BoredBrit
Bored Brit
BoredBritishGuy
Legend
Day One -
A new city. A new start. Fresh off of my service as a beat patrol Enforcer, I arrive in Storm's Landing at 0900, January 2nd. My apartment is ready for me. Perks of family in the city, I guess. 202 Whitted Grange. A typical dreary high rise all too common in the these United Atlantic States after the War. Its Monday morning. I have checked my belongings arrived in tact and decide to go for a walk in this new place I am to call home. Without thinking, I find myself at the City Hall. I am staring at a notice board. I haven't got a job lined up in the city, yet. I was told that it would take some time for the paperwork to come through.. So what's a little cash on the side? All it would take is.. most of my savings.
Before I know it, I have a camera in my hands and I'm stood at the phone. A place and time. Gigantic Grub 1034. Only three minutes. I take off running. By the time I find the place, I can hear the phone ringing inside. I bluster and blunder my way inside and almost tear the phone from the hook. I am directed to a briefcase and told to deliver the photograph to 1002 Witted Grange. A neighbour of mine? Its of no matter to me. I have a job to do. No matter how much I hate having to do this work.
What I hate more than this line of work is the people that I have to work for. All I am given about my target is their place of work and that they have long, blue hair. What kind of lead is that? It doesn't matter. I leave the burger joint and head on out to find the poor sod whose life I have to ruin. I arrive at Sapphero&Partners at 1055 and take a seat on a bench outside of their office. Here, I'll formulate my plan and keep an eye on the offices within.
My first plan was simple, walk on in and present myself as an applicant. I meet Regina Westbrook and I know right away that she doesn't believe a thing. Yet, she looks back at me with a grim smirk and plays along with my act. When it comes to my asking for a tour of the office, I see it, the trap she had laid. She agrees to show me around, before sweetly adding that it would cost me. My heart sinks and I sigh. I just spent the last of my cash on a new camera for this damn job. So I politely decline and let her know I will be in touch about the application.
Back to square one.
But there it is, as I leave, the opportunity calling to me. That vent is my way inside the offices, where I'll surely be able to get access to their employee records and find my target. I follow the cables with my eyes and curse beneath my breath at my bad luck. Turrets, cameras and an alarm system. All of which cover the lobby. All of which connect to the same junction box. I walk beside an old vending machine that hides me from the cameras and begin to jimmy the lock on the junction box. With the pull of three switches, the whole floor of the building goes dark and I hear a security shutter slam.
In the cover of darkness and the blindness of the cameras, I hop up into the ventilation shafts and begin to crawl along. I count the consecutive sheets of metal to get some measure of how far I travelled and then there it is. Another vent panel to hop down.. right into a storage cupboard with exactly what I need. I start to flick through the records, taking careful pictures of what I find as I go. I find my blue haired target quickly. But it can't hurt to take the others, right?
All that is left is to find them in person. I have two options readily available to me. I can wait for them here, to finish work, or I can head to City Hall and find out where they live. As I walk out of the building, I flicker through my findings and balk. I'm not just going after some office chump. Someone has hired me to ruin the life of a corporate hot shot. For a moment, fear and ice flow through my veins in equal measure. A shiver runs along my spine as I realise that if I go through with this, I could make enemies with power and resources that far exceed mine. But if I stumble and stall, what then? I lose the job and I lose any real chance at getting work in this city. So I steel myself against the danger and get to work.
So there I go, off to City Hall again. Already I can feel the frightening thought that this place is already becoming familiar to me. I ask if I can hop on a Cruncher and I am directed to an office to the side. So, I boot up the old database using the login details left behind by a clumsy clerk and find my target. I print their file and I am already on my way before anyone has time to ask if I need help. What I find is just more confusion. The address on file; 1004 Whitted Grange. I have been hired by a neighbour to ruin the life of another neighbour. For what? The futile questions of morality are set aside with my first step into the rainy city. This is a dog eat dog world and one man can't stop that. We are all cogs and this is just my role to play..
I look at my watch. It is 1158. I have been in the City less than six hours and I've already stumbled into a case that will no doubt come back to bite me in the ass. I walk the path that will become second nature. The path home. I remind myself that I am doing this to survive. I conjure up all sorts of justifications as I step into the high rise that is home to me, my employer and my target. They could be true, they could be lies. It does not matter because I will never know. It is a question that I could answer, but no good will come of it. So I get on with it.
I head up to their floor. Dulled to the work I have to do, I run through all too familiar motions. Eyes scan for vents, cables, cameras. I notice that the ventilation system comes from upstairs, so that is where I head. Upstairs, into a vent and down into apartment 1004 Whitted Grange. I have no qualms about the breaking or entering as I drop down into what looks like a very well-kept closet. I have no issue with rooting through their belongings to find out when the target will be home. I have no issue with these things even as I set off a silent alarm. A note on the fridge was my distraction. A work rota. A schedule. That is what drew my eye away from the motion detector. I heard the shutters slam outside. So I did what I could. I grabbed the note and I hurried back into the vents. How long I waited? I do not know. All I do know is that my target would be home at 1700 and I would be waiting for them.
Monday, 2nd January 1979. 1715 hours. I return to the 11th floor and make my way into the vents toward the target's apartment. I have brought the camera. I hop down into the closet and wait. When she walks into the room, I take the picture and I leave. I fight back the urge to feel sickened by my actions as I crawl back through the vents like the rodent I am. A rat. That is what they call someone who gives information, right? Well. I gave the information. Under the door, as they asked. I got paid.. As we agreed.
Was it worth it? Who's to say. All I know is that I compromised what little was left of my morals in order to make the money required to stay alive in this City. I fear for what is to come.
