo with a pang of conscience and conscious consideration. Turning it over, is scribbled in a thin black marker pen "3112"
"Let's see what we can find on this."
"We're on it."
Sliding the drawer closed, photograph in tow, he took a moment to gaze on the roads down below, all quiet but for a black saloon parked out front with two black suited figures emerging, saluting to the interior of the lobby and -- one's gaze shifted upward, the line of sight repelling his presence from the side of the windowed wall.
"..."
"Visual?"
"..."
"X?"
"Negative. Close, though... do we know who they were?"
"I saw the same as you did, from the--"
"Visual display." smiling to himself at the completion of her sentence
"...*she smirks playfully* running through databases now. It may take a little time, however."
"Mhm. I shall proceed until we have more."
"Standing by."
The floor above was for the most part much of the same.
The floor above that, in a similar fashion, too. Aside from the unconscious guard.
"An unconscious guard?! Did you just? You know what'll happen if the Machines find *static* involvement here, right?"
"... Make him fall asleep? And yes, I know. And no, it was of his own accord. Proceeding to basement level."
"It's a shame you know."
"Oh?"
"How the more clandestine path has come to be the road less travelled. It's more fun than you'd think. That, and the uneccessery exposure and casualties. Tsk."
From the closest most strap to his waist in his cargo pants, he pulls from under it, an unassuming (what looks like a silenced pistol), takes brief aim and fires it toward the opposing wall of the elevator shaft. He unscrews the "silencer" from the pistol and detaches from it, a thin piece of black cord, attaching it to a black metal clasp on the same strap.
"We need elevator shut down in, three..."
"Security systems reset in two..."
"One."
In less than the blink of an eye, the descending metal vehicle shudders and the dim maintenance shaft lighting gives out before reaffirming its presence. As both carried on as before, a shadowed frame descended the tube with his preferred method of travel, the black cord lengthening all the while.
"Basement level reached. Nice work so far..."
"Why, thank you." He smiles.
"Update re: the suits. They would appear to be... actually we have received a ping from an officially unused House network. Message, reads... "Ecks"... and the rest of just garbled.
"Run 32 on it, Salera."
"Done. Forwarding now.
Inbox: 1 new message(s)
From: Salera
Subject: FWD: H'ullo. (Retrieved from secure internal socket.)
---
Ecks, I heary'huv come across an old friend. For all h'intents and purposes, they're the type y'might like t'havoid. Unless you like havin' an authorised contract on y'er head, that is.
"Contractors? What in..."
"I'm... I... we're running still running it through the databases, nothing yet."
"They wouldn't be. Not if they're working with--"
Another guard. This one with a duffle overcoat and pinstripe suit with sunglasses. A red and yellow blue of life in among the static blue haze, followed by the two.
"It may well have been for 'less than even a second', however I want to make sure."
"Yes, sir."
At the far end of the maintenance corridor, from the cleaner's room, opened a silvery, rounded door. What looked like an opening to a vault.
"Another message, forwarding now."
The man in the long coat, withdrawing a credit card with a blinking green dot in a visual conversation with the vault door's blinking red.
"Same format?"
"Not this time, the Executive network."
"She has been out of broadcast for..."
Inbox: 1 new message(s)
From: Bouyancy.
Subject: Wait.
---
Wait.
"What in the hell is going on here?"
