Damien pushed open the glass door, running outside before vomiting on the pavement. He coughed up as he wiped his mouth with the inside of his sleeve, attempting to reduce the stain on his white button-up. His vision was blurry, seeing afterimages of everything as the world spun. He heard muffled voices around him, not having the clarity to make out anything.

"Quite the spectacle, Damien," came the voice, dripping with a mixture of amusement and disdain

Damien's eyes strained as he tried to focus on the silhouette in his vision, he squinted to make out the image: a woman, a bit shorter than himself, with clearly dyed green hair, glistening under the moonlight. She wore a dark, tailored suit, radiating confidence. Damien presented concern; this stranger knew his name. He opened his mouth, his breath reeking of wine as he asked, "Who are you, and how do you know my name?"

She presented a grin as she put a hand to her chest and said with a tone that hinted at knowledge, "Name's Juliet, and I just wanted to talk."

Damien looked at Juliet with a blank expression; whether he was naive or the wine clouded his judgment, he entertained the idea and replied with a neutral tone, "Sure. what do you want."

Juliet leaned against the wall next to him, glancing over to him with a slight grin, before inquiring, "So, Damien. I need help with something."

"You keep speaking to me as if we're friends; I just met you lady. . . " he told her bluntly before continuing, "I have no incentive to help you. I'll chat, but that's the extent of my cares."

Juliet was unphased by his statement, waiting a moment before her whole mood shifted, and she suddenly looked at him with a slight frown, "Well, it'd be a shame if what happened at the bar last night got out."

Damien's collected persona shattered instantly as he turned to her and said in a hushed tone, "How do you know about that? No one was there."

"Need I remind you that you could go to prison for up to twenty years, and I think I could get that higher, so give me the time of day," she told him, her attitude unwavering; she had entangled Damien in her web and forced him to play her game.

Damien bit his upper lip, and he obliged. He developed the conversation and asked her with a hint of aggression in his voice, "So what now? You're gonna blackmail me for my money, aren't you."

She shook her head; reaching into her bag, she took out her workpad and began swiping on it before her expression changed, and she cleared her throat. She began explaining, "It's simple, really. I need you to get me some blueprints. There's a lady in there. I'll show you her in a moment. But I need you to get blueprints out of her. They should be stored in her penthouse; she lives at QH Elite."

"You're sending me to my grave; if I attempt to break into the QH, I'll surely be arrested," he said to her, anger and annoyance developing in his posture and attitude.

Juliet shook her head, and she had something else in mind and told Damien her plan, "I thought you should charm her for the night and get taken back to her place; you're right when you say you would be arrested; that place has Orion providing security."

Damien scowled, his disapproval evident, but he couldn't deny the truth in Juliet's words. With a resigned sigh, he nodded and turned back to Amery; he had just been in there a few minutes ago, drinking carefree; now he had to go charm a woman in his drunken state.

 Juliet ushered him in and grabbed his shoulder, pointing at a short brunette, overdressed for the occasion yet still matching the energy of the banquet. Juliet's eyebrows lowered as she squinted, confirming the lady's identity before whispering to Damien, "That's the girl; once you finish the gig, call me." before leaving, they exchanged numbers. 

She left the banquet before walking down a staircase and entering the subway, leaving Damien to his devices. Damien inhaled deeply,  focusing on the girl through the stained glass panes and watching her whereabouts. While staring through the window, he felt something graze his right thigh, and he turned, seeing nothing there. He checked himself over, fixing his hair, adjusting his tie, and double-checking himself in the reflection of the glass. He pushed open the door to the banquet and entered the building.

He poured himself a glass of wine before searching for her. He quickly found her, having kept an eye on her before entering, then he began to walk towards her. Damien inquired as he approached her, "Hey, how are you?" 

The brunette's attention was pulled from the glass of wine, and she met her gaze with Damien, providing a smile. Her mannerisms told him she was tipsy, and she confidently said, "And who might you be, young man?"

