BDP 47
Ian was beginning to think he had a promising career in housebreaking if he ever got tired of the military life. This was the third secure area he'd broken into this week. Fourth to be technical, but he didn't really count Moira's apartment as secure. The door had yielded to easily to be considered a challenge.
Although to be fair, Burke at least had locked her door. Dr. Pym's office had been wide open when Ian had tried the door. Moira hadn't asked him to check Pym's office, probably because she didn't think he had any more information than the rest of them. Ian didn't either, but he needed something to store the data he did find on.
There were several diskettes just lying around the office that he picked up. Investigating a strange hump in the left corner he found, under a stack of paper, an external zip drive. Ian debated on taking it too, wondering if it would be missed. It would be nice to have the option of copying all of Casca's hard drive. In the end he took it, thinking with amusement that it would hardly be the first piece of equipment to sprout legs around here.
Ian left Pym's office with the zip drive tucked into his shirt. The fatigues were baggy enough that the lump was hardly visible. Nottingham walked unchallenged the few feet of hallway that separated Casca and Pym's offices He was still shaking his head over the fact that the department head left his office wide open when he reached his objective.
Casca's office was a different story. Like all the inner doors, there was an electronic passkey sensor that controlled the lock. With the proper tools such doors were quickly subverted. Lacking the equipment, Ian had been forced to unscrew the front plate, using the corner of his belt buckle, and hotwire the entrance. It had not been as easy as it looked in the movies. His fingers were still tingling from the current he'd inadvertently brushed against.
Nottingham had put everything back together, once he'd gotten a green light, so that his tampering would not be evident to the casual eye. Unfortunately the computer logs would still show a manual override entry. Ian knew if he wanted to erase his tracks completely, he was going to have to access the system mainframe.
He was probably going to have to do that anyway. Despite what he'd said to Moira, there was a very real chance that there was a recording of him striking Casca. Even if no one had been watching that monitor at the time, it would be observed when the surveillance tape was reviewed at a later date.
Ian was just going to have to find a way to get to the tapes before that happened. If he were careful, it would look like one of the guards had misfiled the tape for recording over instead of archiving. Even if someone suspected that the tape had been taken, they would assume that one of the guards had it in his home-video collection. They would never think to look at the test subjects, who weren't even supposed to know that they were being monitored.
Sitting on Casca's desk was a laptop. Moira had been right to think that tonight was their best opportunity to acquire the withheld data. Sitting down Ian logged on; thankful for once that he was very familiar with Casca. It made it a great deal easier to figure out his password. Once into the system, Ian was met with a bewildering array of files. None of the filenames did anything for him, being nothing but two or three letters followed by a three-digit number.
Which files should he download? Sure as the world, anything he didn't, they'd need. Ian hesitated for several moments before deciding to copy everything. Anything that wouldn't fit on the zip drive would have to go on the diskettes.
As the files were being copied, Ian wandered around the office. He opened cabinets and drawers while keeping an ear out for someone to come down the hall. It wouldn't do to get caught by an MP with an overdeveloped sense of duty. There was nothing of interest, just the usual office supplies and a coffee cup that was growing mold.
The small laundry bag with women's clothing merited a raised brow, but the clothes were far too small to fit Casca. The pants and shirt were warm and practical, as were the boots sitting by the sack. In all likelihood they belonged to one of the women he had seen this evening. It would appear that at least one of them had dressed for the weather and changed after they arrived. Even knowing whom they really belonged to, it was still humorous to imagine the big German in women's clothes.
In the end it took all the zip drive and four of the diskettes to copy everything on the portable computer. Ian wondered when Kenneth was going to release a scaled down version of the technology that the laptop was based on, it had a great deal more memory than he would have believed possible.
Virtual loot safely tucked into his clothing, Ian made his way to the surveillance room. His second objective would be a great deal more difficult. The room was, as he predicted, filled with prurient personnel. They were totally absorbed in the cameras showing the converted labs.
Ian had to admit it was a spectacle worthy of a look. The Dragons were wild, uninhibited, and primal. Dragging his eyes away from the monitors, Ian strode across the room like he belonged there. The others, seeing with their peripheral vision just another uniform moving briskly, assumed he was supposed to be there. They never looked up long enough to recognize his face. If they had, it would have been all over.
A fine sheen of sweat glistened on Ian's forehead. Any other time, he could not have gotten away with this. Fortunately they were well and truly preoccupied. He stopped the tapes for everything but what they were watching and rewound them. Once they hit the end, he set them up to begin recording again.
Nottingham looked longingly at the keypad near the cluster of men. There was no way he was going to get into the mainframe without being observed. He would have to hope that no one would think to scrutinize the keypad activations list. Although with what he'd done to the tapes, it would be impossible to prove who had bypassed Casca's door.
Ian disliked relying on the stupidity of his enemy, but it looked like he had done all he could do tonight. With a last glance at the Dragons, Ian walked back out, heading to meet up with his lady.
