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Chuck opened one eye ever-so-slightly and checked his clock. 2:00 a.m. Perfect. Hopefully Casey would be asleep, but one could never be too careful. First, he slipped the laser pointer he had picked up at the Buy More the day before out from under his pillow and carefully aimed it at the pinhole camera embedded in the light fixture on his wall. The light would blind both the camera and the infrared sensor so it would look like an equipment malfunction. Then he reached under the mattress and pulled out the small digital recorder. Two nights ago he had recorded himself sleeping and then digitally looped the recording for playback. He hit the play button and the sounds of sleep filled the room.
Now, at last, he slipped out of bed. He pulled on the black pants and shirt he had left hanging over the chair at his desk, careful not to make any noise. The bed creaked slightly when he sat down to pull on his shoes and he sucked in a quick breath, sitting stock still for a few moments. Nothing for it, however, so he continued.
He slipped off his watch and gently laid in it on the counter and turned off his cell phone. It wouldn't do to have his handlers discover his whereabouts.
Before bed, he had carefully moved one of the potted flowering shrubs in the courtyard to block the camera that covered the 'Morgan Door.' It had taken a little bit of work to do it without alerting Casey, but each time he had gone to Casey's apartment he had surreptitiously memorized the feeds of the apartment complex and then used that to determine the camera locations. Now he knew each of the cameras throughout the courtyard.
He carefully and silently opened the Morgan Door and then reached back into his room for the backpack with his supplies. Reaching in the backpack, he pulled out the can of Dust-off, reached out the window and aimed it to the left. He depressed the button, feeling the can grow colder and colder as the compressed air hissed out. But the airstream, too, was colder and would blind the infra-red sensor Casey had mounted on the wall beside the bedroom window. The can grew uncomfortably cold but he gritted his teeth and waited. Finally, judging the sensor was blind, he slipped the can in the backpack and climbed out the window.
Maneuvering across the courtyard while still avoiding the line of sight of any of the cameras was tricky. After all, Casey had positioned the cameras to cover not only the entrance to the courtyard but the interior as well.
Chuck stopped and glanced around to make sure no one else was out at this late hour. Good. He was alone. Instead of heading to the wrought iron gate that led into the courtyard, however, he moved in the opposite direction. The apartment of the far end of the complex was vacant and Chuck had jimmied the lock. He slipped inside and immediately went across the empty room to the far bedroom. The window of that bedroom opened to the outside of the complex instead of into the courtyard. He gently opened the window and slipped out, making sure the window was closed behind him but not latched.
He glanced around, making sure he was not being watched. A cat wandered by and gave him a curious look, but no one else was watching. He walked over to the bushes that surrounded the complex and reached into the void behind them, drawing out Morgan's ten-speed bike. It would have been easier to take the Nerd Herder, but it had it's own GPS tracker.
He was a little nervous riding in the dark, dressed in black, but he dared not draw attention to himself. A good agent, he told himself, moves like a ghost. At least, that's what they said in Ghost Recon, the video game. Fortunately, his destination was not far. He secreted the bike behind another clump of bushes; not only to keep it from getting stolen, but if the neighbors were questioned he didn't want anyone to recall seeing the bicycle parked outside.
The front entrance to the building was brightly lit, even at this late hour, so he avoided it. Instead, he slipped around to the back of the building, to the service entrance. Earlier that day, on an 'innocent trip' to the building to do recon, he had slipped a piece of duct tape over the locking mechanism of the door. The door shut, but the latch would not engage, gaining him access.
He opened the door and reaching into his backpack for his next piece of gear. The battery-powered, high-power strobe was used for lighting for concerts, but it served this purpose as well. Careful to avoid letting his face show in the doorway, he slipped the strobe inside and activated it. The high intensity flashes from the strobe hit the security camera and overloaded its ccd just long enough to cause it to reset, only to be hit by another blast from the strobe.
The camera blinded, he slipped inside. He went immediately to the emergency stairwell. Pulling out a device he had 'borrowed' from the castle, he plugged it into the electronic keypad on the door. In moments, it ran through the various permutations and stopped when it hit the proper code. Punching in the number, the door lock popped open. With a smile, he slipped into the stairwell.
Chuck checked his gear again. Nervous? Hell yes he was nervous. This was his first solo mission and the stakes were the highest he had ever faced. He checked his watch. 0300. Perfect. The human body's circadian rhythm cycle was lowest in the early morning hours, which is why sneak attacks usually occurred then.
Chuck hefted the backpack and then slipped his arms through the straps. He wiggled it a little to get it properly situated so that it would not impede his movements. Then he dashed up the stairs. He was a little winded when he reached the proper floor, so he took a few deep breaths and waited for his heart to quick racing. Actually, his heart was racing even without the physical exertion. If he was caught, it would be bad. Very bad.