Damien swirled the glass of wine in his left hand as he assessed what he was dealing with. He delicately set down his wine glass, leaning in as he asked with genuine interest, "Name's Damien; what brings you to Amery?"

She reciprocated the look of interest and asked, "I'm Milly, and I was invited here. Matter to you or something?"

Damien shook his head and continued, asking with a small laugh, "No, just making small talk; I couldn't help but notice you were here all alone." He took a sip of his wine, attempting to relate to her.

Milly looked at him as he spoke and replied with a tone of jealousy, "Well, my colleague was supposed to come with me, but he ditched me to take some guy home."

Upon picking her tone, Damien asked, "Forget about them; I'm here now. Let's raise drinks."

Milly laughed about that, seeming to listen to him and give him her attention, and they got drinks; sitting down at a table together, she moved the conversation forward. Their conversation flowed seamlessly as the clock ticked.

Damien, noticing the dwindling crowd and the staff starting to clear tables, remarked, "Seems the banquets are coming to a close; I met you a bit late.."

Milly looked around the banquet, seeing the same scene. Milly turned to him, and with a hint of sadness, she told him, "Well, it was a fun night, but I gotta head home. And, hey, thanks for talking with me."

She gathered her stuff and left for the plaza, exiting the banquet at Amery. She began walking off, Damien slowly losing his shot as she left the party.

Damien smiled in her direction, enjoying her personality, having forgotten what he was doing momentarily, and watched as she walked off. Upon getting a hold of himself, he quickly stood up and rushed to the door, pushing it open with a force that alerted her; he looked up to her and waited as she walked back towards her. He said in a calm tone, despite the rush he was just in, "Hey, you know. The night can keep going; we could have some after party back at your place?"

"Is that so? Then come with me. Just over here." she said with an interested tone. Damien followed her into the cold night. She took him downstairs, exiting the Amery plaza into an underpass, turning left towards the train station. 

As they walked, Damien attempted to conversate, asking her with that same tone that charmed her at first, "So, where do you stay? I hope it's as nice as you are."

She laughed at the remark and replied to him in an excited tone, "Oh, I just live at the QH; it'll take a half hour to get there by train."

The conversation paused as they walked down into the train station. It was crowded, a bit unusual given the time, but the party ending could explain it. They purchased tickets and waited on a bench, chatting as the train pulled into the station. "Ah, there's our ride; hurry, let's be quick to get good seats; this is the largest stop," she said, pushing through the crowd, holding onto Damien's hand to not lose him in the crowd.

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"I can't even see you-" Damien said, surprised, before popping out of the crowd into the train, and she was right. They got seats next to each other as the train filled, and most people were stuck standing.

Damien fell asleep on the train ride, as the length took a toll on him. He woke up to silence as he was shaken awake by Milly. He blinked a few times as he was pulled off the train. She sat him down on a bench and began asking him, "Are you alright? You blacked out on the train, and I couldn't get you awake.."

He looked around; he had the whole world weighing down on his eyes, and he wanted to sleep. He knew he needed to stay awake; the flash of the city lights and blurry silhouette of Milly in front of him was what his mind managed to make out of the world. He drank too much and now struggled to survive; he knew if he couldn't complete his mission, he would be in dire legal trouble.

He looked up at her, managing to mumble to her, "You go up the staircase out of the terminal; I'll catch up with you, Juliet."

Milly looked at him, confused at his statement, but trusted him and began to exit the terminal; she had a look of confusion on her face that had concerned Damien. Damien forced himself up as he trudged to a vending machine, tapping with his card before pressing the buttons for a five-hour energy. As it fell, he grabbed it, drinking it before tossing it in a bin. He exited the terminal and saw her about a block down the sidewalk, and he followed her. The cold air was beating against him as he walked. 

Damien caught up to her as she turned around, glancing at him. She asked him, "So, who's Juliet?" 

Damien was confused by her question, not knowing what she meant; he repeated the name, confused, "Juliet?"

She nodded her head, replying to him, "Yeah, that's the name you said back at the terminal; who is she?"

