《Relevance and A World Flying Off The Tracks》Breaking and Entering
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For the first time in several weeks, my feet tread across the ground of the Dreaming Spires District. The black cab had dropped me off at the entrance of Unity College's in campus hospital and was now driving off to hide somewhere in the darkness of the late evening. Both The Voice and I had hoped that making our move on the Archmage's office after hours would be the safer bet, since most the students and staff would have already left for home. Unfortunately, Hobo Beard's office shared the same building as the hospital and that meant that no matter the time of the day, there would be people around. Nevertheless, almost everyone with legitimate business here would be concentrated in the hospital itself, in theory giving me free passage to Hobo Beard's office.
I avoid the brightly lit main doors of the hospital proper and begin skirting along the side of the building, looking for the direct entrance to the staff annex. With the artificial core shut off, the few people still out and about simply turn away from the nondescript office drone dressed in a brown blazer and slacks making his way to the staff offices. The image is completed by a large empty leather briefcase that I am carrying.
Unity College looks to be just as well funded as the Academy, with its impressively large and luxurious campus. The buildings may be old, red brick construction, but it had all been refurbished. The hospital itself is a huge building constructed in the gothic style, with carved walls bearing intricate patterns and coupled with a substantial modern extension. Patients and treatment areas are housed in the original historical building itself, while the staff have their offices in the new extension. Makes sense, you want to impress your clients after all. If you got it, flaunt it.
"You sure you could not get anything out of the computer in Hobo Beard's office?" I ask The Voice as I approach the locked door on the extension's side leading to the staff annex and unlock it with the universal security pass.
"Nothing of importance." The Voice confirms, "That is why I need you to perform this break in. It should not be a terribly difficult mission, since the university is hardly a high security area."
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Entering the staff annex, I am met with a staircase leading up to the higher levels of the building. I begin climbing up towards the floor Hobo Beard's office is on. Sixth floor, if I remember correctly from the staff directory I saw online.
"If I am going to cart off anything of importance in this briefcase right here," I query while making my way up the stairs, "wouldn't Hobo Beard notice that his place had been burgled the moment he steps in tomorrow morning?"
"Unfortunate but unavoidable." The Voice rasps, "Its the only way we can get our hands on Archmage Naiberg's research. The important point is to ensure that Archmage Naiberg is unable to trace this burglary back to us."
Grunting in acknowledgement, I open the door to the sixth floor of the staff annex and peek outside. A security guard is patrolling the darkened corridor before me, sweeping his flashlight around in a careless fashion. Bored and careless. That's the best way I can describe it.
"Why does Hobo Beard have his office in the hospital?" I whisper, "Its not as if he is a doctor here."
The Voice rumbles as the security guard walks further down the corridor away from my position, "Access to the hospital facilities. From what I gathered from the files in Archmage Naiberg's computer, his research involves a number of patients being treated here."
"But this is not an actual research facility." I press on, "We wrecked Hobo Beard's lab earlier. Where would he do his actual research when he is not busy poking and prodding the patients?"
"I have no idea." The Voice admits, "Perhaps in the hospital as well? The medical reports Commander Hernandez gave us do confirm that the SOPO guards at the black site did receive treatment here after all."
As the guard wanders off, I make my move and head down the corridor. From The Voice's earlier surveillance of the building, patrols are really lax, the guards relying more heavily on security cameras instead of physical presence to keep out intruders. Good thing for me. With The Voice running interference, security cameras are not going to be a problem. And the less actual patrols there are, the less chance there is for me to be caught.
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The long corridor is flanked on both sides by personal offices, likely for the doctors that work here. I draw the maglite from my coat and snap it on, scrutinizing the name plates on each of the office doors.
"Did you need to bring the revolver and baton as well?" The Voice asks, "It is not as if you are going to be fighting anyone here."
"Just being prepared." I murmur, making my way slowly down the corridor, my ears tracking the sound of the guard's footsteps. The rentacop is still moving away from me, great.
I finally come to a door bearing a name plate that simply declares its occupant as "Archmage". Looking up, I note that Hobo Beard's office looks no different from any of the other offices here. Its not even a corner unit, having been nestled between two neighboring offices that look exactly the same as the one allotted to Hobo Beard, at least based on the exterior. Hobo Beard's office certainly does not look like the lair of a VIP.
It makes sense though, especially if Hobo Beard is not based here most of the time. My heart sinks at this realization. If this place is not Hobo Beard's main office, that meant the chances of something really valuable being stored here are slim. But this address was the only work place lead The Voice could dig up. If we failed to retrieve anything of interest here, we may need to consider either abducting Hobo Beard for a chat or performing a home invasion.
The office's door unlocks under The Voice's influence and I slip in, closing it behind me. While I would still need to be cautious, none of the offices have any windows or openings to the corridor, allowing me to freely use the maglite without fear of detection. Casting the maglite about, I see that the entire work space has been buried in clutter. Files and piles of loose paper are all over the place, covering the table, shelves and chairs, as well as spreading to the floor. The table has a computer on it that had been placed on standby mode. Nothing of worth to be gained from there, according to The Voice. In addition to the junk strewn about, the shelves heave under the weight of various books. A quick check of the spines confirms my suspicion that those books were written by Hobo Beard himself. The only free space in the office is a shabby high backed chair in front of the computer.
"I hope you don't expect me to carry off all this paper with me." I say.
The Voice rasps, "There is a safe under the table. Its contents would be the better choice."
I hear the clunking noise of the safe unlocking and bend down in order to investigate. The safe is a simple cast iron affair with a mechanical lock, no fancy electronics here. Swinging the safe's door open, I find several slim folders and a number of disconnected SSD drives secured within. With a single motion, I sweep the lot up into the briefcase and close the safe back up. I then try examining some of the papers left lying about, but its no use, either its about some mundane shit like patient arrivals or its super technical to the point where I cannot understand the document. It would take me forever to make sense of the clutter strewn about.
"What about the books? Do you need them?" I ask The Voice.
"No." The Voice demurs, "What we are looking for is more than the common knowledge held within those publications."
Well I suppose that's it then. I doubt we can get anything else out of this office, short of actually spending several hours here going through the clutter.
The Voice appears to have come to the same conclusion and announces, "Exit the building and extract. I will go through what you have retrieved back at the hideout."
"No." I say as a sudden inspiration strikes, "There's something else I want to check."
"Which is?" The Voice asks in surprise.
I drift down the corridor like a ghost as I respond, "Hobo Beard did work on some of the patients here didn't he?"
"Lets do a meet and greet."
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affection - quackityhq
af·fec·tion/əˈfekSH(ə)n/noun1.a gentle feeling of fondness or liking.
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