Outside the building, I walked on silent footsteps to the air duct that
would lead into the building. The guards near it, unprotected by the power
beepers, fell asleep rather suddenly upon meeting my eyes. I stared at the
black entrance of the silver tunnel. –This- was going to be uncomfortable.
I dropped, cat-like on the floor of the basement, then stood up carefully, making sure I didn't move at all outwards from where I stood. Moving excruciatingly slowly turning around, dropping into the opening of the vent, I almost gasped with relief when I could just hold still for a moment.
The only reason the criss-crossing lasers did not include the area directly in front of the vent was probably because of rats having set off alarms. I was not a rat. Trying not to move farther than a rat hurt like hell.
My vision went green when I slipped the goggles slowly over my eyes. The invisible lasers popped up red now. I slowly tipped my head back. Miles was right. There were less thin lines of red that would catch me on the ceiling. Damn. If I was going to jump, I'd have to angle it to hit a gap in the red, big enough for me and my backpack with it's essential equipment.
Thankfully, my enhanced senses and muscles would not set off any alarms. I tensed up and angled, hitting the ceiling with a soft thump.
I'd carefully transformed the tips of my fingers into clinging devices somewhat like the fabled Spider-man's before I entered the building. I can do minor shape-changes, and since I did this one outside the building, it would not set off any power alarms either.
Crawling slowly across the ceiling, the irony struck me. I thought of Miles' words. What is the pretty little English noble Vamp doing here?
The door into the next room loomed. Dangling from my black utility belt was a piece of coiled heavy endurance wire. With a carefully aimed swing and a flick of my laser pen, I could end up on the ceiling in the next room without any trouble.
I glanced at the camera. Good thing Miles was using my tap to overlap the camera tapes from last night.
Using precisely tuned instincts, I aimed my laser pen, hitting the target (the little pad hats sensed the laser's presence) right on. Now when I swung through the beam in the way, my laser pen would replace the original one, and the pad would sense no cutting of the laser hitting it. Carefully, making sure I tilted my hand perfectly so the beam never wiggled. I stuck it onto the ceiling gently with some putty. I'd get it when I came back.
I drove my anchor into the ceiling, hooking it onto one of my armguards. Then I swung, cutting through one laser, but my pen replaced it perfectly. Slowly detaching myself from the cord, I stuck it to the ceiling so it wouldn't swing back.
The service elevator was on the basement floor, open, thanks to Kahnset's previous hacking. Since it was open, the alarms would be down, and I crawled in, hanging on the ceiling with my feet and one hand as I pulled the tiles off the roof of the elevator. I carefully placed them on the top so I could get them later and replace them. I wiggled through the hole I'd made, then quickly climbed to the second floor.
Prying the door open quietly, I landed silently in the hallway. This was where I'd start running into guards. There were no alarms on this floor, besides the power detectors, because the guards did have to move at some point. I crept carefully along the wall. I could crawl along the ceiling if I wanted to, but bored people look up, and hanging off the ceiling made to easy of a target out of me.
I passed three of the guards in the shadows. I'd rather avoid hurting anyone. There's always the chance that these guys are buddies and might go looking for eachother. Not everyone stays at his or her posts. After all, nothing ever happens here.
There. I was waiting for one of them to hear me. "Merde…" I muttered, although I knew that I would not get through without –someone- noticing, no matter how dead they were two seconds after this realization. The security guards, a fat, lazy mercenary in blue, came walking down the quiet hall, his boots clicking slightly. His flashlight threw a silver circle of light in front of him.
"You looking for me, honey?" I asked quietly, stepping directly into the beam of light.
His mouth was open, surprised at my sudden, silent approach. It gave me the two seconds that I needed to swing my foot in a deadly arch, hitting him directly behind the ear, making him fall, twitching slightly. He wasn't dead, but he wouldn't be telling anyone about me, either.
I kept creeping. In the hallway outside the office was a whole regiment of about ten guys. This would be the fun challenge of tonight. None of them could have time to call for backup. And I couldn't use my powers.