It clicked in Damien's mind, and he knew he had to come up with a lie fast and told her with a guise of confidence, "Oh, that's my little sister. We just went on a big vacation to New York. I was used to being on trains with her."

The answer sufficed, and Milly believed him, having no reason to question it. They began pulling up onto the complex, and she told him, "Just right here, this is the place. I'm on the top floor, the penthouse."

Damien simply nodded his head, and they entered the building; anyone who worked there was off shift, and they entered the elevator and waited to arrive. Damien watched the number of the displayed floor increase until they reached a floor guarded by a gate. She tapped a keycard, and the gate opened, allowing them entry into the penthouse.

After they entered, Milly messed with a screen next to the elevator, seemingly turning on security, and the gate closed from the inside, and she quietly said to herself, "There we go."

He began noting everything and marveling in the penthouse. He had never been in a pad this nice in his life. She turned over her shoulder and told him with a comforting tone, "Hey, I gotta take a call. If you want to get comfortable, go ahead."

Damien took her up on that offer, taking off his shoes and kicking back on her couch, nestled in the middle of the penthouse, a conversation pit with its fourth wall being a large fireplace, a wall-mounted television symmetrically sitting above the fireplace, awaiting the remotes command. He grabbed the remote and turned on the television, lowering the volume to not intrude on her phone call. It was on the news, discussing average city problems. He tuned in, not paying attention to her.

His efforts to ignore the phone call were interrupted; the news began remarking about new revelations in cybernetics, and just as he was about to get lost in the wonders of technology, Milly's phone chimed.

"Ah, that'll be the call I expected," she remarked casually. "Make yourself comfortable, Damien. This might take a while." she walked into the other room so as not to pick up the television. 

Damien waited a moment before standing up, walking up to the wall adjacent to her room, and pressing his ear to the door, attempting to hear what was so important. He waited anxiously, hoping she didn't exit the room and get something she had forgotten out there. 

After what felt like an eternity, yet in reality, it was only a few seconds; he heard her voice say, "We've made significant progress," she began, a note of pride evident in her tone. "The neural interface is now 87% efficient. Quite the jump from what we had last month."

Damien's eyes widened; technology like that was said to be a theoretical implant that would likely take ten more years at least to develop. This was equally shocking as intriguing, and he covered his other ear to drown out the television, or at least attempt to. He wanted only to hear what she had to say. He listened to a few one-word replies before hearing her eventually saying, "Security is airtight. Given the risks of corporate espionage, we've taken every precaution. The project is in safe hands."

He bit his bottom lip; whatever he was getting into on this mission was likely much more dangerous than initially presented by Juliet. He listened as she gave a few more replies before finishing the call, stating, "We have reasons to believe someone might have been snooping around, even at personal levels. It's crucial to be cautious of new acquaintances."

Damien realized if he stole the data, he might be confused for an informant and get in trouble with whatever company she worked with; he hadn't asked who she worked for, as he was almost sure it was Amery. He backed up back to the couch, hearing those one-worded responses stop, and almost on queue as he sat down, her door opened, and she walked over to him, exclaiming in a playful tone, "Now, where were we?"

An hour after she fell asleep, Damien got up out of her bed, clothes slung on the floor. The night had been a blur, and he had faked falling asleep until she fell asleep to investigate her penthouse. He said her name gently and quietly, getting no response. He got up and stood up in her room. He put on his boxers and his pants and left the room. The television was paused on a random show they had been watching on the couch. He looked around her penthouse for documents; the place was pretty messy, given her status. he couldn't find any physical documents and eventually gave up, going to her kitchen, where he knew she sat down with her laptop on the island. He opened it up, and it required a password. At this point, he went onto her balcony and dialed Juliet's number. After two rings, a calm, professional voice answered. "Juliet."

"It's me," Damien began, trying to keep his voice despite his growing frustration. "The penthouse is a mess. I couldn't find any physical documents. It's not what I expected, given her status."

Juliet's voice was steady, betraying no emotion. "And the digital assets?"

