Just as it had on many a night in the past, Darkness fell over the bustling city of El Puerto. Well past midnight, few folks found themselves out and about. Most people up in the wee hours of the morning worked in the service industry, manning twenty-four-hour gas stations or fast food restaurants. The vast majority of those lucky enough to be employed within the well-to-do financial section went home long ago to spend time with a mattress.

It was a quiet and serene time, only broken up by the occasional rev of an engine. The peace of a gentle night gripped El Puerto in a veil of slow sleepiness. Few were exempt to its charms. The relatively vacant streets and low lighting made the perfect habitat for all manner of fiends. As the threat of arrest ever loomed, most slunk to the shadows in a desperate attempt to hide their illicit activities. One, however, conducted business out in the open.

A figure slinked through the darkness. It moved through alleyways and between streetlights. Only splotches of dull moonlight illuminated its motion, and not very well. Skin tight black clothing absorbed what little light swirled around the mysterious individual. Not an inch of skin showed through. Pale blue radiance did not reflect nor splay across the material. If standing perfectly still, this person would appear almost invisible in the pitch dark.

The figure darted into an alley, traversing the narrow span in short order. It stopped at the precipice, however. Pressing itself against the right boundary, it peered around the corner. At the heart of the financial district, buildings of various heights rose in every direction. They dwarfed what structure lay ahead. These high-rises matched it not in area, though. This particular building stretched on for a perhaps excessive span. Round walls and a domed ceiling encompassed more than their fair allotment of land. It stood out like a sore thumb, which suited the figure just fine.

After a moment the figure darted from the alley and across the street. Deft feet laced through lamps and moonbeams. Only passing glints caught a glimpse. Not a single car approached in the meantime. No passersby were present to witness the scene unfolding in the dank silence. It was just the figure, and an undisturbed shroud of night.

At the clip of an Olympic sprinter, the figure dashed onto the driveway of the circular building. The hot top which normally permitted both visitors and important employees was barren for the moment—its occupants having long exchanged work for a mattress. As such, the figure had free reign of the space. It darted around the right side of the structure.

At roughly the perfect center, it found what appeared to be a loading dock. A section of the circle had been cut away to allow a corrugated metal door to sit in a level spot. Immediately to its right was a normal door which allowed for personnel access. The space between the dock and the next building was not big enough for permit a very large vehicle. It likely was used for delivering mail and minor loads of various materials. The entire design seemed somewhat inefficient, but the figure was not there to critique the architecture.

It walked up to the personnel door. From an unseen pocket, the suspicious person produced two items: a paper thin piece of hard plastic and a slim, handheld device. It stood idle for a moment, staring at the latter object, seeming impatient by the body language alone. Its stance cocked to one side. Anxious eyes peered in all directions. This was taking too long.

After what seemed like forever—but in reality was only a few seconds—a small red light on the larger device lit up. Promptly, the figure shoved the flat plastic rectangle into the bottom of the device. The former disappeared for a second, engulfed completely. The red light changed over to green, and the figure separated the two pieces, pocketing the bigger one.

The figure stepped to within easy arm's reach of the door. It was a white painted metal panel with a long lever knob. To the right was a simple card reader, no more than a metal slide with a little blue light in the bottom starboard corner. The figure slid the plastic rectangle through it. The light flashed a few times, accompanied by just as many soft beeps. A lock audibly unlatched. The moment it did, the figure slipped inside.

Once through, it stopped to take in its new surroundings. This was obviously a storage room. Random pieces of electronic junk adorned shelves all the way up to the ceiling. They shared the space with many closed boxes, some of which likely were empty. Some things were of more utilitarian use, though, like paper towels, plastic utensils, reams of paper, and most things you'd find in a normal office building. For such a large facility, this was a rather small room.

The figure wasted little time on sightseeing. It moved through a door at the opposite end of the room. This led, predictably, to a hallway. The fluorescent lights were off, and there were no windows to speak of. Perfect darkness shrouded the area. Most people wouldn't be able to take three steps without tripping over themselves, yet the figure continued on without problem.

