His trip through Columbia went unhindered, a couple of times he'd been forced to duck out of sight, take a small detour, but he'd reached a skyline and managed to get to Monument Island without an army of policemen chasing after him.
Now it was late evening as he stood behind the black iron gates. Soldiers were patrolling the grounds around the statue, there were men in casual dress milling about between them, some carried clipboards, others stacks of files and papers. He wondered what would demand such heavy military protection, and a civilian workforce… what was this girl capable of? He inched closer to the wall, trying to figure out how he'd get through the courtyard into the effigy itself. This would not be easy.
DeWitt pulled his gun from his vest, whatever his morals, he'd shoot anyone who shot at him. He waited for an opportune moment then scrambled over the fence, gingerly maneuvering over the point-tipped top, praying silently no one would see him.
Dropping down he immediately crouched behind the closest piece of cover he could find, in this case a shipping crate. There was enough space for him to walk between the crate and the wall, keeping hidden, but how to get from here to the entrance, past the guards and patrols was another question altogether. He weighed his options.
"I'm fucking suicidal." He mumbled, but seeing no other way DeWitt slipped from behind the crate and walked confidently, head up, doing his best to pretend he belonged there.
Amazingly, the soldiers paid him no mind, the two guards at the door eyed him suspiciously, but said nothing. Bookers heart pounded as he pushed the great blue door open and slipped inside, the first thing Booker DeWitt was met with was a wall of warning signs! In big, bold bright red and white letters the words; "WARNING: SPECIMEN IS DANGEROUS." adored the great walls, a grim looking skull picture adding emphasis alongside the foreboding text.
He withdrew the handkerchief he'd pocketed and wiped his brow, walking forward calmly, but quickly. He knew that his short form wasn't going to attract too much attention; the place was a beehive of activity, there were far fewer soldiers here, but the men who were here were milling about like ants, comparing notes, moving between stations and writing down observations. Booker advanced through the complex, keeping his head level, his eyes shot from wall to wall, from pictures and graphs to complex diagrams and timetables. Every man in here seemed to know what his job was, and Booker quickly realised that this entire tower was a science experiment. He didn't want to believe it, but as he walked further, he encountered a graph titled "Morphology", on it were drawn 4 female silhouettes, various notes and graphs connecting them, from smallest to biggest, all 4 marked with an individual age, from 4 years old through to 17. DeWitt clenched his fists, what kind of perverted fucking sadists experiment on a 4 year old? He was going to get the girl out of this bloody madhouse.
The facility got more and more complex, and more sparsely populated as he made his way through it, people were eyeing him now, undoubtedly some had figured that he didn't belong. He'd gotten through the entrance door with his skyhook easily enough, all these people must get here via the skylines, he'd figured. But everyone had taken theirs off, stored it somewhere, and Booker walked awkwardly trying to keep his hands crossed to make the brass mechanism less obvious. The rooms themselves were no longer filled with scientific observations, but now with heavy machinery. There were no ceiling lights, but lightning arcing between pylons and receptors which bathed the rooms in a toxic blue glow. It was loud, the crackling of electricity, constant hum of machinery, DeWitt could barely hear himself. The amount of people glancing over their shoulders at DeWitt was now worrisome, he sped up, moving between the rooms quickly, his pace just short of running speed. Ahead of him he spied an elevator and beelined towards it, mashing the "UP" button with his fist he found that he'd been holding his breath and allowed himself to exhale once the doors had shut behind him and he was ascending.
Booker may have been able to sneak through the science complex with reckless audacity, but something told him it wouldn't be that easy. He wasn't wrong. The elevator door opened and immediately there was a checkpoint, 4 soldiers stood by a hatch, the floor was no longer hardwood, no, this was the metal shell of the statue itself. The soldiers span startled, facing Booker, they started to raise their rifles, obviously confused. Booker didn't hesitate, his gun in his hand he unloaded four shots, each one resonating in the small steel room, each aimed at a mans head. All four men dropped to the ground, dead; their rifles clattering harmlessly to the floor.
Booker worked quickly, he stripped the four men of ammunition, picking up one of their rifles and throwing it over his shoulder by its strap. He was alert, ready for an alarm to sound, or for men to barge into the room, for some sort of combat… but nothing came. Resolving to keep moving, he twisted open the hatch lock and made his way onto a ramp, it took a good 15 minutes to ascend the ramps until he was close to the top of the tower. He understood now why no one had heard him shoot four men dead, there was no one to hear. He made it to another hatch, and a second, then a third. He'd lost count of which one this was, cranking it open as he had with the ones that came before. Only this time he came face to face with a scientist. On instinct DeWitt grabbed him by the collar and brought the skyhook to his neck, squeezing the trigger the mechanism dug in. With a sickening snap, the man sunk to the floor.
Booker stared at the body then looked at the wall in front of him. A lever was there, he pulled it, hard, and the wall opened; DeWitt stared at the girl whose photo was still in his breast pocket, she stared back calmly, and for a second Booker felt as if he'd been caught snooping. It was only after a few seconds, when the girl started to comb her hair that DeWitt understood the window must be one way. The girl was about 20, he guessed, her build petite, a slim waist and small perky breasts, long legs covered by a flowing blue dress, with a white blouse tucked into it. Underneath the navy collar was a loosely tied cravat. Most striking was the girls face, her delicate features afforded her a very kind appearance, friendly even, except for her eyes; big, blue, breathtakingly beautiful eyes… her eyes looked tired, melancholy.
Booker glanced again at the corpse of the man he'd just killed, and felt no remorse, he made his way through the hatch and through several more rooms like the one he'd just left, with more one way windows, he glanced into the open ones, seeing the girl as she slowly moved about her abode… her prison, he realised.
Finally he reached a steel door, a big red button present on the wall beside it, warning signs adorning the walls; Booker didn't need to be a scientist to figure out how to work this. Clenching a fist he slammed the red button down, instantly an alarm sounded, red light bathed the room.
"Damn it."
Booker was about to turn back, run to the nearest window, and try to shoot his way through it, when the mechanism of the massive door activated. Its gears grinded and the tumblers fell into place. With a hiss of air the doorway started to open.