Jan 03 12:39:43 108 PA - KEC Sneaky - TP

From Chronicles

Jan 03 12:39:43 108 PA.

VIXEN'S QUARTERS, GOLDEN CARAFE

The turn of the year, while perhaps a time for celebration, is a poor time to be caught outside in the middle of what used to be the State of Missouri. Outside, a desperate, howling wind is whipping a wicked combination of blowing flakes from snowdrifts, and pea-sized hail shooting from the sky. The temperatures are at least twenty-degrees below freezing, and the snow on the ground averages about two-feet thick. All in all, a bad day to venture outside if you still want to be able to see, hear, walk easily and quickly, and of course, not shiver or tempt frostbite on exposed skin.

Vixen is very much not outside. At the Golden Carafe, she's home and planning on staying home for the time being. Her coat, belts and weapons shed for a cozier outfit. Shirts, loose sleep shirt and socks. She's actually in the spare room at the moment, curled up in a chair with a certain computer and radio set up on the desk. Her headjack linked to the computer, eyes on the screen as she manipulates it sans hands.

A muted *thump*thump*thump* comes from the door. The internationally recognized audio communication, passed down through the centuries since the inception of "personal living space," that asks, "Hey. Someone wants to talk with you." However, beyond that, there is nothing.

Vixen looks up, frowning softly at the interruption to her day. "Who..?" She lifts a hand to undo the datacord, then rises. Her coat is near the door and she goes to it at once. Slipping the heavy garment on. A little quick protection just in case. Though she looks a bit odd with that and her comfy clothes on. The pistol is in the closet. She casually gets that as well, but keeps it hidden as she peers out the peep hole to see who is there.

Two familiar faces wait outside the door. Human males, both, and each one rather tall. The shorter of the two, standing immediately before the door has colored dreadlocks of alternating red and white. As before, he is dressed in what might be described as a dark gray, casual business suit, with a neat and perfectly-woven green tie running down the center. A low fabric fedora is placed on his head, and probably because of the cold weather beyond the building’s walls, the man is wrapped in a knee-length overcoat. Again, as before, a large energy pistol is within easy reach at his waist, just barely tied enough to be considered legal to tote around the city. He also wears the same obviously-enhanced "sunglasses," and may have possibly gained an ear implant since he was last seen. Further back is the huge and rather interestingly complex fellow, Gus, doing exactly what he did the last time; looking out for people coming closer than he wants. Of course, this time, inside a building, that kind of bouncing is done differently. The man immediately before the peep hole wears a look of bored interest.

Vixen frowns faintly at the two, then slowly opens the door. "Not real subtle," she murmurs once the door is cracked open for her to peek out at them. "What's the word? You'll excuse me if I don 't invite you in, but I'm not exactly prepared for guests today."

There is no greeting, just delving into immediate matters at hand. The man's head turns enough to obviously look Vixen up and down. Blandly, “Sexy choice,” likely addressing her garb. He clears his throat quickly. "Shady was a little impressed with what you did a few weeks ago. I'd like to discuss some further matters along a similar line. Of course, not in the hallway. I'd rather not come back later." The man's speech is precisely clipped, and he seems to keep his body motions at a premium – save for his jaw and what seem to be possibly a new chewing tobacco habit. Vixen is not acknowledged by name, and neither does he offer his name, if he had ever offered it in the past. However, he clearly expects to be allowed in.

Vixen purses her lips, then steps back a bit to open the door. She slips her pistol into her coat and says, "Have a seat, lets talk business." There is a couch and some chairs. And she's not sexily dressed. Cute would be a closer term for it. She doesn't bother to close it, but once they're in the door is shut and she crosses her arms over her chest, considering the two.

The front-man enters and thanks Vixen as if it were her idea, not his suggestion. Stepping further into her quarters, he hangs his coat over the back of a chair, sits in another chair, and looks around for something to rest his feet on. Not bothering to wait for his target of conversation to catch up herself, he begins, "Lady, when I say that my higher-up was impressed, keep in mind that 'impressed' is both a subjective and relative term. For what you're asking of us, one job conducted in fairly benign territory isn't anything much more impressive than flashing me your tits right now. But yeah, at least we know you aren't a total fuck-up.” The man pauses long enough to straighten his tie, offer a shallow smile, and spit out a wet bulb of chaw-juice right onto the floor.

"The point," Vixen prompts. "Lets get to it. What's next? Details, then you two can go on about your business," she replies, her tone kept low and smooth. No, not too much in the mood for banter.