Ian was beginning to think he had a promising career in housebreaking if he ever got tired of the military life. This was the third secure area he'd broken into this week. Fourth to be technical, but he didn't really count Moira's apartment as secure. The door had yielded to easily to be considered a challenge.
Although to be fair, Burke at least had locked her door. Dr. Pym's office had been wide open when Ian had tried the door. Moira hadn't asked him to check Pym's office, probably because she didn't think he had any more information than the rest of them. Ian didn't either, but he needed something to store the data he did find on.
There were several diskettes just lying around the office that he picked up. Investigating a strange hump in the left corner he found, under a stack of paper, an external zip drive. Ian debated on taking it too, wondering if it would be missed. It would be nice to have the option of copying all of Casca's hard drive. In the end he took it, thinking with amusement that it would hardly be the first piece of equipment to sprout legs around here.
Ian left Pym's office with the zip drive tucked into his shirt. The fatigues were baggy enough that the lump was hardly visible. Nottingham walked unchallenged the few feet of hallway that separated Casca and Pym's offices He was still shaking his head over the fact that the department head left his office wide open when he reached his objective.
Casca's office was a different story. Like all the inner doors, there was an electronic passkey sensor that controlled the lock. With the proper tools such doors were quickly subverted. Lacking the equipment, Ian had been forced to unscrew the front plate, using the corner of his belt buckle, and hotwire the entrance. It had not been as easy as it looked in the movies. His fingers were still tingling from the current he'd inadvertently brushed against.
Nottingham had put everything back together, once he'd gotten a green light, so that his tampering would not be evident to the casual eye. Unfortunately the computer logs would still show a manual override entry. Ian knew if he wanted to erase his tracks completely, he was going to have to access the system mainframe.
He was probably going to have to do that anyway. Despite what he'd said to Moira, there was a very real chance that there was a recording of him striking Casca. Even if no one had been watching that monitor at the time, it would be observed when the surveillance tape was reviewed at a later date.
Ian was just going to have to find a way to get to the tapes before that happened. If he were careful, it would look like one of the guards had misfiled the tape for recording over instead of archiving. Even if someone suspected that the tape had been taken, they would assume that one of the guards had it in his home-video collection. They would never think to look at the test subjects, who weren't even supposed to know that they were being monitored.
Sitting on Casca's desk was a laptop. Moira had been right to think that tonight was their best opportunity to acquire the withheld data. Sitting down Ian logged on; thankful for once that he was very familiar with Casca. It made it a great deal easier to figure out his password. Once into the system, Ian was met with a bewildering array of files. None of the filenames did anything for him, being nothing but two or three letters followed by a three-digit number.
Which files should he download? Sure as the world, anything he didn't, they'd need. Ian hesitated for several moments before deciding to copy everything. Anything that wouldn't fit on the zip drive would have to go on the diskettes.
As the files were being copied, Ian wandered around the office. He opened cabinets and drawers while keeping an ear out for someone to come down the hall. It wouldn't do to get caught by an MP with an overdeveloped sense of duty. There was nothing of interest, just the usual office supplies and a coffee cup that was growing mold.
The small laundry bag with women's clothing merited a raised brow, but the clothes were far too small to fit Casca. The pants and shirt were warm and practical, as were the boots sitting by the sack. In all likelihood they belonged to one of the women he had seen this evening. It would appear that at least one of them had dressed for the weather and changed after they arrived. Even knowing whom they really belonged to, it was still humorous to imagine the big German in women's clothes.
In the end it took all the zip drive and four of the diskettes to copy everything on the portable computer. Ian wondered when Kenneth was going to release a scaled down version of the technology that the laptop was based on, it had a great deal more memory than he would have believed possible.
Virtual loot safely tucked into his clothing, Ian made his way to the surveillance room. His second objective would be a great deal more difficult. The room was, as he predicted, filled with prurient personnel. They were totally absorbed in the cameras showing the converted labs.
Ian had to admit it was a spectacle worthy of a look. The Dragons were wild, uninhibited, and primal. Dragging his eyes away from the monitors, Ian strode across the room like he belonged there. The others, seeing with their peripheral vision just another uniform moving briskly, assumed he was supposed to be there. They never looked up long enough to recognize his face. If they had, it would have been all over.
A fine sheen of sweat glistened on Ian's forehead. Any other time, he could not have gotten away with this. Fortunately they were well and truly preoccupied. He stopped the tapes for everything but what they were watching and rewound them. Once they hit the end, he set them up to begin recording again.
Nottingham looked longingly at the keypad near the cluster of men. There was no way he was going to get into the mainframe without being observed. He would have to hope that no one would think to scrutinize the keypad activations list. Although with what he'd done to the tapes, it would be impossible to prove who had bypassed Casca's door.
Ian disliked relying on the stupidity of his enemy, but it looked like he had done all he could do tonight. With a last glance at the Dragons, Ian walked back out, heading to meet up with his lady.