The protagonist needs a better name, any suggestions are welcome
Looking
up Whitman’s goal gets ever closer, a half hour more of climbing and he should
reach the opening. The vertical journey has just been a warm up. All of the
planning and preparation was now being put into practice, the hours of pouring
over the plans, looking for weaknesses and design flaws to take advantage of
had been a mental challenge. Now was the time to see if his body was up to
completing the task.
Like
invisible hands the wind pulls and whips him, trying to rip him off of the side
of the building and throw him down to the street far below. The higher that he had climbed the more
brutal the wind is. When he had started in the fading light of the day there
was only a gentle breeze. As the sky had become darker and the stars start
coming out so to the wind gains strength now half of the battle was just
maintaining a grip to the outside of the building.
His
movements were as fresh as when he had left the ground all those hours ago.
Moving up the outside of the tower he had barely paused. If this job was going
to be finished it had to be done tonight and there wasn’t time to take in the
view. He leaps from one makeshift handhold to another. His fluid movements
steadily driving him up the face of the building. Gripping onto an air vent
with his fingers or balancing on an inch thin ledge with the toe of his boots. One
point to the next making his way closer to where he would gain access to the
interior of the citadel. From this height the details on the ground were
indistinguishable and nothing could have wiped the grin of his face while he
was having the time of his life.
After a couple of hours and a
few hundred meters of climbing he reaches his destination. It wasn’t much to
look at; an intake vent exactly the same as all the others that he had passed
on his way up. This one was different. This was the vent that would lead to the
vault where Commsigyn had their latest and most impressive computer and more
importantly the jewels that allowed it to process all that data. The machine
itself was of little interest to Whitman. He had heard about its impressive
computing power and how it was going to be able to monitor every aspect of New
Hyborea making it the safest planet in the sector. None of that mattered to him.
What he was only interested in was the fact that they were some of the largest
most flawless gems that had ever existed, and that this was going to be one of
the most high profile break-ins ever committed. Two things that he just
couldn’t turn his back on.
Hanging just above the vent he
dug his hand into a well-worn leather satchel that hung across his shoulders
and pulled out a little wallet of tools. With deft movements he quickly removed
the bolts that held the grate in place, and with feline movements slinks his
way into the opening. Despite his
muscular frame Whitman slide into the air vent. Crawling in part and slides
down, he was inside and getting closer to tonight’s goal.
The light from the map on his
hand held gently reflects off of the shiny metal lighting the way down through
the air vent. Following the route laid out he quickly works through the maze of
the inner workings of the building. Sweat covers his face, his arms, and any
exposed skin as the humidity in the vent is a stark difference to the biting
cold outside. He takes it as a good sign that he is getting close to his
destination. Making his way through the vents, the harsh humidity eases off as
a breeze brushes his face.
Reaching
the interior of the building. Whitman peers through the grated vent, he spies a
crisp white hall way. Taking a moment to weigh up his next move the sound of
heavy boot makes its way down the hall. In perfect lines six heavily armoured heavily armed men march pass, the light
reflecting off of the polished sections of their dark armor and heavy shoulder
pads and chrome visors hiding their faces. The black uniform of the Commsigyn
guards is recognizable the sector over. These aren’t ceremonial uniforms, every
inch of it is has been tested for optimum protection, and only the most capable
warriors have the honour of wearing it. If Whitman wasn’t careful, if he just hurled
himself at those guards that uniform would be the last thing that he saw.
Waiting until the security
detail had passed Whitman carefully removes the grate and slips into the
hallway. Taking a quick glance, the read out tells him that he is nearly at the
chamber where the prize was being held. With precious little cover in the
hallway he is going to have to move quickly to get to his destination. Shadows were his ally, and here in this
citadel there were no allies to be found. This well let building had no dark
corners for him to lurk in. To complete this it would take his speed, agility
and ferocity to get out alive. He wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Landing on the floor Whitman brakes
into a sprint. If he hadn’t already been caught on a half dozen security
cameras the second he touched the ground it was only a matter of minutes until
he was. Speeding down the hall he knew he was on the clock. It was only going
to be a matter of time before the entire building was aware of his presence and
bearing down on him like hounds on a fox.
Rounding the corner the first -guards
came into sight. Shocked, they freeze for a second. That is the only opening
that Whitman needs. Before they had time to register what was happening. Whitman
drew his blade. They raise their rifles. Too late. A slash of a blade, and the
weak spot at the neck was opening. The arc of the blade finished by punching
its way through the temple of the other guard. With barely a pause Whitman had
gathered a rifle, a pass and was back to full sprint.
There was no need to check his
map. He knew the layout by memory. Hours had been spent learning every twist
and turn. Before long he was at the door that held his treasure.
Opening the door
with the card that he had recently acquired, Whitman is greeted with an
unpleasant, but not unexpected sight. The room is lit with a kaleidoscope of colours from jewels
and is filled with a half dozen guards. In the middle on a pedestal, with
dozens of rays directed into it was the prime jewel. The key to the processing
power of this centre.
A man made his way past the
heavily armoured guards pointing there rifles at Whitman
as if he was
walking up to introduce himself at a cocktail party. Dealing with interlopers
is his job, and by the way that he holds himself he was clearly good at his
job. Even among the guards with their highly polished suits, he stands out as
taking particular pride in his appearance. Not a hair out of place, his eyes take
in Whitman with a glance.
‘You,’ The man
paused, ‘have done quite an impressive feat.’-‘I’m not sure if it was bravery
or stupidity that brought you here. But I must say I am impressed. It is almost
a shame that you will die now and more of a shame that no one will know what
you have managed to accomplish.’
Whitman peers
around the room. His visage is reflected in a dozen chromed visors. Pausing for
a moment, he doesn’t wait for the man’s next move.
‘Well it’s been
fun. But I guess it had to come to an end.
With That Whitman
drops to one knee and fires a blast from his rifle right into the main crystal.
With a flash of sparks, the crystal begins to pulsate with energy. The raw
power of the main crystal took over the room. Everyone in the room takes a step
back in self-preservation. Everyone except Whitman. His backup plan was falling
into place.
Taking advantage
of the distraction, he was up on the consoles. Taking strides across the
keyboards while the guards are gathering themselves Whitman was gathering his
bounty taking the out the back up gems that are shooting into the main gem. That’s what he was here for while not worth as
much as the main gem they were easier to sell. Tearing them out from there
settings, Whitman moves along the console, knowing that he only has moments to
gather as many as he can.
Re gaining their wits the guards
begin to fire. Dodging and weaving between the blasts Whitman continues around
the consol. All the while the gem in the middle is pulsing with energy barely audible
over the gunfire and the captain screams commands. As Whitman gathers the
jewels he keeps an eye on the jewel, waiting for his plan to come to completion.
Launching from the console
Whitman tackles the nearest guard, like a tiger pouncing on prey twisting
himself around the guard. The main crystal reaches critical mass with an explosion
that engulfs the room.
Pushing
the corpse of the guard, Whitman takes a moment to survey the room. There is debris
and corpses littered all over what use to be the room. Walking over to the
captain Whitman reaches down and pats him on the cheek.
‘Later
sweet pea’ Whitman says as he walks over to the hole blown in the wall. Checking
the straps on his anti grav rig, Whitman takes one last moment to survey the
destroyed room, then checks the weight in his satchel before taking a leap out
of the gaping hole. As his controlled fall take him to the ground, he smiles.