At the risk of reiterating himself, the contractor takes a vaguely deep breath and states, "Shady has something harder for you. More impressive. Something to prove that you're more than just a nice pair of tits, if you follow the metaphor. Again, nice clothes, by the way." He shrugs slightly, turning his head to look directly at his female host. "It's tough. Though if you're as good as you say you are, it shouldn't be. You interested, or should I show myself out? Because babe, there are a lot of tits out there." A finger is raised momentarily to his ear - but nothing comes of it.

Vixen rolls her eyes and says, "Look, if I wasn't interested, I wouldn't have let you in. Could you stop running your mouth and get down to telling me what this impressive thing to do is? And next time, send a letter or something. Simple, to the point, not making a fucking mess on my floor."

Apparently unfazed by complaints and orders, the man in the neat suit briefly asks, "You're familiar with the Enhancement Center, I hope? If you are, gimme a rundown of what you know about their operations. The more information you have, the more impressed I'll be, the more likely I'll be to keep talking." His jaw works circularly a few times, working on the wad of chewing tobacco between lip and gum. He does politely allow, "You have a cup or something?"

Vixen frowns faintly, but she turns to go to the kitchen space. "It's a big ass hospital and cyber spot. Had all my cyber put in there. I don't know much about their day to day shit.. I got enough to look after without following them. Prices are reasonable and the people that work there know what they're doing." She comes back with an old, expendable cup and hands it over. "What do they have to do with what you want me to do?"

He eyes Vixen for a moment, apparently mulling over her words. Then, "Fine. This job comes in two parts. First, tap into the Enhancement Center's security system. So we can see what they see, maybe even have our own system piggy-backed on theirs. Some small control over what it sees - and what it doesn't.” He straightens his tie again. "Think you can handle that? If not, I won't bother with the second part of the job."

Vixen crosses her arms again and considers the idea. After a few moments, she breathes out and says, "I can probably do it. Depends where they keep their gear, what sort of set up they've got. I'll have to try scoping it out, but it won't be easy. We'll see how it goes. What's the second part?"

Spit, ping, a bit of wet chaw goes into the old cup. "They're doing some new research. Dragon Juicer conversion experiments. Get us into their medical database, real-time, because we're rather interested in those experiments. Don't need audio-visual feeds from the operating rooms, just the data. Both of these - security system and medical data - we want it wireless and encrypted." The tall man reaches into one of his pockets, then tosses a piece of paper toward the woman. It reads simply: 219.01. "Put it on that frequency, use the PUFI-4 encryption algorithm like last time. Key in the password, 'Newt184x.' Gus will get in later and fix things." He waves a disinterested hand toward Vixen. "You pay for everything. We don't bankroll tits. Shady's giving you three days this time before we move on. But you do this job, prove that you can give us a real blowjob, not just a cheap massage parlor handjob, and well," the man shrugs in a somewhat affirmative way. "We might talk some real business. You got any questions?" He smirks slightly, and adds, "Is there anything that I might be able to do for you? Beyond suggesting that you wear something other than lingerie?" Lingerie? Sexy? Cute? Probably doesn't really matter which single adjective one might use.

"You can be a bit less a prick for one," Vixen replies, sticking the paper into an inner pocket of her coat. "Three days is pretty slim for a job like this if you want it done right. Maybe you should have gave me this one earlier so I could make sure and do it right, rather than rush it if there's a deadline on the info."

"Well, not everything can be planned, and opportunities need to be seized when they present themselves." The 'prick' comment is ignored. He leans forward and sits more purposefully in his seat, and finally removes his sunglasses. Apparently, he just has nice blue eyes. After giving his hostess a very long, hard gaze - and touching his ear a few times, nodding - he reaches deep into an inner pocket within his overcoat. Slowly is retrieved a color photograph of a woman who looks vaguely like Vixen. "Her name is Lehaya Marteien. New girl at a local tech company, and we just happened to hear that she's up to make a light inspection and maintenance work at the Enhancement Center sometime in the next week. Couldn't help but notice that she kind of looks like you." He waves an open palm over his face and then hands over the photo. "See, opportunities like this aren't scheduled. Maybe you can do something with yourself. Match up some more. Don't have papers or anything, but it's a little edge the Shady's being nice enough to extend." The man rises to his feet and points. "You can keep the picture. Incidentally, it's pretty widely known that she's a flirt, at the very least. Maybe keep that in mind if you decide to take the cover. Like I said, it's real thin, but it's something. We'll be going." If he and his companion aren't stopped, they'll be out the door without any more pleasantries, information, or advice.

Vixen takes the picture and eyes it. Her lips pursed faintly. After a few moments she nods slightly and says, "I could work with this," she murmurs. When they start to go, she doesn't stop them. And indeed, she'll follow after to close up the door behind them. She's got a bit of thinking to do, after all.

