| From: | "Paul J. Adam" <shadowtk@********.DEMON.CO.UK> |
|---|---|
| Subject: | Hotel Hit II - The Sequel |
| Date: | Mon, 31 Mar 1997 19:47:54 +0100 |
>>>>>[I knew this was going too well.
+++++begin video
The view is from near ground level, moving up a fire escape: it stops by
the fire door and the camera scans across it, other sensors injecting
data into the view. The door is crossed by three sensor lines, and the
remote drone proceeds to use a small laser to bore a hole through the
centre of the lower unprotected area, then pushes a camera through.
The hallway is dark and quiet, and there seems no reaction to the
intrusion: the drone cuts away nearly a quarter of the door, using
suction cups to withdraw it noiselessly, before it bumps through and
into the hall, moving very quietly. The loudest noise is the faint echo
of tonight's trideo programmes leaking with the light from under the
doors, and from one room someone called "Donny" being energetically
pleasured.
The drone pauses by the end, attaching a small sensor to the elevator
door: it moves up, and places another sensor on the door of one room -
ignoring the "Do Not Disturb" sign - then returns to take station by the
elevator.
As it does so, you see - not hear - two black-clad figures moving down
the corridor. They examine the door of the room the drone tagged.
"Silent." a voice says, evidently by radio. "Either asleep or not
home."
One figure, slim and lithe and moving with a feminine gait, nods, moving
its suppressed Ingram on its sling so it's out of the way: its companion
(male, more powerfully built, with feline grace) steps back and to the
side, covering the corridor with a Thunderbolt automatic.
The door's lock makes a sad little noise of torn plastic and the female
intruder nods, glancing back to be sure her partner's covering her: as
she steps through the now-open door, there is a bright flash of light
and a pulse of noise that overloads the microphones, and the female
intruder flies through the doorway amidst a cloud of smoke and debis:
she smashes against the far wall and falls to the floor, her clothing on
fire in several places.
There is a long monent of silence, broken only by the sound and light of
a blaze in that room: then the fire alarms go off with a shrill warble.
The other raider lets go of his ears and runs to his partner, slapping
out the smouldering spots on her clothes: he checks her pulse, appearing
surprised at the result, and drags her towards the fire escape: the
drone passes them while gathering speed, crashing the door open and
turning to watch them from the landing.
A room opens, light spilling out, and a balding head appears. "What the
hell-"
The male figure aims the Thunderbolt and shouts something in Spanish,
and the head is withdrawn with haste: the gunman continuing to drag his
companion back to the fire door. At the landing, he hauls her over his
shoulder and runs out of view, the drone closing the door and driving
several metal spikes into place to keep it closed: it tacks the missing
panel back in place before retreating.
You hear several thumps from the door, but no signs of pursuit yet, as
the drone and the two intruders rush down the fire escape and pile into
what looks like a delivery van.
Inside, the male raider taps a code into the autopilot, then moves back
to tend to his companion, who still hasn't moved since the explosion. In
the dim light, you see she's clad in black leather motorcycle jeans and
jacket, wet with blood in several places.
+++++end video
I'm still alive, as if you couldn't guess. The bomb went off as I
stepped inside, but I didn't hit a tripwire. Motion detector, acoustics,
timer on the door or IR lasers, maybe? I wasn't in direct line of it,
still in the hallway with a wall between me and it, which is probably
why I'm still breathing. Guess they weren't expecting anyone going in to
be so cautious.
Kudos to Griff for pulling me out so fast. I'm fairly okay: lots of
things hurt, mostly where the armour didn't cover me, but wearing biker
gear saved my ass. That stuff's designed to cope with you bouncing off
the asphalt, it helped keep me from the worst of the damage. I'm not
exactly in best shape, but I'm functional: just some blast damage and
cuts. The concussion knocked me out for a few hours, though.
Their security was alarmingly on the ball. Not too much for a place like
this, but fast and tight and smart: oddly enough, why we got out, when
Griff yelled "get back or I'll kill you" in what he assures me is Aztlan
Spanish, that guest's panicked report meant they sent a four-man team
rather than just rushing the duty guard in there. Bought us ninety
seconds.
The room was pretty inactive, from what I saw. Bed hadn't been slept in,
bureau was dusty: I figure the bomb was in the bureau, and I had a wall
between me and it when it blew. The concussion threw me out of the room,
or Griff might not have been able to get me out of there. No clothes, no
luggage that I remember seeing.
According to the deckers, the 'phone was disconnected the second day
"Colleen" arrived. It's still on file, but until someone gives Ma Bell
some more money nobody's passing on the number.
I patched the cuts and picked out the shrapnel, and the day after - once
the first rush died down - did my patented Police Officer Impersonation
and hassled the staff some more, they were used to cops by then and the
first rush had died down. Dropped hints about Aztlan terrorism and
asking about Colleen like she was with the Yucatan guys, as a sidebar:
since Griff gave us the lead-in I thought it might help cover our asses.
When I showed the picture, they recognised her: she only stayed a day,
though, but she left enough in the account to pay for the room until the
end of this week. Helped make the Aztlan terror story more credible,
Miami news are speculating about that instead of a bunch of Seattle
runners.
I'd respectfully submit that either Colleen is being dangled as bait by
someone who's five steps ahead of us and gaining, or else she really
doesn't want anything to do with her ex. Either way, this approach is
not proving to be useful.
I'm also flat out of ideas, unless someone's got a ritual sample on
Colleen we could try (probably not or we would have done it already) or
unless the deckers have some tricks up their sleeves.]<<<<<
-- Easy <19:47:54/03-31-58>
