Compared to the back alley establishments I’d been kicking over, the Oceanio Group Factory was a veritable fortress. For good reason, too. The Othea World Government had a stake in their output, meaning I was potentially biting some rather important hands. Not that it should stop them feeding, though. Goldarch had a group of the factories, and their efforts spun across the continent, as far as I knew.
The goal here was just to cut out a tumor that had the potential to poison the whole. There were clearly some with more level heads in the area if they wanted the man ousted for his potentially damaging or criminal practises. Level enough to hire a hitman, for whatever that was worth. Sometimes red tape just needed someone with a sharper pair of scissors to cut through.
Under the cover of darkness, I flicked the engine off and rolled the bike into a side alley. Factory would be difficult enough to breach without sliding up to the front gates sounding like a dragon choking on a cluster bomb. If there was one nice thing I could say about my old beater, it was that it knew when to shut the hell up.
On initial viewing, it didn't seem to be that well guarded, considering one of my contemporaries had tried and failed to get at the target recently. Carpark was in front of the main factory building - an efficient if not imposing structure that was all sharp edges with no flourish. Their name across the front in neon green. Oceano Plus - the symbol affixed at the end to signify health and vitality. Well, for one person, it would be the opposite tonight.
The large carpark had one entrance that was gated off - a single enclosed booth that held a human employee ready and willing to vet anyone going in or out. Bars that could be raised if necessary checks were met to allow vehicles in. Difficult to approach. Sometimes guards would be tired and bored at night, other times they'd be pumped with drugs or have some tech that kept them alert during working hours. Seemed cruel on the surface, but we each made credits the way that we were able.
Not his fault he was the blockade to my entrance on this night, and I wasn't about to put a slug through his head for the unlucky coincidence.
The walls surrounding the factory were a good twenty feet tall and topped with both spikes and razor wire. Factories with connections to deep pockets like this one produced some expensive things, and the city had no lack of criminals or villains willing to risk it all to grab at something to give them an edge in life. Circling the compound led me to the back entrance, where the lorries or heavier transport would drop off or pick up materials. A thick metal gate barred this entryway, shuttered off even higher than the adjacent walls.
Neither option seemed willing to allow me easy access. My aura that disabled cameras and phone signals was reasonably short range, so approaching the building from a distance would give them a heads up. Any loud noise would also draw attention in short order. I hadn't been able to get a good angle to see how many cars remained in the carpark at this hour, but I assumed it would be a few working overtime and whatever security staff that had on tonight.
It wasn’t just warm bodies I’d have to worry about, either. Part of the reason for the two mags of Tazer shells was for the likelihood of robotic opposition. Automatic sentries were common these days, and the Oceano Group wouldn’t skimp on having some wherever they could. Especially with another Agent failing at some point. Target himself would have even more eyes on him.
Quite the puzzle.
Still, I had a reputation to uphold. Even if an edge lord with a shotgun-arm didn’t seem like the best fit for such a covert operation. By instinct, I slunk into the shadow beside the building over as a vehicle approached. Crouched down and tried to blend in with the discarded boxes stacked up here to decay. Given my usual attire and apparent lack of hygiene, it wasn’t too difficult to do.
A large truck slowly hummed by. Something electric or otherwise powered, by the lack of overt noise it generated. Bright headlights scoured the street as it passed me.
Goldarch City Waste Disposal.
Wasn’t like me to look a gift horse in the mouth. I skirted from my hiding place as it chugged slowly towards the corner of the factory wall. Given the speed, it looked to be automated rather than having an active driver. Pacing alongside to meet it, I tried to keep to the darker areas of the sidewalk. Most lights were dimmed at this point at night - at least in this district where business hours were long over.
I looked around the corner, and the vehicle slowed to a stop beside a pair of dumpsters. Sensors scanned them and it began the process of extending prongs to fit the wide containers.
It was time.
My pace increased, and I withdrew an EMP grenade from my belt. After having some actual time to put my eyes over them, it turned out that they had a dial to determine how powerful the blast would be. Might have been nicer to know before I gave myself and the cop a headache, but we lived and learned. Twisted this one to the lowest setting.
A quick flick of my wrist and it clattered across the ground and slid beneath the vehicle.
Just as it burst, I was leaping atop the dumpsters. Turned and jumped towards the side of the vehicle. Gun-arm made climbing on top awkward, but thanks to a handy foothold on one of the sensors, I pushed myself up.
Now for the less fun part.
I tried not to think about it. A foolish action, in retrospect, most likely. Two steps back across the buckling metal plates of the top of the trash van, and then I hefted myself forward. The gap over the spikes and razor wire was trouble enough, but I had the confidence to clear it.
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It was the fall on the other side that had more risk to it. I hit the ground and rolled several times, pain flaring up my ankles. Continued the movement until I was up against the shadowed wall, flattening myself and holding my breath.
The pain slowly abated as the stims gave me a hand. Nothing broken, but they’d be complaining loudly tomorrow. Exhaled slowly, my re-breather rattling as one of the filters spun around. From back outside the compound, the hum of the vehicle started back up and it continued its movements as if nothing had happened.
A short outage shouldn’t worry their controllers back at base. They’d blame it on finicky tech or, hells, perhaps they’d even be sleeping through their watch.
