It took about thirty seconds for G00dw;ll to realize exactly what he had gained access to. The security camera records for the apartment complex were stored on the local servers in a block of a week’s time. After that, they either deleted them or uploaded them to an off-site storage… but that hardly mattered. He had access to a full week’s worth of security video!
He fished through the list of devices, and located two cameras attached to the front of the building. The lenses were focused down at the area in front of the doors, but a large part of the entrance for the office building across the street stayed in view, if not perfectly in focus, basically the entire time.
A week’s worth of outside surveillance was invaluable. G00dw;ll quickly set up a download to a secure off-site of his own. This could make or break them.
While reviewing the cameras, a thought occurred to him. He brought up the current day’s recordings, and sure enough, there was Fishhook, gabbing away with the doorman. G00dw;ll paused for a moment, and shook his head. So obvious.
With expert skill, G00dw;ll created an algorithm that simulated electronic interference, and let it run wild with the day’s footage. Recordings from random cameras, in every part of the complex, corrupted and lost cohesion. The basics were still visible, but the detail had essentially been erased. No more problem.
Cracking his knuckles, G00dw;ll sat back and waited for his download to complete.
The day passed by overhead as Fishhook waited.
He watched, from his safe and comfortable vantage point, as every person went in and out of the office building that housed their target. He’d spent years in the military—holding a recon position was second-nature to him. Most of the people that passed through his sight were unremarkable: office workers, visitors, the occasional suited executive. Those that took his notice were the uniformed security guards, in their dark helmets and body armor. He counted them, one by one, marking each one by their gait, or by some piece of identifying equipment that they carried.
A fair number of them. Perhaps twelve unique guards throughout the day. Security didn’t seem particularly tight.
After a few hours, though, a pattern at last made itself clear. Every few hours, a single suited man would leave the building, get on a particularly high-pitched motorcycle, and disappear down the street. A few minutes later, another motorcycle would arrive, and a different person would go into the building. After the third time this happened, he watched particularly closely to the fourth such occurrence. The man who left and the woman who arrived both wore dark, tailored suits, dark sunglasses, and carried themselves with powerful assurance. Their generally Japanese ethnicity sealed his suspicions.
Thoughtfully, Fishhook opened his PAD.
|<16:34:50> Fishhook: Is it possible that Geotech has hired the yakuza for security?|
|<16:35:24> G00dw;ll: Shit, guess my contact was right|
|<16:36:01> Fishhook: That’s an interesting development|
|<16:38:12> G00dw;ll: I’ve got a bunch of extra security footage, by the way|
|<16:39:24> Fishhook: Give me a few more hours, I’ll let you know what to look for|
Unconcerned, he waited until well after nightfall. One by one, the lights in the office building went out. Finally, at approximately 2200 hours, the van for the private security firm rolled up and most of the PriSec officers climbed in and left, leaving only two behind for the night. At about the same time, two more motorcycles buzzed up the street, and parked not far away from the building. Fishhook observed this development closely: they had not arrived to replace one who’d left, as the pattern had indicated.
One of the yakuza pulled off their helmet to reveal close-cropped hair and a young male face. On his back, Fishhook could see the distinctive, curved shape of a katana. The other rider was about the same age, female, with shoulder-length hair, and she carried herself with a grace that Fishhook associated primarily with black ops assassins.
We should avoid these two, if we can, he thought.
Once the exchange of personnel completed, only one light remained on, deep within the third floor of the office building. He watched as the PriSec guards’ security flashlights appeared briefly in all the windows: their sweep started from the top floor, and moved downward, taking about thirty minutes in total. Then, they waited in the lobby.
The yakuza still hadn’t emerged.
Fishhook tapped his chin. 2200 seemed to be the correct time to make a move. The two yakuza he’d seen enter at that time concerned him, though.
|<22:32:12> Fishhook: Keep an eye out for a pair of yakuza arriving together. Bad news.|
|<22:32:50> G00dw;ll: i’ll look|
|<22:33:30> Fishhook: I’m going to see what I can do about getting us into the building.|
Now that he knew where all the cameras were, Fishhook threaded them perfectly on his way out. As he emerged through the front door and noted that his friendly doorman had been replaced by someone new, he looked both ways down the street. This commercial district had plenty of bars and nightclubs. Surely one of those PriSec guards had stopped for a drink on the way home.
On his way here, he’d passed a place that he thought was particularly promising. Adjusting his suit from his day of surveillance, he strolled down the avenue and into a club known only as Q.