As Harry passed through the door to the outer office, he was confronted with a rather unexpected sight. Jessica Smith was lying on the desk, largely unclothed, stretched out in a most unmistakable manner toward Yuri, who was standing naked before her, engaged in passionate labor. Judging by his powerful movements, which made the table tremble, and the loud and almost demanding cheers of the lady in front of him, the finale of this play, so unusual for such a place, seemed to be within reach. It was obvious to Harry that now was not the time to interrupt Yuri in his intense efforts. He quickly left the outer office through the door and stepped out into the hallway. The door to Dr. Malcom's office, however, was still wide open. Moments later, Abigail and Kelly, lured by this soundscape of passionate moaning, poked their heads into the outer office to see what was going on.
"We, um... are the TRAP agency, by the way. This is our colleague, Mr. Yuri Sokolov," Abigail explained to Kelly, gesturing quickly at Yuri and then clearing her throat in embarrassment. Malcom, on the other hand, stared at the scene in disbelief.
"What exactly does your agency do...?" she asked, confused.
"We call ourselves the agency for special cases. Actually, you can hire us for almost anything," Abigail replied, almost drowned out by the now very loud spectacle. The typewriter, along with some other paraphernalia, fell with a crash from the misappropriated table.
"Yes, I can see that," Kelly nodded, looking Abigail straight in the eye again, causing Abigail to blush slightly with embarrassment at the almost inexplicable situation.
"M-My real n-name is Abigail Lindsay," the computer specialist stammered. "I-I have another business card hidden in a secret compartment of my purse, I'll give it to you right now so you can contact us..." At the same time she scolded herself. What was she thinking? She had wanted to distract herself from this situation, any way she could.
"Okay," Kelly nodded unexpectedly.
"What's going on out there? Who's moaning so loudly? Is someone in need of medical attention, is everything okay?" asked Yanny worriedly from the background as she unplugged the cable from the back of her head. Then she headed for the door. Abigail jumped up in alarm and hurriedly led Yanny back.
"No, no, nono, everything's fine here, everything's fine!" she declared, waving her arms and closing the door with a quick motion. Abigail knew that Yanny would of course be able to put what she had seen into a factual context. However, she was still quite clueless about some things and would naturally ask many questions afterwards, as it suited her inquisitive nature. Perhaps it was a little too early for the cyborg, who was only a few months old, to immerse herself in all facets of human life. After all, she still seemed a bit awkward in everyday interactions from time to time, doing things or asking questions that one would never have expected from her appearance alone.
"Aby, you're all red and sweaty. Are you sure you're okay?" Yanny asked again.
"And... who or what exactly are you, if you don't mind me asking?" Kelly asked Yanny directly. The shock that this young woman had been able to bypass all of her company's security locks with such playful ease, and even gain access to the internal systems without any effort, still ran deep. Yanny hesitated to answer, glancing at Abigail. The computer specialist sighed, then nodded.
Harry entered Spencer's office without further ado. Behind the desk sat a thin man of about sixty with a mustache and a suit that looked a bit old-fashioned, like a cross between a business suit and baroque clothing. Definitely not a sight you saw every day. His middle parting was tightly combed with pomade, and he wore reading glasses with extremely narrow lenses on his nose, over the rims of which he now watched Harry coming in skeptically. Apparently he had just been working his way through an important file. The sound of the door opening had caused a waist-high black Great Dane with short, shiny fur to rise up beside its master. The dog eyed Harry with equal suspicion. It wore a black leather collar with chrome spikes around its neck.
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"Why are you disturbing me? Are you lost? I don't recall having an appointment at this hour," the executive snapped.
"Flavio Spencer?" Harry asked as if he were a messenger delivering a package.
"That's me, and now get out-" Spencer began. Harry, however, walked right up to him and began to circle the desk so that he would meet the dog first. He remembered what he had learned about fighting guard dogs. If he made a mistake now and was too slow, it could be fatal for him.
"That's fantastic, because I have a little something for you here," he interrupted Spencer. The dog immediately started to growl when Harry didn't stop moving.
"I didn't order anything, how dare you!" Spencer roared indignantly. Harry was already standing in front of the Great Dane, who was now baring his teeth and growling even louder. The agent went straight for him. The dog was too well trained to bark unnecessarily. Realizing that the intruder would not stop before its master, it lunged at Harry with its mouth open. He, in turn, evaded it with a quick, twisting motion. His bare hands leapt out and grabbed the Great Dane's collar by the neck. He grabbed the collar and yanked it toward him with all his strength, pulling as hard as he could to cut off the dog's air. The spikes of the collar dug into his palms, something he could not prevent at the moment. The dog's jaws snapped open again and again with the ghastly clack of a bear trap. Harry knew there was nothing the animal could do about it. It was simply doing what it was trained to do. It was protecting a criminal. There was no turning back now. Harry was furious, pulling the collar tighter and tighter. As the Great Dane tried desperately to break free, scraping the ground with its legs, it finally bit its own tongue as it snapped shut, unable to keep it in its mouth due to the pressure on its neck. Harry felt no pain from the adrenaline as the spikes of the collar dug deep into one of his hands and his own blood was already dripping onto the animal's neck. Spencer, on the other hand, screamed and cursed at Harry. Then he opened a flap on his desk and pressed a large red button.
"Security will be here soon to put an end to you lunatic!" he yelled. Harry, on the other hand, noticed the dog's strength dwindling from lack of oxygen. The moment had come. He reached under the animal's neck with his right hand, grabbed its head and snapped its neck with a quick twist. The Great Dane fell lifelessly to the ground. Spencer stared at Harry in growing panic.
"I'm here to bring greetings..." Harry said, slowly walking over to the POWER's second-in-command, who was now trying to stumble to safety, at least temporarily, in the corner of the room.
"What do you want from me!!!" Spencer cried desperately.
"I bring greetings from the Aon-I. From the innocents who died in the looting. From the innocents who were turned into monsters by the radioactive waste. From the innocents who died in the subway stations at the hands of those same monsters..." Harry said coldly, pulling a dagger out of a holster on his lower right leg, hidden beneath the leg of his pants, with a grasp of his bloody hand.
"I... I have money, I can pay you..." Spencer stammered. Harry, now standing directly in front of the deputy, threw a left hook into his opponent's face without warning. A direct hit. A front tooth flew straight into the window and fell to the carpet. Then he grabbed the monster's neck with the same left and pinned him against the wall.
"I bring greetings... from hell..." Harry growled, ramming the dagger into his stomach as far as it would go with his right hand. Spencer's eyes froze in the face of death.
"Security..." he croaked in a slowly choking voice.
"On break right now," Harry growled again, twisting the blade around its axis in his stomach and then pulling it up and out with a jerk, inflicting a major wound on the deputy that he might very well feel, but which also made it impossible to save his life at the last second. His internal organs were now too damaged. Then he dropped the dagger on the floor with Spencer, turned and slowly walked out of the office. His hands were shaking. The cleaning staff would curse him, that much was certain.