Damien hesitated for a brief second. "I found her laptop in the kitchen. But it's password-protected. I'm not equipped to crack it here."

A sigh from the other end. "Figures. Milly's not careless, Damien. If she has something valuable, she won't just leave it around. You need to get that laptop to me."

Damien peered through the glass, looking at the sleek device pondering his options. "Taking it is risky. She'll notice it's gone. Plus, she mentioned something about heightened Security during a phone call I overheard earlier."

 Silence lingered for a few heartbeats before Juliet responded. "Then don't take it. Can you install a remote access tool? I can guide you through the process. We'll gain control from our end later."

Damien shook his head, even though she couldn't see him. "It's locked, Juliet. I can't install anything if I can't access it."

There was a brief pause before Juliet confidently stated, "Check your pocket."

Confused, Damien slid his hand into his pants pocket and felt the cool touch of a USB drive. It had a peculiar weight like it was more than a regular storage device.

"That USB isn't ordinary," Juliet's voice carried an undertone of smugness. "It has an auto-run exploit. Plug it in, and it'll do the work. Just make sure you're quick. Once it's done its job, get out."

Damien glanced at the laptop, suddenly hopeful. "Got it. And after?"

"We'll gain control from our end," Juliet assured him. "Remember, Damien, time is of the essence, if she notices you, you'll be screwed."

Damien chuckled, assuring this time, "Don't worry about her; I checked if she was asleep."

Juliet trusted Damien, and followed up in a calm tone, "Okay, just insert the USB, and we'll have it from there."

Damien replied to her before hanging up, "Alright, I don't know how I have a USB in my pocket, but I'll go with it, I guess." he walked back inside the penthouse, sticking in the USB and waiting a moment, seeing the screen light up before it was cracked open. The cursor started moving around, going through many essential files, and then the screen was shut off for him to see.

Damien frowned, unable to see the contents that he had gotten them access to. At the end of the day, he didn't care and went back into her bedroom, grabbing his items and putting on his clothing. He turned off the security that she had turned on, leaving the gate open as he prepared to exit; he got a phone call. He answered it, standing in the open elevator; he got the first words out, "Who is this?"

The voice responded, "It's Juliet, I need you to make sure to get things looking natural and make sure you put the laptop back where you found it."

Damien responded, "Okay, is that all-" he was cut off by the sound of the phone hanging up, "Rude," he said to himself. He walked back into the penthouse and fixed anything he tampered with. Afterward, he returned to the elevator and descended. He exited the elevator and then the building. The cold air hit him as he walked back to the train station he had arrived in.

Upon entering the terminal, he was the only person there, waiting for a while before the train arrived, and he rode it for an hour before arriving at the stop closest to his apartment complex. This trip on the train was not nearly as comfortable, as he didn't have anyone to lean against.  He got off the train and walked out into the terminal, only a handful of people there. He exited the terminal and began walking on the sidewalk toward his apartment.

A light rain had begun while he was on the train, so he picked up his pace to arrive home sooner. He took shortcuts he was familiar with. Eventually, he came upon the city block where his apartment complex resided and put his keycard to the door, opening it as he entered. He wasn't greeted by anything or anyone and merely took the elevator up to his floor, getting off. He walked up to his door and put his keycard to it, opening it and entering.

After entering the darkness of his apartment enveloped him. For a moment, he just stood there; the cold air had woken him up, so any hope of a whole night of sleep was wishful thinking. After snapping out of it, he flipped on the light and tossed his tie onto the bar chair at his kitchen counter. He walked up to the window and pulled the blinds open, looking out at the nighttime city, still buzzing with activities. His trance was interrupted by a phone call, and he answered it, "Hello, who is this?"

"Tomorrow, 9 AM. The parking garage on 12th street, we need to talk," the voice was Juliet's, and before he had a chance to respond, the phone ended.

Damien sat the phone down; the gravity of what he got entangled in was weighing on him, and he decided to just go to bed for the few hours he had and worry about it then. He would have to miss work, but given the threat, he determined this was likely more important.