It ran along the hallway, but for only a short distance before skidding to a stop in front of a door on the left-hand side. It passed the card through another reader, identical to the one outside, and quickly slid into the room. It didn't actually enter, though, instead remaining pressed flat against the other side, one hand on the knob.

There it stayed, for a moment. Motionless, barely breathing, it waited just a step away from the hall. The air was still, yet electricity coursed through the atmosphere. Moments blinked by, and the figure waited, poised and ready to set out once again. But it wouldn't have to stay for long. After not even ten seconds, it once again sprinted out into the hallway, closing the door behind.

The operation resumed as if nothing ever happened. The figure accelerated again to a full-out run. Up ahead, the hallway intersected another at a T-shaped junction. At this, the obviously unwelcome intruder hooked a swift right, losing little in the ways of speed and coordination to execute the maneuver.

Before long, the suspicious person once again skated behind a door. Thus began another waiting period. The person remained perfectly still, divided from the hall by a hollow piece of metal. A clock inside the room ticked away, an ominous reminder of a tight schedule. The thing only made it through a few repetitions before the figure was out into the corridor.

At another junction up ahead, it kept on straight. The building had been built on a sort of rough grid structure. Hallways were placed at relatively even intervals, while rooms designed for specific purposes filled the volume between. This was meant for easy navigation by staff, but it also helped along anyone who may wish to conduct extracurricular activities.

From here on, a pattern was established. The intruder would dash through the hallways for short spans of time, only to take cover behind a nearby door. The running periods were of inconsistent lengths, dependent largely on the availability of hiding spots. One constant, however, was the speed with which this person moved. They sprinted around the narrow halls at a velocity even world-class athletes would envy. It never skipped a step, never mistimed a turn or opening of a door. Not a hair was out of place.

As time wore on, the figure ended up traversing most of the facility's length; which, at such considerable speed, didn't take long at all. There had been no hitches so far, no lingering employees hiding in the dark to get that last bit of research done. It was almost too easy, but the figure knew not to argue with turns of good fortune.

It was a shame, really. This was some of its best work yet. Too bad no one would ever get to see it. But, this job required a certain degree of discretion. Carelessness would only result in inescapable consequences. It would have to go unnoticed. Such was preferable to the alternative, even if sneaking around like this wasn't quite as fun.

Eventually, the figure came across yet another hallway, but this one was much different from the others. Firstly, it was a complete dead end. No other passages intersected it. There weren't many doors, either. The panels were straight metal instead of concrete, unbroken by any obstruction. The only thing of note was a door at the very end, a prominent red light above it. It had no labels nor discerning marks otherwise, instead simply standing sentinel over the corridor.

The figure did not head immediately for this door, but instead ran past the hall completely. It ducked into a nearby door, camouflaging in much the same way it had before. It was discernibly tense, this time. Gloved fingers tapped against the doorknob. Its head bobbed slightly up and down, counting the seconds with excruciating punctuality. It was waiting for something, the perfect time to strike.

That phase would come sooner, rather than later. After the ninth count, the figure zoomed back into the hallway, the door slamming in its wake. It raced down the solitary pass in record time. Without an ounce of wasted energy, it passed the same card from before through a reader right of the sealed door. It opened and the figure vanished within.

For all the security, this room was rather simple. It was a small and freezing cold square. A pair of air conditioning units blew frigid air. The walls were completely barren sheets of non-reflective metal. A security camera hung on the opposite wall, but it showed no signs of life. Only one thing occupied the floor, a tall server tower full of lights and components.

The figure made a b-line for the lonely object. Before even arriving, it pulled out a USB stick from a pocket, the same one from which the earlier gadgets originated. The figure inserted it into a port on the tower, seeming to choose one at random. A pressed button atop the stick doubled as an orange LED to indicate the thing was connected.

The air fell stagnant. The figure stood at the ready, hand on the drive just behind its light. Time seemed to almost slow down. The seconds were like hours. With every one which fell away, so too did the chances of success. A single missed moment could mean the difference between victory and defeat, potentially life and death. Their passing was torture, a maddening anxiety to conquer lesser beings.

