Snippet #1515634

Francis left without another word. Usually he'd have plenty to say, and probably a request or two for a little more help concerning his investigations but this time he thought he'd said more than enough, even without opening his mouth. He watched as Snyder went for the stairs, something he personally wasn't a fan of. If he wanted to knacker himself out he'd hit the gym or go for a run after work, both were good. Here, in the office, was for paperwork and typing, outside here was for toning up and looking good. It was one of the many things he had on mental lists which he used to keep work and socialising seperate entities.

So he took the lift, right down to the fourth floor. May as well check out my office before I clock off for the night. He asked for directions to which was his and found everything had already been set up, the keys were handed to him there and everything had already been fitted. She may have been developing a serious mental disorder but Freya Mortix was the most efficient boss he'd ever worked under. He took a quick look around, checked out the computer and it's software and just as he was leaving the phone rang. Not even in the office for five minutes and the phone rings, typical. He picked it up.

"Vespois' office." Now that was worth being inches away from having an entire building fall on his ass. So much work, so much crap taken from idiots higher up than him, and he finally had his own office. And all it took was a near-death experience.

"Mr. Vespois, you have a message from Alex Snyder, he said to hand over his contact details, I'm forwarding them to your office computer now."

"Thank you... Erm, who is this?"

"My name is Elise, I'm the department secretary.

"Well, thank you very much Elise, I look forward to working with you. I'll see you in the morning." He hung up, wondering exactly what Elise might look like, and dropped his head to one side, feeling the satisfying series of clicks that came with the act, then did the same for his other side before opening his inbox and clicking the number of Snyder to dial it, hearing it ring once, twice...

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Floors above Francis, out of sight and out of earshot, The Enigma was wide awake again and was reaching a breakthrough in the case of this pathetic insurrection. Other than using sophisticated software (Of his own design, of course) to gather as much information as possible about the members encountered that had been caught on camera, he had determined three possible locations of their whereabouts. So, with a profile of each containing approximate weight, dimensions, age, details of mask (If any) and powers, he then set about working out potential targets for the next MortixCorp assault, as was his rather sudden order from Freya upstairs.

Through magnetic tracking of digital materials, eyewitness reports of vehicles, police reports, general direction, velocity and imaginative use of Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle, The Enigma had narrowed down possible hideouts for the rebellious organisation to three candidates. One of these was a disused weapons facility way out in the backend of the commercial sector, another was one of the many abandoned warehouses that littered the industrial estates and the final location was a large apartment building in the slums of Zuna Sector, a fitting place for them. All were similar distances from the sites of the attacks and all routes had been accounted for. Though The Enigma's cover of the city was FAR from complete in terms of surveillance, he could see the ocassional spot that was enough to confirm or deny to be part of their getaway route.

All data was gathered, filed and sent on to Miss Mortix, along with the best stills of the pests he could gather from the images recorded. Then, for the first time in what felt like days, he rested, instead of simply falling asleep at his workstation. And, with his current task finished, he thought it might be nice to go for a walk. So he stood, reached for his stick and opened the door. It was times like this that he concentrated on not seeing through lenses. It felt unnatural, even after decades of blindness, and just accepting what he was - a blind, old, decrepit hacker - was actually rather comforting in it's own strange way.

With no particular destination in mind, The Enigma's hunched form started scouring the hallways, thin metal rod tapping away at the ground in an arc as he went.