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goneawayworld2021-05-15 03:18 pm
It's (Still) Honestly A Terrible Plan.
What: A daring infiltration of the executive deck
Where: Exec deck
When: Simultaneous with the riot
Warnings/Notes: None so far.
Saturday watches from the edges of the riot, making a great show of moving furniture and snatching bystanders away from the rolling ball of chaos, until South slips by and murmurs something in her ear.
Then she begins to move, touching a shoulder here, giving a significant look there. Time to go. One by one, everyone can slowly depart. Secrecy is essential; even Jorgmund can add up riot and murder and break-in and get “kill them before they kill you.”
They can all meet Saturday at the appointed place. It’s a less-used service entrance to the upper deck, which some may not have even known existed. She stands with her hands in her pockets, wound tight as a sprinter before the starting pistol.
“Okay,” she says quietly, once they’re all there. In an earpiece cobbled together by Alia, a New Hire now gone, she says, “Brainy, you ready? Good.” She looks at the others. “Right. So. You all know the plan, an’ the stakes. Go in, grab as much as you can, get out. No unnecessary risks, no heroics. Brainy’s our eye in the sky; once the door opens, we scatter. He’ll be the only one with the full picture.”
“We’ve got a private channel, but keep it quiet. No chatter. If you cut comms, it means you’re burned an’ the op is over. We will try to get you out. It might not be possible. If Jorg realizes what we did, we’re all fucked. If that’s too much heat, go back. I won’t judge anyone for it.”
And she means it, too. Risking their lives in battle is one thing; risking torture and god knows what else at the hands of an enemy like Jorgmund is quite another. They’ve all heard a variation on this speech from her before, of course, when she approached them with the final plan. But she seems to need to make sure she says it again, one last time.
“Okay. Right.” Saturday turns to the door. Her hands are too disciplined to shake as she draws out the keycard, but she can taste her heartbeat on the back of her tongue. It’s always like this before a run, or a fight, in the moment when the ground starts to shift and anything becomes possible - provided you don’t fall.
It makes her feel a little guilty, how much she loves it.
The alarm panel blinks a challenge, and South steps forward. Planker’s voice emerges from her mouth, speaking the code-phrase stolen from his mind by Stacia and Kerrigan. The lock processes, taking almost too long.
But the door opens, revealing a branching hallway lined with doors. Time for everyone to get into their groups, and set off…
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One of the first things he'd liberated from his trenchcoat during his first mission was his actual lockpick set. Makes life much easier when trying to break into things quickly.
As long as it's an absolutely normal lock, he should make short work of it, popping the drawer open as quietly as he can manage.
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Inside, there's a wealth of files. Most of them don't look very interesting. But there is something in the back, there... unmarked, almost hidden behind everything else.
Should he pluck it out, he will find it's full of incredibly salacious pictures of, hoo, quite a few members of the secretarial staff, male and female. No one looks unhappy to be there; however, the notes attached to them and the elaborately scheduled little black book make it clear that none of them know about each other. Yes, indeedy, we have ourselves here a genuine office Casanova, and there's more than enough people featured here that if this information got out, it could prove very awkward and embarrassing for the executive in question.
Meanwhile, South is looking through the wealth of post-it notes. The executive - a woman, named Ashley - makes a lot of notes. Very few of them are pertinent. No wonder she keeps such an extensive little black book; absent-minded doesn't begin to describe it. One of the notes prominent on her monitor is a reminder of when her lunch break is, even.
None of them, however, have the password. More accurately, none of them have the correct password, and there's more passwords written down then South has chances to try a password before the system locks, possibly alerting someone. South can, of course, try anyway.
no subject
That's the wrong kind of comically incompetent to be useful. Fucking hell, how many times has this woman changed her password? How many times has she had to change her password because she forgot to get rid of old sticky notes and entered the wrong one too many times?
Maybe they should have tried Lonestar's human engineering idea. On this woman, specifically. Clearly no one would question her having to reset her password for the thousandth time.
If she was on her own, she'd try and brute force it, no question, but she's not, and unfortunately she's learned the value of teamwork again recently, so fuck. Grumbling, she finds a blank sticky note, scribbles 'too many passwords, think it's worth the risk to try a few?' and sticks said sticky note on the filing cabinet about level with Remy's face.
She's not talking aloud unless they have no other choice and he can't see her, creative methods it is.
no subject
Remy still flips through them, just in case there's something of interest. But he mostly makes his way to the back, which is where anything of value or interest might be hidden. And hits the jackpot.
He flips through the pictures only enough to be certain that they're all different people before picking up the black book. Which is about the time that the post-it note appears in front of him. Luckily, he's been around enough people who could shock him in that way that he doesn't make a sound. Instead, he shifts and sticks his head up over the desk to get a look at the papers and...
"Mère de Dieu," he mutters very low under his breath, grabbing up a few to take a look at. Because it's probably worth trying one or two. Beyond that, the computer will probably lock up and that might not be a massive problem, but it could cause concern.
Then again, looking at the sheer numbers of passwords? Maybe it wouldn't. Maybe it would just be every day when dealing with this woman. Depends on how they go about resetting passwords.
no subject
South screws up the first sticky note and stuffs it in her jumpsuit pocket, then writes another: 'if u get back in vents, i could try a bunch, risk only one of us, but the others'
She can get busted and talk her way out of real trouble—not that Remy knows that—but the others are assumedly still fuck knows how deep into their target area. In her experience, you get busted mid-infiltration, they're going to sweep the rest of the floor.