Thankfully for the figure's sanity, the wait here would be a short one. Only a few clock ticks after the USB's light came on, it went out. The moment it did—at visibly the same time—the figure yanked it out and hastened back through the way it had entered. The intruder went straight for the same room it had hid in before entering the secure server area.

Again it waited, but this time with an even heartbeat. The hard part was finally over. The last task was to get out undetected, and that would provide little in the way of challenge. It got in without a hitch. Out was always the harder direction, but in this case it mattered not. After everything which just happened, the rest was easy in comparison.

…

As the sun set, so did it rise once again over El Puerto, Texas. Birds—most of them seagulls—sang praises up to the new day, welcoming both the heat and illumination from a brilliant yellow sun. The great star hung low in the sky, barely having cleared the horizon. The nighttime chill had yet to burn off. A wispy fog hung around streetlights and sidewalks, swirling in the slight breeze.

Though the sun played alarm clock to most manner of wildlife, the city itself woke up long before it came to beckon. Well prior to the dawn cars traversed her streets, people walked her concrete pathways. Though, their volumes increased dramatically after the first sunbeams shone through cold skyscrapers.

The smells of overpriced coffee and cheap donuts filled the air. Folks shuffled down cracked concrete or puttered along in lumbering motor vehicles. Despite the activity, the town seemed calm in the moments between rush hours, when gridlock dominated the streets. Though, at this point, most people weren't quite awake enough to be irritable. For all intents and purposes, it was a wonderful morning.

But for some, the great atmosphere outside could only be a disconnected backdrop against more dire situations. Not everyone enjoyed the fresh air and lingering freeze. Some people never even got to see the sun rise.

Many such individuals found themselves in such a state on this particular occasion. Several police cruisers and unmarked vehicles congregated in the front lot of a circular, domed building. Most were simple sedans, but a few sport-utility vehicles dotted the space. There even was one motorcycle; its red and black finish caught the light in a way both sharp and intimidating. Scattered officers were interspersed among the metal jungle.

Most were inside, though. They combed through the manicured hallways, searching for evidence in various ways. Some spoke with employees or compared notes with each other. A few even wandered the spaces alone. They weren't all uniformed officers, either. A few detectives and higher-ranking officials dotted their ranks. A private investigator made her way around the facility, though her clipboard waggling amounted to little. Every pair of eyes helped, and plenty looked upon this case.

Somewhat secluded in the building's west side, a small collection gathered in a modest executive office. Old-fashioned green carpet covered what would have been just a metal-tiled floor. A cozy landscape painting flanked the closed door. Haphazard pages lay scattered atop a heavy mahogany desk. A man—bent over in a white lab coat—flipped idly through them. His actions revealed a nameplate on the desk. Gold letters atop a black background spelled out the words Dr. Bernard Belmont, CEO.

The man set the papers down with a pronounced sigh. He scratched at a tired eye, agitating the dark bags beneath. There was silence in the room, both uncomfortable and poignant. No one really wanted to be there, and the tension of the morning made it even worse.

"Can we go over exactly what happened again?" Requested the man, slowly donning his glasses.

"I've already told you three times, Mr. Belmont," responded another male figure in the room. He had the look of a cop about him, but dressed in more business-casual attire. He wore a beige jacket, brown shirt, and darker slacks, all of which contrasted brilliantly with the African-American color of his skin.

"Just one more time, please, detective." implored Bernard, making gentle hand gestures as if to defuse the situation.

The detective gave a quick, exasperated glance to the two people standing behind him. One of them was a haggard looking Elliot, who had been one of the first people to arrive on the scene. The other was Ayda, dressed in—of all things—the burgundy blazer and white skirt of her school uniform. She'd just arrived about twenty minutes ago. With a shrug from the latter occupant, the detective flipped back through his red memo book.

