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Peter Dohmes wasn't sure why the company bothered to provide its agents with desks. Those particular desks were usually only ever occupied fresh after a mission when there was paperwork to do immediately, but the rest of the time... Assuming the one in question was still alive - and it was fortunately rare that Peter was supposed to deliver something to someone deceased - making all his deliveries always involved visits to the shooting range, the gyms, and cafeteria, and sometimes still having to come back because someone had been getting a lecture or no one had bothered to make sure the individual was even there that day, instead of out sick, shut up in a hospital, or off on some training day.
Well, he couldn't just leave many of these things sitting around unguarded on desks. And although Peter had basic access to all departments, he didn't have the security clearance to check the cameras, nor the patience to deal with security themselves - he swore they were trying to get his entire position dropped.
Peter had his system down, though, and it was about as perfect as a physical message and delivery system could be. Few packages remained from his last round, and this next one was smaller. Time to deliver missions...
Well, he couldn't just leave many of these things sitting around unguarded on desks. And although Peter had basic access to all departments, he didn't have the security clearance to check the cameras, nor the patience to deal with security themselves - he swore they were trying to get his entire position dropped.
Peter had his system down, though, and it was about as perfect as a physical message and delivery system could be. Few packages remained from his last round, and this next one was smaller. Time to deliver missions...
Carter stands behind the metal stall at the company's shooting range, squinting down the sights at a black and white paper target. He draws a bead on the head first, firing off three rounds from his rifle into the printed-on head of the target before quickly darting his gaze to the shoulders, firing, to the chest, firing, and to the legs, firing. He pulls the gun away from his face and takes his finger off the trigger, letting out a deep breath. He sets it down on the counter in front of his and presses down a button that causes the target to rattle towards him. He rips it down and silently nods, quite pleased with his results. He was staying sharp. He folds it up and pockets it, grabs his rifle and ejects the magazine into his palm and steps out of the stall, sweeping aside spent cartridges with his boots. As he returns his weapons to the rack, he realizes just how bored he is with his job. "Not a single job for three goddamn months..." he grumbles under his breath as he locks up the arms rack and starts towards the door.
With earplugs safely buried in his ears, Peter moved on to see who was presently in the shooting range. He never liked it much, but it was better than dealing with those in some of the gyms. At least everyone knew better than to point guns in others' faces.
As he went in, someone else appeared to be on the way out. Peter looked him over - Corwin, agent. Had an envelope. Peter dipped his hand in his cart as he carried along, and had the envelope out by the time he reached the guy. He didn't bother saying anything, figuring it wouldn't be heard anyway, but gave a take-this-so-I-can-continue smile as he held it out.
Inside were the details of a mission, but the goal was clear enough: infiltration and data deletion, with an emphasis on haste. Nothing supernatural was expected, so no particularly specialized combat equipment would be provided without a special request and approval - just some of the basic catch-all equipment. He was also permitted a small team of his choosing, so long as they all had appropriate security clearance within the company.
As he went in, someone else appeared to be on the way out. Peter looked him over - Corwin, agent. Had an envelope. Peter dipped his hand in his cart as he carried along, and had the envelope out by the time he reached the guy. He didn't bother saying anything, figuring it wouldn't be heard anyway, but gave a take-this-so-I-can-continue smile as he held it out.
Inside were the details of a mission, but the goal was clear enough: infiltration and data deletion, with an emphasis on haste. Nothing supernatural was expected, so no particularly specialized combat equipment would be provided without a special request and approval - just some of the basic catch-all equipment. He was also permitted a small team of his choosing, so long as they all had appropriate security clearance within the company.
Carter smiles back at the man handing him the package - Peter, he thought his name was - and continues on down the hallway. He tears open the orange envelope and stops at a wastebasket to throw away the packaging. He reads over the debrief, once, twice, before smiling heartily and folding up the paper and putting them in his pocket. It was like a godsend to him, a saving grace from his seemingly perpetual inactivity. He turns around, heading back to the armory to get his weapons. He grabs his pistol and shoves it in his waist holster and picks up his rifle and slings his over his back, and heads for the equipment rooms. He was going to go alone for this one. He walks into the equipment room and selects his usual loadout, his pocket computer and several other gadgets, especially stealth related items for this mission. He punches in a few numbers into a keypad, that marks his items as "In use", before heading to the garages and selecting a black Chrysler. He grabs the keys and slides into the front seat and revs up the engine. He slams the door shut and takes another look at the mission brief. "Alright, where to...."
Two separate locations were listed: the origin and a third-party data storage center. The data in question was security camera footage from a public zoo some forty miles away, plus any reports or other information that might be relevant to the space of time indicated. The data storage center that particular zoo was known to work with lay out another twenty-five miles from there.
There was no information included about what was actually in the video: just time, date, and the numbers of the cameras the video had come from.
There was no information included about what was actually in the video: just time, date, and the numbers of the cameras the video had come from.
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