Five of them were lounging against one of the office walls. They all had guns. The other five had guns, too, but they were patrolling the hallway. I could pick the five sentries off, but I'd still end up with the five on the wall all coming at me at once.
One by one, the sentries found me in their hallways, waiting crouch. A series of punches directly aimed at a soft spot on the skull would keep them from remembering much. They'd just think they fell asleep on the job. And they'd never tell each other. Too proud for that.
I'd put it off. I had to get rid of the guards in the hallway. Turning the corner, I walked straight towards them.
It took them a few seconds to realize that I, in my black working outfit with it's several guns, utility belt, and black backpack was not one of them, returning from a watch to switch off.
Dodging between them, knocking radios, phones, and other beeper devices out of their hands with quick blows.
It took a while to beat them down. However, they were only too human, and my ability to move faster than they could see without using my power really confused them.
Taking a deep breath, I picked the lock on his steel lined door that wasn't alarmed in case the guards were in trouble and slipped into the office.
He was a very neat man. The office was almost bare of everything except his desk and his chair. Unlucky. There'd be no nifty and handy place for me to put the camera. "Maintenant où mettre cette chose…" I used French almost unconsciously, the language I'd used most of my life bubbling to my tongue with my frustration. "Où ne rechercheraient-ils pas un appareil- photo ?" That's right…Where would they –not- look for a camera? Unbidden, I glanced at the ceiling again. I smirked.
A week later. They'd brushed over the guards' stories there had been a woman in black in the building. There had been no evidence of my entrance –anywhere- no alarms had gone off –anywhere- nothing had been disturbed except the guards, and so they simply assumed they had been on something, dismissed them, and gone on with normal security.
My camera was in the ceiling. Looking down through a crack that was already there.
The only problem was…I still, after scanning the tapes a good many times, had not found the evidence that I needed. People came and went, he worked on his computer. Nothing on his computer had anything to do with mutants. It was all legitimate work. "Damnez-le…" I grumbled angrily, turning away from the monitor that showed me nothing.
"I have a theory, Samantha." Miles had been helping me monitor since last week. I'd grown sick of his little comments since them, but I tried not to snap at him.
"What?"
"I think…you've been sent on a goose chase. It's pretty well known that several of the more wealthy mutant supporters have died recently. Who was hiring you then?"
"Guy who called himself Magneto." I shrugged. "I dunno, he was paying me good."
"Who hired you for this job?"
I shrugged. "I assumed it was the same guy. He didn't mention a name, but he wanted the same basic services as Mags."
"But he didn't mention his name?"
"No he didn't." I snapped. "But most of my employers don't. That way they can't be traced. I fail to see what this has to do with the fact I –still- haven't found the information I need to kill this guy."
"What if…Jerry…hired you?"
"WHAT?"
"Well…since it was generally known money-bags were dying, maybe he looked you up and hired you on a goose chase to get you out of the way…? There were several gaps of you getting into that building that were just plain unexplainable. You shouldn't have been able to do it without powers. He did this so you'd spend your time watching the wrong place and-"
"Stupid. If he didn't realize Mags wouldn't sick me on him, then I'd find out his plan and kill him anyway." I shrugged.
"You're taking this calmly." Miles said, folding his fingers together carefully into a steeple.
I shrugged. I still got paid for this goose chase, and although it included work I could have avoided, it was good money. However, I will also exact my revenge. He'll be dead tomorrow morning."
"Doesn't it bother you that he bested you?" Miles was looking at me funny, his eyes narrowed slightly, as if something I said was particularly unbelievable.
"Yes, but he won't be besting anyone by tomorrow, so why should I be all upset?"
Miles frowned slightly but said nothing.
I smiled, wandered to the back of my cave-like apartment. I eyes the piles of knives, guns, and other devices and carefully chose things that would hurt. "But I didn't say he'd die quickly."
Miles blinked a couple times.
"I wonder if Mags will pay me for killing him even though he didn't, literally, hire me." I said, eyeing the knife I had picked, one with wicked notched edges that wouldn't hurt going in, but would tear up stuff coming out.
Miles raised an eyebrow but didn't say aything about my choice of weapons.