He opened the stairwell door and checked the corridor. It was clean. No movement. He slipped out into the hallway. His target was at the far end. He held his breath as he snuck down the hall. All he needed now was for one of the residents to have a late-night emergency and catch him.
He made it all the way down the hall. Here, things got tricky. There was a hidden motion sensor that covered the door at the end of the hallway. It had taken some fancy intel to dig out that fact and he was rather proud of having discovered it. He reached in the backpack and pulled out a thin thermal blanket. Not for its thermal properties, of course, but that would help in case the motion sensor had been upgraded with an infrared sensor as well. He held the blanket up in front of him and moved slowly toward the door. Not many people knew that most motion sensors could be fooled by the simple expedient of holding up a blanket. Thank God for 'Mythbusters.'
Now he was at his destination and facing the locked door. Or at least, what appeared to be a locked door. However, upon leaving the target location earlier that evening, he had slipped a piece of chewing gun into the bolt-hole on the doorframe. He had practiced the maneuver until not only could he slip it in unnoticed, but he could put just enough in that the door seemed to latch, but could be opened with a good push.
Indeed, he applied slightly increasing pressure to the door until he heard a very soft 'click' and the door swung open. He barely caught himself from spilling into the room. His heart was racing now. He moved slowly into the room and stopped. He listened carefully and heard the gentle rhythmic sounds of breathing. He listened for a minute, then two. It seemed like an eternity, but he couldn't allow the subject to awaken. That would not only scrub the mission but cause him no end of trouble.
The sleeper had not awoken. Ever so gently, Chuck reached in the backpack and gingerly extracted the items which were the raison d'etre of the mission. He carefully placed them on the table. There was a slight rustle as the sleeper moved and Chuck's heart pounded so loudly he thought it alone might wake the sleeper, but after standing still for a few minutes, the sleeper's rhythmic breathing returned. Breathing a sigh of relief and muttering a silent 'thank you' to the heavens, Chuck backed slowly and silently out of the room.
At the doorway, he slipped out a Swiss army knife and pried the chewing gum out of the bolt-hole and then lifted the blanket to once again move past the sensor at the door. He resisted the urge to run down the hall, but his exit to the stairwell was much quicker than his entrance.
Flying down the stairs, he stopped at the bottom to put the thermal blanket back in the backpack. He opened the door at the bottom of the stairwell and glanced around the corridor. No one.
He made his way cautiously back to the service entrance, pulled off the duct tape securing the lock, and grabbed the strobe before allowing the door to close and latch. He checked it to make sure it was secure, then retrieved the bicycle and cycled home as fast as he could.
He put the bike back behind the bushes, slipped into the window of the vacant apartment and then out into the courtyard. It was hard to steel himself to enough caution to avoid the cameras in the courtyard, so close was he to the end of the mission, but he couldn't mess up and be caught now. He almost blew it at the last moment, forgetting the infrared sensor next to the Morgan Door, but he stopped just before he tripped it and got out another can of Dust-off. Chilling the sensor once again to blind it, he slipped back into his bedroom and silently undressed before slipping back into bed.
He turned off the recorder and then laid down as if asleep before clicking off the laser-pointer blinding the pinhole camera.
He smiled in the darkness, but anyone watching the surveillance tape could simply attribute that to a pleasant dream.
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The alarm flashed over from 6:59 to 7:00 and Huey Lewis and the News' 'The Power of Love' began blasting out of the speaker. Chuck slapped at the alarm to turn it off. He was dreadfully tired after the mission last night, but he smiled. It was worth it.
He was just about to head to the shower when his phone rang.
Sarah's smiling face, resplendent in her Wienerlicious uniform was on the screen. He hit the button to connect.
"How did you do it?" she asked.
"Do what?" Chuck asked, innocently.
"There is a teddy bear, a box of chocolates, and a card from my 'secret admirer' on the table in my room," she said. "How in the world do you suppose it got there?"
"Gee, I don't know," Chuck said.
"Really?" Sarah asked.
"Really. Ask Casey. I was in bed by 11:00 and asleep all night."
"I already called Casey," Sarah said. "He swears there was no way you could have gotten out last night without knowing it, although the security camera in your room blanked out for about an hour last night."
"Imagine that," Chuck said. "Must be my electrifying personality."
"Must be," Sarah said. "How did you do it, Chuck?"
Chuck shrugged, a move that was lost on Sarah on the other end of the phone. "I guess you'll just have to wonder who your secret admirer is," he said. "But I need to get in the shower or I'll be late for work."
"Uh huh," she said.
"Goodbye, Sarah," Chuck said.
"Chuck?" Sarah said, "Happy Valentine's Day."
"Happy Valentine's Day, Sarah."
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And Happy Valentine's Day to all you Charah fans out there.