Okay. This is my first shot at a fanfic, and there will be a LOT more chapters. I wrote this forever ago, and now am deciding to publish it! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I am not Scott Westerfeld, and I don't own Leviathan. :(
Moonlight shone on the Raffles Browns Hotel. All was quiet, and the lights were dim or out, as the clock struck one. The infiltrator glided from his post behind a gilt chair in the dining hall into a convenient alcove nearby. His two comrades should be in place by now. He strained his ears for any sound, and was rewarded when he heard footsteps. Good, they aren't very far from hearing range… The intruder watched two shadowy forms slip into another alcove similar to the one where he himself lay concealed. He inclined his head forward and listened. He heard the low voice speaking in German, but that was no detriment to him. He smiled. German was, after all, his native language.
"Dr. Barlow has refused to speak to any interviewers, and has become increasingly concerned about security on the east wing of Fabrication Lab A, so there is virtually no security in the west wing, and there is a breach that could lead to the east wing, but she is under so much stress that she has failed to see it," said the first voice.
"And we are to… take care of… that issue?" inquired the second voice.
"Yes," replied the other, chuckling. "It is up to us to find our own way to do so, though," replied the other.
"As usual," said the second, almost ruefully, "but yet when we take our own initiative, and the result is unsatisfactory, we are chastised."
The first merely grunted, and the second continued.
"And have you heard of the rumor that the Agency has sent out three more agents?"
"Yes," said the first, voice filled with disdain, "and a blasted nuisance it is. We will act in two days' time; long enough for the objective to still be available, and to formulate a plan, but short enough that those agents don't arrive."
Here the intruder frowned. Three more. Really, it was nearing the rendezvous time with his companions, and he needed to leave. But he thought that there might be more to the information.
His dilemma was solved with the second voice's next words.
"Well, I'm for sleep. Let's head back to the room and formulate a plan after we get some rest."
"Excellent," replied the first. "One could almost swear that plotting consumes more energy than spying."
The second said something in reply, but it was all lost to the intruder. He had already slipped out of the room and was tearing down the hall, silent in stocking-clad feet. He had to warn his comrades to clear out fast, before they were caught.
The Zoological Society of London was in need of little, but information was practically its lifeblood. As an agent for them, it was his duty to provide them with just that. And Aleksander von Hohenburg had every intention of doing his duty.
This obviously isn't Scott's style of writing, but hey, I tried.