I went on talking to myself. "He'll probably pay. Jerry really is an old fool." I paused, corrected myself. "Was."
I dropped, cat-like on the floor of the basement, then stood up carefully, making sure I didn't move at all outwards from where I stood. Moving excruciatingly slowly turning around, dropping into the opening of the vent, I almost gasped with relief when I could just hold still for a moment.
The only reason the criss-crossing lasers did not include the area directly in front of the vent was probably because of rats having set off alarms. I was not a rat. Trying not to move farther than a rat hurt like hell.
My vision went green when I slipped the goggles slowly over my eyes. The invisible lasers popped up red now. I slowly tipped my head back. Miles was right. There were less thin lines of red that would catch me on the ceiling. Damn. If I was going to jump, I'd have to angle it to hit a gap in the red, big enough for me and my backpack with it's essential equipment.
Thankfully, my enhanced senses and muscles would not set off any alarms. I tensed up and angled, hitting the ceiling with a soft thump.
I'd carefully transformed the tips of my fingers into clinging devices somewhat like the fabled Spider-man's before I entered the building. I can do minor shape-changes, and since I did this one outside the building, it would not set off any power alarms either.
Crawling slowly across the ceiling, the irony struck me. I thought of Miles' words. What is the pretty little English noble Vamp doing here?
The door into the next room loomed. Dangling from my black utility belt was a piece of coiled heavy endurance wire. With a carefully aimed swing and a flick of my laser pen, I could end up on the ceiling in the next room without any trouble.
I glanced at the camera. Good thing Miles was using my tap to overlap the camera tapes from last night.
Using precisely tuned instincts, I aimed my laser pen, hitting the target (the little pad hats sensed the laser's presence) right on. Now when I swung through the beam in the way, my laser pen would replace the original one, and the pad would sense no cutting of the laser hitting it. Carefully, making sure I tilted my hand perfectly so the beam never wiggled. I stuck it onto the ceiling gently with some putty. I'd get it when I came back.
I drove my anchor into the ceiling, hooking it onto one of my armguards. Then I swung, cutting through one laser, but my pen replaced it perfectly. Slowly detaching myself from the cord, I stuck it to the ceiling so it wouldn't swing back.
The service elevator was on the basement floor, open, thanks to Kahnset's previous hacking. Since it was open, the alarms would be down, and I crawled in, hanging on the ceiling with my feet and one hand as I pulled the tiles off the roof of the elevator. I carefully placed them on the top so I could get them later and replace them. I wiggled through the hole I'd made, then quickly climbed to the second floor.
Prying the door open quietly, I landed silently in the hallway. This was where I'd start running into guards. There were no alarms on this floor, besides the power detectors, because the guards did have to move at some point. I crept carefully along the wall. I could crawl along the ceiling if I wanted to, but bored people look up, and hanging off the ceiling made to easy of a target out of me.
I passed three of the guards in the shadows. I'd rather avoid hurting anyone. There's always the chance that these guys are buddies and might go looking for eachother. Not everyone stays at his or her posts. After all, nothing ever happens here.
There. I was waiting for one of them to hear me. "Merde…" I muttered, although I knew that I would not get through without –someone- noticing, no matter how dead they were two seconds after this realization. The security guards, a fat, lazy mercenary in blue, came walking down the quiet hall, his boots clicking slightly. His flashlight threw a silver circle of light in front of him.
"You looking for me, honey?" I asked quietly, stepping directly into the beam of light.
His mouth was open, surprised at my sudden, silent approach. It gave me the two seconds that I needed to swing my foot in a deadly arch, hitting him directly behind the ear, making him fall, twitching slightly. He wasn't dead, but he wouldn't be telling anyone about me, either.
I kept creeping. In the hallway outside the office was a whole regiment of about ten guys. This would be the fun challenge of tonight. None of them could have time to call for backup. And I couldn't use my powers.
Five of them were lounging against one of the office walls. They all had guns. The other five had guns, too, but they were patrolling the hallway. I could pick the five sentries off, but I'd still end up with the five on the wall all coming at me at once.