"At 1:26 AM this morning, your surveillance systems logged a total system failure. The failsafe runtimes cycled through in the maximum allotment of thirty seconds and the cameras came back on, only to be taken down again roughly ten seconds later. This pattern continued until when, at 1:32 AM, an unauthorized person briefly made a connection with your secure top-secret research and development servers. At 1:38 AM, your systems recovered completely. There were no further problems after that. The only evidence anyone was ever here is the entry in your system logs. There are no fingerprints, broken materials, anything."

This recitation of the day's findings was almost word-for-word identical to the last one. Bernard listened to the whole thing with hunched shoulders, palms planted flat against the top of his desk. When it finished, he clenched a sheet of paper tightly in a shaking fist. His breaths were weighty and slow, their resonance bouncing off the metal walls. Beads of sweat muddied his forehead. A black aura seemed to rise from his arched back. He did not respond for several seconds after the detective finished, electing instead to stew in his own fury.

"Thank you, detective," he said finally. "You've been… very helpful with the investigation."

"We're doing everything we can for you, but I'm afraid there isn't a lot to go on." The detective thumbed through his notes. "Right now, there isn't even any evidence anything was actually taken and—"

"Thank you, detective," Bernard harshly cut him off. "I'm sure you will continue to do your best." He took his glasses off again, but this time placed them on the desk. "Can I…" his voice shook. "Can I have a moment alone, please? I need to process all of this."

"Of course," the detective said. He placed his memo book in an interior jacked pocket, and led the way from the room. Elliot followed behind him, scratching the back of his tired head.

Ayda fell in with them, but hesitated at the doorway. She spared a backward glance for Bernard. He slumped down in his chair. Elbows on the desk, he cradled his face in his hands. A shuttering breath rocked his entire upper-body. Ayda gave him a gentle look, but departed out of respect for his wishes.

This place was like a second home to him, a third child, in a strange way. She couldn't even imagine what he was going through. Newspapers would probably call this the "Great Heist at Belmont International," but from Bernard's perspective, it was nothing but terrible.

Once outside the room, and with the door closed, the detective turned right, on his way toward the lobby. Elliot made a move to follow him, but only made it a single step before a harsh tug at his collar pulled him the other way. Ayda dragged him in the opposite direction, away from the scene and the detective.

"Nope, you're coming with me," she said.

"Alright, alright! Don't pull me." Elliot struggled against her grip. Feeble fingers attempted to pry hers away. He did not escape until allowed to go.

Once free, Elliot followed close behind the teenager. She led with a determined gait, eyes locked forward and focused on whatever her destination might be. Ayda set a brisk pace, somewhere between a walk and a proper jog, which Elliot only kept up with by merit of his longer legs. Something set a fire underneath her, and she wouldn't stop until it was extinguished.

The two of them traversed the numerous, labyrinthine halls of the Belmont International Research and Development Labs. In contrast to the front portions of the building, this area was rather barren. There were occasional officers or employees, but most people focused on where the action was. Bernard put his office in this unpopular area specifically because it rarely hosted a crowd. Even with all the commotion on a day like this, that property was no different.

In this case, it was a great boon. Ayda and Elliot could meet without the threat of interruption. She led him to the closest break room, which was of a reasonable distance away. She opened up the gray door and gestured for Elliot to enter. He looked into the room, at her, and then back again before complying. The girl followed directly behind, closing the door after herself stepping in.

This break room was about the same as any others, a station with cabinets and a sink along the east wall, a T.V hanging in the far left corner, and a long table with many chairs in the middle. Elliot walked as close to the middle as he could with the surface blocking his path.

"Alright, what do you know," Ayda began the moment the door closed behind her. Elliot hesitated for a moment, taken aback by the sudden grilling. Surprise passed after a few seconds, and he sighed.

"Not much more than the detective, I'm afraid," he said. Ayda walked over to him. "Someone hacked our security system from outside, while someone else snuck in and accessed our R&D server."

"Hold on, someone else?" Ayda interjected. "You think there were two people?"

"Yeah, there must've been," Elliot nodded. "There's no way one person could hack our security, scramble their signal, cover their tracks, and time it perfectly with the failsafe, all while dodging the cameras. It's just too much."

