Strelok didn't ask questions. He never did. It was because, frankly speaking, he didn't care about the whys and wherefores. Come hell or high water; a larger, uglier version of the bastard child Randy or the end of the world, he would do his job the same way he always did - the way that worked. So really, unicorns and a displacer beast didn't phase him in the slightest. He'd just take a helicopter to what remained of the Schwarzwald at some point and capture three of the most endangered and dangerous magical creatures so jealously guarded by the elves of the area. A shame they'd be hostile to him, too; they made the most
fantastic bratwürst and beer. If only he could ignore that small detail where they ate humans which were killed upon going too deep into their woods.
His reply to his employer was short and curt as was the nature of discussions of the Business. It was written in the contract, after all, that only the Headmaster was permitted to divulge any details of the sub-basement complex. Strelok read that as 'don't speak to others of what you work on'. Which was a thing he'd do gladly. Trade Secrets and all that were to be kept.
"Nothing is amiss down there. I'll get on it." Six words and he turned before the man had finished drinking down his refined fermented potato juice of calmness.
His old friend and boss Waylan was tall, jaded as balls and drinking to drown his sorrows. Tuesday five-oclock as usual, it seemed. He had yet to teach the man - Or was he God? Beast King? Magician? Jewish mysticist? He never worried anymore - about the drinking ways of the hill-folk, and it seemed like he never had the time to. Too bad, so sad. Not his problem to deal with right now.
He gave a nod to the Headmaster, recognizing the pregnant nature of the minute and deigning to leave, as student-related things he loathed with a passion. He turned, the not so well known member - well, to him anyway - among the staff by name of Imdius falling into his field of view for a second. The redhead was rude and brash, as those of the hair color were wont to be. Not Strelok's business, so he didn't care.
Upon the completion of his turn, he turned his masked head to look at the other figure in the office who had asked him a question, the one much more known and affectionately remembered by him. Aiko the Doll, secretary and general paperwork warrior that he shunted off all of his reports to Waylan to.
When she finished her nervous question, though, Strelok got even leerier than he usually did. Gesturing her forward outside the headmaster's office with a tilt of his head, he walked out the doors, leaned to close them behind her and then fixed her with a worried stare. Not that she could tell, as his face was masked, but the gesture was there. For his peace of mind rather than her own, but still.
"Aiko, what's this? Why do you want to know of my workspace so readily?" he asked of her. Of course, he couldn't actually bring her down to the deep parts. But the man tried to keep the working friendliness up, for courtesy's sake if nothing else.
She mumbled something. Strelok had to strain to hear it over the sound of the school's bell alert system ringing. She started again, telling him about something along the lines of "want to know more about my colleagues". Strelok put a hand to his mask and behind it he discreetly rubbed his face against the edgy plastic interior.
Truth was, he wasn't going to show her to the sub-basement. Not the true depths of it where the lights often failed, water leaked, anomalies arose and mutants prowled...
Not for the first time, Strelok was thankful for this mask which concealed his face. It hid the dead-eyed stare that crept up onto his face at that moment in time, it might have unnerved even the porcelain secretary. It wasn't like the whole thing was unsanctioned, though; if Walyan had something to say against it, he probably would have said it. To call him a sharp operator would be a gross understatement - Strelok had never seen the man falter, in either battle or business. In fact, Strelok indeed personally believed that Waylan Monstrum was one of the last remaining pillars of the old world.
"Aiko." he began. "The underground complex is restricted to the majority of staff and students alike. Do you mean to tell me our boss-" he gave a jerk to the direction of the office, where something loud made a noise. "Hasn't told you of the things our workplace holds?"
Her shy shaking of the head answered in the negative. Strelok gave a sigh, before taking on a cheery attitude.
"Very well. I can't show you anything more than the first level where I sleep and keep my gear, but I'll take you down."