An alarm hadn’t been raised at my current position, so I allowed myself to believe I was currently undetected. Congratulated myself for not verbalizing the pain of my landing even though I could do that now… hmm. The thought of how often I got injured during a contract sloshed around in my mind. Hand went up, and I switched the vocalizer to the off position.
Back up to my feet, I circled slowly to the back of the building, until I found it - a side door. Wouldn’t do me very well to stroll through reception. Eyes darted to the side as movement flashed in my peripheral. Down near the corner, flashlights. Still quite far, but it put a timer on me gaining entry.
I looked over the metal doorway that was preventing me access. Digital pad on the side that required a five-digit password and the swipe of a security card. I had neither. Back entrance to a factory, though… I ran my finger down the seam on the hinge side. Not exactly well maintained. A quick scan of the floor and the amount of discarded smoking paraphernalia and slight discoloration of the tiles on the floor told me it saw a lot of use. Maybe even propped open during the day, especially in warmer weather.
Hand to my toolkit, I brought out a small tube. Paste that I allowed it to excrete down on the hinges. Something akin to plastic explosives, but more like a decay accelerant. A quick spray to activate it from a similarly sized bottle and the soft fizzing noise was the only thing that matched the rising sound of my heart in my head.
Glanced over to my peripheral and something had moved around the corner now. An automaton that was slowly making its way toward my direction. My new goggle lense switched from the pale No Threat to a solid number. Five. Not sure what that meant at present, and didn’t care to find out.
I pressed my weight into the door, not only to hide my silhouette, but to pry the door open. The magic stuff only worked if the metal had seen enough wear and tear already, otherwise I'd just be a sitting duck.
As the stomping sound of robotic feet grew in volume, the door started to move. Sliding slowly away from the opposite side intended, I gradually bent it until I could squeeze through - the previous bindings keeping it in placed rusted and near melting away. Any alarm or lock remained in place, and I was careful not to break or trip them by being rough. Once in the darkness of the interior, I pressed the broken barricade back into place. A third tool - a welding device - quickly held the door in position visually, even if it would no longer be functional.
Might need to escape this way.
I held steady, frozen, as the footsteps of the robotic guard neared. Held my breath, gun-arm up just in case. A few seconds where it felt as though it was just stomping up and down in front of my position… before the sound started to fade.
Inside the perimeter, and now inside the factory itself. Too early for fireworks.
I caught the normal shell as I ejected it, to replace back in the drum. Swapped to a Tazer mag. Good for innocents and automatons alike. Drum could come back out to play once I’d screwed everything up and had to blast my way out.
Seemed I was in a stairwell. The air here had an odd tinge to it. Like metal shavings, or the off-cuts of what was being processed down at this level. No lighting where I stood, but I could see the plain brickwork had its fair share of dust and grime that had been collected over years. A doorway slightly further past the stairs probably went out onto the factory floor.
My target was a researcher, so would be in the higher floors. I took to the stairs, my ankles only protesting a little. Perhaps I should have given a little more thought about how I would also escape this place.
Up to the next floor, and I was greeted by a dim light highlighting a handy board telling me what was on each level of the factory.
Ground floor was the factory proper. Processing. The door to my side led to Finishing and Packaging. Next one up was Offices and Staff areas. Top floor was Research Department and Management Offices.
Looked like I had a few more stairs to climb. I looked at the security camera that was giving me a blank stare. Automatons weren’t great with steps, so I should be able to get to the top floor without issue. A glance at the stairs leading up and I was glad I had switched my vocalizer off.
I wondered what Roxy would think of this contract, and then wondered why that thought had even entered my mind. While she didn’t seem to be a paragon of virtue, with her so close at home, it felt as though I was under more scrutiny in my work. Yeah, that was probably it.
Every two sets of stairs there was a door leading to the next floor. Small grated window in each, which I cautiously avoided. Started to question how my predecessor here had died. Probably a mistake to even think out into the world. Now I’d find out.
As I ascended to the top floor, I noted that it was better lit. Someone was home. I doubted they used this back entrance - it seemed to be something more like a fire exit than anything useful, especially for the suits up top.
Research Department & Management.
Top floor, but there was a further staircase that went up to the roof. Part of me pegged that as a potential avenue of retreat, although my ankles thought me foolhardy.
Door ahead of me was almost a mirror of the one leading into the factory. Keypad and somewhere to swipe a card. No window, but a sign across it that said Employees Only.
What had me frozen in place, however, was the fact that the door was already open slightly.
Ajar barely an inch. Someone had… been careless in closing it properly? As much as I knew how sloppy people could be, it irked me. Drew the hairs up on the back of my neck where my vocalizer was affixed.
Luck was something to be wary of.
I stepped forward up to it and listened.
A slight hum that was possibly computers in the distance. Otherwise, nothing truly notable. No voices or the clanking of automatons. Suspicious.
My left hand went up and rested against the handle, part of me expecting to get an electric shock or set an alarm of just with the brief contact.
Nothing changed, other than my rising heartbeat and the rhythmic breathing through my filters. Stims allowed me a brief wash of nanites to calm me. There, I was ready now.
It was time.
I pushed the door forward, ready to bring my gun-arm up.
There was an almost immediate clang, as the door moved two inches before striking something metallic. My right eye twitched.
Red light bloomed and washed around the corridor beyond, as the automaton standing guard in front of the door woke up and turned to see what had jostled it.
Threat Level 8, my lense told me.