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| [The building stands nearly dark; at this time of night the only sources of illumination are the security lights, struggling to keep the shadows at bay, and the odd office flourescent of those working late in a vain attempt at smooching Mr. Swift's buttocks. This far into the night, darkness definately rules, and that's just how the small man likes it. The building has two security systems, and both of them are badly out of date. First, an ancient electronic mess of sensors and alarms aimed for scaring potential intruders rather than detain or incapacitate them. He's bypassed HUNDREDS of these systems in his day. Hell, he's even helped design some of these types of systems. The other form of security is even easier to deal with --- all he has to do is be quiet and not wake him up. Beauford is a nice old man, but a terrible old security guard. He's also only two weeks from retirement and not very likely to let anything mess that up, especially something as potentially dangerous as to answer an alarm. But the small man isn't worried about Beauford or the alarms. He's more worried that, after all his stealth and sneakiness, the information he seeks is not here. That mights throw things off a bit. Getting into the building and up to the desired floor proves to be child's play. From there, it's just a matter of looking for the right name-plate attached to the office door. Kole ... Marsh ... H. Swift ... B. Swift ... Miranda ... M. Swift. The small man pauses, smiles to no one, and removes a thin package from his pocket. The thin beam of piercing light comes from the tiny flashlight held in his teeth. It's certainly not the best reading light in the world, but the small man has found it time and again to be just perfect in situations such as this. His preliminary investigation of the desk is nearly complete, and his worry begins to grow. The document he's looking for HAS to be here. Already today the small man had ..."borrowed"... Mr. Swift's briefcase, and it hadn't contained what needs. He's almost ready to move the search to the file cabinet when he comes across it: a simple address scribbled on a yellow Post-It note. The small man smiles - a smile almost too big for such a small face. A few silent moments later, and the small man is blocks away.] |
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