Remy in the vents would probably be fine, Jorg are stupid. But the others might not be.
no subject
This might mean not getting to look in that utility closet. But Remy can probably get back here another day via the vents if he really wants to. The possible blackmail is more important to get out.
no subject
Another crumpled note stuffed into her pocket, another written: 'and see how much they've found, case they need more time b4 risking it'
Her imperceptibility is indefinite, so long as Remy stays in range, so they could wait around a little longer before acting if they needed to, though she'd rather they didn't.
York's good at his job, at least—not that she'd admit that to his face—so she figures they must have found something by now, if she and Remy have, but it's never good to base a choice in the field off an assumption.
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Remy shifts a bit, so that his back is toward the glass doorway. Voice is less likely to carry that way. But he also pitches his voice low, less likely to be heard. "Team One to Team Two. Status?"
The less said, the less that could be overheard.
no subject
Not the most professional response, but Shelley sounds in high spirits even when she whispers. Doesn't sound like Team Two is in the middle of an emergency.
"We already got some data of unknown value at the cost of one concussion to a defenseless tech worker and we're about to look for more stuff. Over?"
All in all, it's clear: things are going relatively well with the other team. That they already left signs someone had been there isn't too great, but it was unavoidable.
no subject
He reaches for the sticky notes, writing down a quick update for South. Because it's enough to make his own head hurt.
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South reads the note and barely bites back a groan; well, an unconscious techie is a sure sign something's amiss. Which is a pain, but if there's already evidence people have been poking around...
'if they can get out of there w what they have, i'm okay w risking the comp - if ur down with maybe being stuck in the roof or can bail fast if it goes south'
It's a risk she's willing to take, if it's not going to be what busts the entire operation, but everyone else has to be able to get the fuck outta dodge one way or another.
no subject
Then again, the password might well be very safe at the moment.
He tucks the little black book and the file of pictures into the inner part of his jumpsuit, so that they couldn't get lost. Then added 'Blackmail material' to the sticky note so that South knows why he's taking it.
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She nods and then once again remembers he can't see her, but whatever, she gets it. Blackmail material's good. At least they've found something, on their end, even if there's no guarantee they can get any more.
'when up there, tell others to get the fuck out of there asap. if they can't, or think this is dumb, lmk on the earpiece, and we'll bail'
Teamwork, yadda yadda. She can at least try a couple passwords, then if no one's against it, she'll keep trying until it works or it locks her out. But if the others don't have an easy out, or they call bullshit on trying, then she can stop after a couple. But dammit, she wants to at least try make this as worth their while as possible.
no subject
It only takes another couple of seconds for him to get himself up into the vent, settling as easily as he can, ready for the long haul if necessary, before reaching up to thumb the comm on. "Team Two, dis is Team One. You ready to bug out yet? We're gettin' ready to try some passwords an' it could get ugly real fast if we pick wrong here."
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"We can bug out whenever, and we found something good. Just covering our tracks."
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Alright, that's good enough for her. Remy's secure in the ceiling out of sight, the other two can get out—knowing York's power, she's got no reason to doubt that, either. So, here goes nothing.
She doesn't rush it. She tries to start with logical choices, with the passwords on sticky notes least buried under other sticky notes (indicating maybe they're newest), or closest to the screen (most relevant?), though the sheer disorganisation and number of them doesn't give her much hope it'll be so easy.
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She debates for a good ten, fifteen seconds on taking the risk. The others have their way out, Remy's hidden, she can bullshit Jorg easily... but getting caught would erase any doubt that they'd broken in, and Jorg might try and get her to spill the names of those involved. If they did? She wouldn't have a good reason not to, not if she wanted to keep her cover.
So, begrudgingly, she takes her hands off the keyboard and steps back.
Still not wanting to risk talking, she instead turns off the monitor and hopes Remy can see that and takes it as the cue it is: we're done here.
no subject
It's just reversing things, really. Turn around and head back to where they'd started. From there, it's just a bug out.
After, maybe, checking that utility closet. Surely South could check that quick and be back in less than a minute.
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South's as careful on the way out as she was on the way in, and it's an effort not to breathe a loud sigh of relief when they're back out of that damn office.
Alright, they need to get that stupid grate back up to cover their entry and exit, but besides that... yeah, a minute's enough time to scope out the utility closest, she'd figure. And after that, it running out doesn't matter; they're almost home free.
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Eventually, he's able to make his way down, grate in place and screwed back in. "No trouble gettin' in an' out of de offices, but de hallways?" He shakes his head at that.
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Now they're out, she's less worried about speaking disrupting the effect, so she says, voice obviously hushed, "If we wanna cover all our bases, I'll check the utility shit, but then we're outta here. Hopefully the others weren't exaggerating when they said they had something good."
The blackmail material's good shit, but fuck if she doesn't wish they'd got something off the computer. She just couldn't risk throwing the others under the bus.
(Man, if her past self wouldn't have scoffed at that concern.)
And she will check it; she didn't want to fuck off and do it whilst Remy was still attaching the cover, in case the damn thing fell or something, but there's no need to keep him in range for this, either.
There's nothing much to find; she takes note of what looks like it might be another route into the deck, but that's about it. She's back with Remy within the minute, and elects to just switch the damn imperceptibility off now. It's a pain in the ass when someone can't see you.
"Looked like there was another way in, but besides that, nothing of interest."
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He nods, brushing his trousers off. "Best to be gettin' outta here. 'Fore somebody finds us."
He means 'finds me', because South's powers would probably keep her out of trouble. And he's good at talking, but he'd rather not risk it. "'Least we got somethin' interestin' outta dis."
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"I'm real fuckin' curious about what the other two found, honestly; guess we'll see. But yeah, let's get outta here, no need to fuckin' tempt fate. Coffee guy could come back for another monstrosity any moment."
And she's never quite sure how long after the imperceptibility's turned off that she can activate it again, so. Really no need to push their luck.
Back the way they came. Easy.