— Meanwhile - Astral Tech Corporation HQ —
In the dead of the night, precisely at 2:00 AM, a group of over 20 individuals dressed in black suits and masks gathered at the back entrance of a futuristic-looking building. Their objective was to bypass the lock, as the front entrance was heavily guarded. While the back entrance also had security guards, they patrolled at longer intervals of every 15-20 minutes, providing the group with a window of opportunity to crack the electronic lock.
Various tools, electronic gadgets, and notebook computers were scattered around as the group worked diligently on their task. One of them pressed the enter key on a notebook, initiating a program to crack the emergency code and open the door, but...
BEEEEEE—P
A long, blaring sound echoed, indicating the failure of their attempt. The person responsible for the cracking let out a frustrated grunt, deeply annoyed by the outcome.
Suddenly, a member of the group who had been keeping watch for the security guards hurriedly approached them.
"Quick! Hide! They're coming!"
Upon hearing the warning, the thieves swiftly stashed their tools and equipment, seeking refuge behind nearby cover. Within moments, several security guards passed by, their flashlights illuminating the area.
One of the guards directed his beam of light towards the back entrance, causing panic among the thieves, fearing that their tampering with the lock had been discovered. However, it appeared that the guard merely glanced at the lock and continued on his patrol without further inspection.
"Fuck!" exclaimed one of the thieves in frustration, tossing his mask aside. "How long does it take you guys to crack that damn lock? You're supposed to be the best the money can buy in the Syndicate Union! Did I just pay 10 million US Dollars for your lousy skills!?" The frustrated individual was none other than Sokolov, who had accompanied the thieves to secure valuable technology blueprints and other cutting-edge materials for his own purposes, in addition to the job he had promised Prescott.
Yes, this wasn't the first encounter of the day where their group engaged in a cat-and-mouse game with the security guards. They had commenced their operation precisely at 12:00 AM, the same time Sokolov had coordinated the attacks on various establishments belonging to the Veneziale gang through the other gangs he had hired.
Initially, they had assumed that cracking the back entrance lock of a tech company would be a breeze. After all, they had managed to swiftly bypass small bank safes in under a minute without triggering any alarms. However, when faced with the lock of this particular tech company, they found themselves completely clueless on how to proceed.
Destroying the lock was out of the question, as their tools barely made a scratch on its surface. Brute-forcing the lock proved futile as well, with the program estimating it would take 99999999999 years to crack, and even the program itself seemed incapable of comprehending how to do it, despite the fact that it only required inputting a four-digit code.
Kidnapping a security guard to extract the password was also out of the question, as they had noticed security drones closely monitoring their movements. In short, they had exhausted all other options that wouldn't alert the police or the security guards, prioritizing their own safety.
By now, it was already 2:12 AM, and the thieves in the group had resigned themselves to the fact that cracking the lock and gaining access to the building without triggering the alarm seemed impossible. Many times, they had been tempted to break down the door and vent their frustration, but their rationality and professionalism prevailed, preventing them from making reckless decisions.
"Mr. Sokolov," one of the thieves addressed him directly. "You've been with us for over two hours since we started. We've exhausted all the resources and tactics at our disposal, excluding foolish actions like breaking the glass door and setting off the alarm. Our last option would be to find a gap in the security on one of the upper floors and attempt to climb our way in." The thief glanced at another member of the group who remained in the van, using a camera equipped with night vision and heat detection mounted on the van's roof to survey the upper floors.
The thieves regrouped at their nearby van, along with Sokolov, assisting the individual in the van to search for any security gaps once again. This time, they meticulously examined each floor, counting their options. As long as it remained before dawn, they still had a slim chance.
Two more hours passed, and it was now 4 AM. Sokolov's patience was wearing thin, questioning whether the group of thieves he had hired from the Syndicate Union was truly as skilled as they had claimed.
"Ah! Found it! Right here!" One of the thieves suddenly exclaimed, pointing at the screen on his computer. "On the 20th floor. This is where their security is vulnerable. Since we cut the main power source from the outside, the sub power supply can't fully support all the security systems, so it only powers the essential areas. It seems this floor isn't deemed as important." The thief explained.