Strelok gave a nod, turning on his heel and walking out the office blocks, and to the tower's elevator before pressing the ground floor button and leaning against the wall. While the elevator went down - and Strelok had the nagging suspicion that Aiko was looking at him the entire time - he was gazing in the direction of the screws holding the roof mounting together, as if looking through them to see the elevator's mechanisms above to see whether or not they needed maintenance. To that, he sincerely hoped not. He replaced the damn things only two years ago - the certification on them was for four times that number, and the warranty guaranteed at least twelve years of operation. Then again, perhaps extra preventative maintenance on them was what he deserved for purchasing the things out of Helsinki & Son Smeltries instead of Ügenbörst-Halvella Foundryworks.
He had put his contacts he acquired over the years to good use. Granted, it might be a little petty to call in life debts for something as small as precision-machine fastenings or elevator cables or titanium powerline protective coverings, but Strelok maintained the notion that it was all worth it.
A short, silent walk out of the elevator of their boss's Tower and into the main building, then down through one of the hatch doors. Now, when you come up against these things, it's often good to recognize them on sight, and have the strength of an ox to lift the things. Six feet by two and a half, set into the ground, had to be lifted vertically. The two went down the hatch and the ladder with little fuss, Strelok closing it with a boom above them and re-locking the blood seal on it with a little of his own. These monsters weren't the piddly staircases leading to the underground storage rooms that the majority of the facility's basements were.
In truth, each tunnel that wasn't an emergency elevator to the places above would all converge to one walkway in an attempt to choke whatever might be coming up out of the underground complex. A side-room from this walkway led them through another, smaller, tunnel which lit up at Strelok's activation of a light switch and showed a few side-rooms.
"This is my equipment room. Stay out or some of it might activate on you." Strelok commented as he opened one of the smaller, lighter doors on the left and gave Aiko enough time to peer confusedly at shelves and shelves and shelves' worth of tools and equipment, as well as workbenches of the wooden, metal and welding variety, as well as a lathe, milling machine, bandsaw and table saw and guillotine before closing and stepping forward and along, forcing Aiko to step away from him and go down along the hallway. She looked confused.
"This is my weapons room. Same deal. And I
know if some of it goes missing." Strelok said, giving much the same deal with the room - allowing a brief glimpse of it before shutting the door and moving forward. She appeared to be as confused by that as she was with the previous.
Next room was where he relaxed, lived and slept when not on duty. Before he could open the door, though, a very light pressure fell on his shoulder. In earlier years he would have reflexively flinched, drawn his knife and tried to cut off the fingers of whoever it was that tried. Nowadays he just glanced up in surprise.
Aiko was holding his shoulder. And she wasn't able to go tomato red, but she certainly went through the facial expressions for it.
"Strelok..." And after all these years, his name
still sounded weird being spoken by her, "I do not believe you should keep me from our Headmaster's request any longer."
"What request would that be?" Strelok asked, suspicious of the Japanese doll.
"I was ordered to the vault. I am sure you know which one. I cannot tell you the reason behind my going there." she stated in a way that would have seemed emotionless and abrupt, but Strelok knew this was her equivalent of speaking a million words a minute and at a high-pitched tone of embarrassment.
It was then that Strelok knew he had misheard orders from his boss.
He shut his mouth with a near inaudible click of his teeth, closed the door and indicated for her to follow him. The door at the end of the hall had nine keypads on it. Strelok pressed out a combination across all of them with the fast pace of long practice. Eventually, the - wooden - door opened.
Directly behind the wooden door was a haphazard - if devastatingly effective - device consisting of an automated anti-tank cannon on a gimballed mount aiming directly at the door. It was because he entered the code correctly that he was not blown to pieces. Spelled in tape on the gunmetal grey shield of the cannon - the part that was curved, facing forwards, generally deflecting shrapnel and small arms fire - were the words "DON'T JUST STAND THERE, COME IN".
Strelok led Aiko through the doorway and around the cannon. Past it was yet another door, which led into yet another - if smaller - hallway. He led her to the third entryway on the left, keying in a code which opened the sturdy blast door, leading directly into the vault that Walyan ordered both of them to go to. Or rather, the "vault".
The maintenance technician nodded, closing the door behind the doll and heading back. An echoing snarl from around the corner told Strelok that the mutants were due another culling.
Some time later, the secretary emerged from the sub-basement tunnels, without Strelok. Nobody worried, though. He'd come up when he was done.