A new city. A new start. Fresh off of my service as a beat patrol Enforcer, I arrive in Storm's Landing at 0900, January 2nd. My apartment is ready for me. Perks of family in the city, I guess. 202 Whitted Grange. A typical dreary high rise all too common in the these United Atlantic States after the War. Its Monday morning. I have checked my belongings arrived in tact and decide to go for a walk in this new place I am to call home. Without thinking, I find myself at the City Hall. I am staring at a notice board. I haven't got a job lined up in the city, yet. I was told that it would take some time for the paperwork to come through.. So what's a little cash on the side? All it would take is.. most of my savings.
Before I know it, I have a camera in my hands and I'm stood at the phone. A place and time. Gigantic Grub 1034. Only three minutes. I take off running. By the time I find the place, I can hear the phone ringing inside. I bluster and blunder my way inside and almost tear the phone from the hook. I am directed to a briefcase and told to deliver the photograph to 1002 Witted Grange. A neighbour of mine? Its of no matter to me. I have a job to do. No matter how much I hate having to do this work.
What I hate more than this line of work is the people that I have to work for. All I am given about my target is their place of work and that they have long, blue hair. What kind of lead is that? It doesn't matter. I leave the burger joint and head on out to find the poor sod whose life I have to ruin. I arrive at Sapphero&Partners at 1055 and take a seat on a bench outside of their office. Here, I'll formulate my plan and keep an eye on the offices within.
My first plan was simple, walk on in and present myself as an applicant. I meet Regina Westbrook and I know right away that she doesn't believe a thing. Yet, she looks back at me with a grim smirk and plays along with my act. When it comes to my asking for a tour of the office, I see it, the trap she had laid. She agrees to show me around, before sweetly adding that it would cost me. My heart sinks and I sigh. I just spent the last of my cash on a new camera for this damn job. So I politely decline and let her know I will be in touch about the application.
Back to square one.
But there it is, as I leave, the opportunity calling to me. That vent is my way inside the offices, where I'll surely be able to get access to their employee records and find my target. I follow the cables with my eyes and curse beneath my breath at my bad luck. Turrets, cameras and an alarm system. All of which cover the lobby. All of which connect to the same junction box. I walk beside an old vending machine that hides me from the cameras and begin to jimmy the lock on the junction box. With the pull of three switches, the whole floor of the building goes dark and I hear a security shutter slam.
In the cover of darkness and the blindness of the cameras, I hop up into the ventilation shafts and begin to crawl along. I count the consecutive sheets of metal to get some measure of how far I travelled and then there it is. Another vent panel to hop down.. right into a storage cupboard with exactly what I need. I start to flick through the records, taking careful pictures of what I find as I go. I find my blue haired target quickly. But it can't hurt to take the others, right?
All that is left is to find them in person. I have two options readily available to me. I can wait for them here, to finish work, or I can head to City Hall and find out where they live. As I walk out of the building, I flicker through my findings and balk. I'm not just going after some office chump. Someone has hired me to ruin the life of a corporate hot shot. For a moment, fear and ice flow through my veins in equal measure. A shiver runs along my spine as I realise that if I go through with this, I could make enemies with power and resources that far exceed mine. But if I stumble and stall, what then? I lose the job and I lose any real chance at getting work in this city. So I steel myself against the danger and get to work.
So there I go, off to City Hall again. Already I can feel the frightening thought that this place is already becoming familiar to me. I ask if I can hop on a Cruncher and I am directed to an office to the side. So, I boot up the old database using the login details left behind by a clumsy clerk and find my target. I print their file and I am already on my way before anyone has time to ask if I need help. What I find is just more confusion. The address on file; 1004 Whitted Grange. I have been hired by a neighbour to ruin the life of another neighbour. For what? The futile questions of morality are set aside with my first step into the rainy city. This is a dog eat dog world and one man can't stop that. We are all cogs and this is just my role to play..
I look at my watch. It is 1158. I have been in the City less than six hours and I've already stumbled into a case that will no doubt come back to bite me in the ass. I walk the path that will become second nature. The path home. I remind myself that I am doing this to survive. I conjure up all sorts of justifications as I step into the high rise that is home to me, my employer and my target. They could be true, they could be lies. It does not matter because I will never know. It is a question that I could answer, but no good will come of it. So I get on with it.
I head up to their floor. Dulled to the work I have to do, I run through all too familiar motions. Eyes scan for vents, cables, cameras. I notice that the ventilation system comes from upstairs, so that is where I head. Upstairs, into a vent and down into apartment 1004 Whitted Grange. I have no qualms about the breaking or entering as I drop down into what looks like a very well-kept closet. I have no issue with rooting through their belongings to find out when the target will be home. I have no issue with these things even as I set off a silent alarm. A note on the fridge was my distraction. A work rota. A schedule. That is what drew my eye away from the motion detector. I heard the shutters slam outside. So I did what I could. I grabbed the note and I hurried back into the vents. How long I waited? I do not know. All I do know is that my target would be home at 1700 and I would be waiting for them.
Monday, 2nd January 1979. 1715 hours. I return to the 11th floor and make my way into the vents toward the target's apartment. I have brought the camera. I hop down into the closet and wait. When she walks into the room, I take the picture and I leave. I fight back the urge to feel sickened by my actions as I crawl back through the vents like the rodent I am. A rat. That is what they call someone who gives information, right? Well. I gave the information. Under the door, as they asked. I got paid.. As we agreed.
Was it worth it? Who's to say. All I know is that I compromised what little was left of my morals in order to make the money required to stay alive in this City. I fear for what is to come.
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