The explanation was correct; the 20th floor served as the cafeteria, lounge, and coffee cafe for the employees, meaning it didn't require extensive security measures.
Under the cover of darkness, this time, the group of skilled thieves meticulously equipped themselves with specialized climbing gear, resembling vacuum pads designed to adhere to the smooth surface of the glass panels. The innovative technology allowed them to scale the vertical facade of the building with unprecedented ease and silence.
Silhouetted against the night sky, the thieves positioned themselves strategically, their gloved hands securing their grip on the vacuum pads. With swift precision, they began their ascent, their movements calculated and synchronized. As they defied gravity, their figures seemed to merge with the glass, creating an eerie and surreal spectacle.
One by one, they reached the 20th floor, where their target awaited. With practiced precision, a designated thief produced a cutting tool, carefully scoring the glass panel. The faint sound of glass meeting metal sent a shiver down their spines, a tense reminder of the risk they were undertaking.
As the cut was completed, the glass panel was gently removed, revealing an opening into the building. The thief slipped through the gap and, with cat-like agility, stealthily entered the 20th floor, their footsteps barely making a sound on the sleek surface.
Inside, they quickly set up a sturdy rope, securely fastening it to a solid fixture. With a swift motion, they launched the rope out of the window, allowing it to gracefully descend towards the ground floor. It acted as a lifeline, providing a means for the remaining thieves and Sokolov to ascend to the 20th floor undetected.
During their precarious ascent, the security guard made several rounds, their footsteps echoing ominously through the otherwise deserted corridors. The thieves, however, possessed an acute awareness of their surroundings, expertly concealing themselves in the shadows or blending seamlessly with the environment. Each time the guard drew near, they would hold their breath, hearts pounding, until the moment passed, and they could resume their ascent.
Finally, the last of the thieves, accompanied by Sokolov, reached the 20th floor, their gazes meeting in silent acknowledgement of their hard-fought success.
"Now, we need to find any data on their new element, their power plant, and anything that appears to be cutting edge," Sokolov directed the group.
The thieves swiftly dispersed, combing through the building from top to bottom, each assigned to a specific area. Meanwhile, Sokolov hastened to join the thieves ascending to the upper floors. With the main power grid deactivated, they were left with no choice but to navigate the building using the stairwell.
As the agile and nimble group of professional thieves dashed through the building, their steps were light and silent, swiftly scaling flights of stairs with remarkable speed. Sokolov, however, found himself huffing and puffing, struggling to keep up as his lack of fitness became increasingly evident with each step.
"Hey, boss, you sure you're gonna make it? We'll be on the 70th floor in no time!" one of the thieves teased, wearing a mischievous grin.
Panting and perspiring, Sokolov shot them an exasperated look. "Just wait... for... me... you... son... of… bitches..." he gasped between breaths.
As they continued their ascent, Sokolov's sluggish progress began to slow them down. What should have been a quick climb turned into an unexpected endurance test. The thieves found themselves taking frequent breaks, allowing their boss to catch his breath and wipe the sweat from his brow.
An hour passed, then another, as they trudged upward, step by step, floor by floor. The thieves exchanged knowing glances, attempting to hide their amusement at Sokolov's struggle. While they admired his determination to reach the 70th floor, his lack of physical fitness was glaringly apparent.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they reached the 70th floor—the very floor where Daniel's office was located. Sokolov collapsed onto the nearest available chair, his chest heaving and his face flushed with exertion.
"Boss, maybe you should consider hitting the gym after this," one of the thieves joked, earning chuckles from the rest of the group.
Sokolov shot them a glare, but his expression softened stemme from exhaustion. "Yeah, yeah... fuck you... now... get to... huff... fucking work," Sokolov huffed and panted, before falling to the ground on all fours and then lying down, gasping for air. "Let me lie here for a bit... you go do your job..." Sokolov shooed the thieves away, urging them to continue with their tasks.
New novel chapters are published on fr(e)ewebnov(e)l.com