One by one, the sentries found me in their hallways, waiting crouch. A series of punches directly aimed at a soft spot on the skull would keep them from remembering much. They'd just think they fell asleep on the job. And they'd never tell each other. Too proud for that.
I'd put it off. I had to get rid of the guards in the hallway. Turning the corner, I walked straight towards them.
It took them a few seconds to realize that I, in my black working outfit with it's several guns, utility belt, and black backpack was not one of them, returning from a watch to switch off.
Dodging between them, knocking radios, phones, and other beeper devices out of their hands with quick blows.
It took a while to beat them down. However, they were only too human, and my ability to move faster than they could see without using my power really confused them.
Taking a deep breath, I picked the lock on his steel lined door that wasn't alarmed in case the guards were in trouble and slipped into the office.
He was a very neat man. The office was almost bare of everything except his desk and his chair. Unlucky. There'd be no nifty and handy place for me to put the camera. "Maintenant où mettre cette chose…" I used French almost unconsciously, the language I'd used most of my life bubbling to my tongue with my frustration. "Où ne rechercheraient-ils pas un appareil- photo ?" That's right…Where would they –not- look for a camera? Unbidden, I glanced at the ceiling again. I smirked.
A week later. They'd brushed over the guards' stories there had been a woman in black in the building. There had been no evidence of my entrance –anywhere- no alarms had gone off –anywhere- nothing had been disturbed except the guards, and so they simply assumed they had been on something, dismissed them, and gone on with normal security.
My camera was in the ceiling. Looking down through a crack that was already there.
The only problem was…I still, after scanning the tapes a good many times, had not found the evidence that I needed. People came and went, he worked on his computer. Nothing on his computer had anything to do with mutants. It was all legitimate work. "Damnez-le…" I grumbled angrily, turning away from the monitor that showed me nothing.
"I have a theory, Samantha." Miles had been helping me monitor since last week. I'd grown sick of his little comments since them, but I tried not to snap at him.
"What?"
"I think…you've been sent on a goose chase. It's pretty well known that several of the more wealthy mutant supporters have died recently. Who was hiring you then?"
"Guy who called himself Magneto." I shrugged. "I dunno, he was paying me good."
"Who hired you for this job?"
I shrugged. "I assumed it was the same guy. He didn't mention a name, but he wanted the same basic services as Mags."
"But he didn't mention his name?"
"No he didn't." I snapped. "But most of my employers don't. That way they can't be traced. I fail to see what this has to do with the fact I –still- haven't found the information I need to kill this guy."
"What if…Jerry…hired you?"
"WHAT?"
"Well…since it was generally known money-bags were dying, maybe he looked you up and hired you on a goose chase to get you out of the way…? There were several gaps of you getting into that building that were just plain unexplainable. You shouldn't have been able to do it without powers. He did this so you'd spend your time watching the wrong place and-"
"Stupid. If he didn't realize Mags wouldn't sick me on him, then I'd find out his plan and kill him anyway." I shrugged.
"You're taking this calmly." Miles said, folding his fingers together carefully into a steeple.
I shrugged. I still got paid for this goose chase, and although it included work I could have avoided, it was good money. However, I will also exact my revenge. He'll be dead tomorrow morning."
"Doesn't it bother you that he bested you?" Miles was looking at me funny, his eyes narrowed slightly, as if something I said was particularly unbelievable.
"Yes, but he won't be besting anyone by tomorrow, so why should I be all upset?"
Miles frowned slightly but said nothing.
I smiled, wandered to the back of my cave-like apartment. I eyes the piles of knives, guns, and other devices and carefully chose things that would hurt. "But I didn't say he'd die quickly."
Miles blinked a couple times.
"I wonder if Mags will pay me for killing him even though he didn't, literally, hire me." I said, eyeing the knife I had picked, one with wicked notched edges that wouldn't hurt going in, but would tear up stuff coming out.
Miles raised an eyebrow but didn't say aything about my choice of weapons.
I went on talking to myself. "He'll probably pay. Jerry really is an old fool." I paused, corrected myself. "Was."