"Well, that certainly complicates things," Ayda said. "So, you don't know anything else?"

"No, I'm sorry," denied the slightly older man. "What worries me more, though, is the way they went about it."

"What do you mean?"

"Here, take a look," Elliot said, pulling out his tablet which Ayda didn't even noticed he had until right then.

She stood behind him, peering around his left arm. Elliot punched a few icons, eventually bringing up the security feed. Multiple small screens crisscrossed the touchscreen. This wasn't anywhere near the total amount of cameras in the building, just a small sample. The timestamp at the bottom put this particular recording at just before the first breach.

"Just like the detective said," Elliot began, "at 1:26 our security cameras all go out at exactly the same time." He played a bit of the video. As he said, the moment the time clicked over to the right moment, every single feed went black.

"Thirty seconds later they come back on. That's more than enough time for someone to get in but, as you can see, there's no one at all." Elliot skipped ahead to the appropriate time. All at once, the camera recordings activated again. None of them showed anything out of the ordinary.

"That same thing keeps happening the entire time." Elliot showed off a few more identical instants, just to prove this fact. At no point did any of them display anything suspicious or out of place. "Whoever did this not only knew where our top secret server is, but how to hide from all of our cameras along the way."

"They know the layout," Ayda ascertained on her own. "Do you think it was a former employee?"

"Maybe. It's hard to say," The man shrugged. "Here, take a look at this."

Elliot switched feeds and allowed two specific views to dominate the tablet, split by a vertical line in the middle. One was of the hall leading to the violated server, and another saw the inside the room itself. Both were devoid of life.

"This is just before our systems logged an unauthorized access. There's still nothing. If we fast forward to after the cameras turn off and on, we still can't see anyone. That means someone broke into the room, downloaded whatever it was they wanted, and left all within thirty seconds."

"Is that bad?" Ayda asked.

"Yes, very," answered Elliot. A glance at Ayda's twisted expression betrayed a lack of understanding. "Okay, let me explain. Everything on that server is multiple terabytes in size, yet whoever this was not only copied what they were after in just seconds, but also covered their tracks so we can't tell what they accessed. NASA doesn't even have anything that fast."

"So, basically we're dealing with James fucking Bond. Great." Ayda sighed and stepped away. She shook her head.

A short pause fell over the room, as both took in the gravity of the situation. Technology even Elliot didn't understand certainly put Ayda on edge. He was supposed to be the smart one. How could Ayda hope to defeat an opponent he couldn't wrap his head around?

And that wasn't even accounting for the physical aspect of this. The entire intrusion was over and done with in just twelve minutes. Whoever pulled it off must've been incredibly fast. Tire tracks would have left behind tracks for investigators to follow. The culprit, then, did all of this on foot. Ayda could only manage faster speeds by propelling herself around on blasts.

Ayda crossed her arms. Unknowns like these made her uncomfortable, to say the least. But Elliot was there to snap her out of it.

"What do you want to do about it?" He asked after the quiet moment.

"I hate to say it, but I don't think there's anything we can do," admitted Ayda. "You said yourself there's no way to figure out who did this?"

"No, not right now. I have no idea what computer accessed our system from the outside, or where it was at the time."

"Then that's that," Ayda said with a sense of finality. "There's no sense wasting time on this if we don't know who to go after. Right now, I think our focus should be on dealing with Tahoe and the Triad."

"No, I agree. They're definitely a bigger problem. I just hope this doesn't resurface later."

"We'll take care of it if it does," Ayda said with confidence. "I'd just rather fight the enemies I can see, for right now."

"And I'm completely on board with that."

Ayda glanced at her watch. "I really should get back to school, before I miss anything." She started toward the exit. "Don't let anyone else break in while I'm gone."

"Don't worry, I've got it under control. Lockdown, and shit," Elliot joked back.

Ayda didn't respond, only closed the door behind her and begin on her way toward the lobby. It wasn't even lunchtime yet, and this day had already been far too eventful for her liking. She'd have to go easy during the night's patrol, or else risk an aneurism.