Preparing for something like this isn't so easy. But getting clothing similar to the girl in the picture isn't too hard. Nor is packing up a good mix of toys for the trip. Including buying a few extra connectors and a small transmitter, just in case adjustments can't be made to have the KEC's own gear transmit for her, without adding to it. The disguise is what takes some doing. She'll practice the days between getting the job and the job itself. Such that she can better prepare herself for the day when she does go to try out her infiltration. On the day, she'll walk out to the KEC and simply go right in the front door. After all, she's hear to do work.

KINGSDALE ENHANCEMENT CENTER: ENTRYWAY

The entryway to the Kingsdale Enhancement Center is unusual, though perhaps not so for the first few days of the year 108 PA. Aside from the standard comings and goings of those being repaired and/or coming in with wads of cash to pay for enhancement, other citizens are trying to crowd the entryway, hiding from the blustery snow and cold temperatures outside. Not that those of the KEC are happy about it. To the right of the entryway, somewhat inside the door and sheltered from the immediate weather, is one figure that stands out from the others, in many ways. A woman, exceedingly tall, well over seven-foot from boots to hairline. It may be a toss-up as to what one would notice of her first; the enormous height, or the fact that she has four large, very muscular arms. Still, she manages to be quite attractive at the same time. A pleasant face of tanned skin, blue eyes, and blond hair that for the moment is tied up in a very controlled bun. Men, at the very least, would probably notice a quite ample chest that she seems to be doing next to nothing to control as per the exposure of cleavage and points beyond. Even wearing a scandalously short leather miniskirt - though in a "classy" dark blue that matches her barely-closed halter-top. Even a rather sexy, seductive expression that men or women-inclined women might find quite alluring. Still, despite all of that loveliness, and of course, the four arms and height, it's clear that she's here for a reason, and it's clear that that reason is security. Four vibro-swords cross her back, and a standard handgun, probably a Colt .45 rides her hip, pressed close to a neural mace. A highly-illegal weapon (at least, for toting in the city) rests against one leg, a heavy ion pulse rifle. Though her eyes roam unhappily over those clustering in the relative warmth, she's doing a good job of keeping them herded near the entry, and allowing in only those who seem to have legitimate business at the Enhancement Center. "Seem to have" meaning that she's carefully checking for identification of all those who try to get past. So carefully, that upon spotting Vixen attempting to just walk in to work, "Hey, hey, hey, sweetheart. Who are you and why should I care?"

Vixen is going into this mess almost defenseless. She has her holdout pistol tucked away, trusting it to go undetected. But other than that, she's not armed or armored. It wouldn't fit, now would it? Her hair dyed right, contacts, make up and all to disguise her features close to that of the woman who is supposed to be here. She comes in with a searching look and when the security woman engages her, Vixen grins and walks right up to her. "Sure can," she says, her voice light and relaxed. "Just looking for the guy in charge, tall stuff. Got some work to do on the systems and it probably won't help no one to have me wandering around looking for it."

The exceptionally-tall, unusually-numbered-limbed woman stops and gazes at Vixen for a good long while. Then, very hesitantly, "Yeah, I heard sum'tn 'bout that. Not exactly what I expected, though. Björk's friend, right?" She continues to look at the other woman. "You do something new with your eyes?"

"New lenses," Vixen says with a casual grin, a hand lifting to lightly rest by her cheek. "You like 'em? Not so crazy as getting new eyes in.. been thinking about those mood eyes, but I dunno. Boys might think they're kinda weird, right? But who knows. Might be able to afford them after a few more paychecks. Then the money'd be going right back here, wouldn't it?"

Vixen's comment's elicit a good, knowing, woman-to-woman laugh from the Center's first line of defense. "You got that right! Exactly why I decided to keep my own," the woman says, tapping finger to temple. She smiles then, and jerks her head inward. "Go on in, they're probably waiting for you, hun." That said, she returns to watching the entryway.

"Yeah sure," Vixen says, lifting a hand. "Don't work too hard," she adds as she slips inside of the place. And rather than try and be sneaky, she walks right up to the reception counter as if she were expected. Because she is, sort of. "Heya, I'm here to fix up your systems. Got someone to show 'em to me? So as I don't gotta wander around and get lost?"

KINGSDALE ENHANCEMENT CENTER: RECEPTION AREA

The entry and reception desk is quite professional. A very futuristic, thirty-foot-long platform that curves around its occupants protectively, leaving the rear open. The front is solid brushed-surface metal of some kind, hiding everything behind it. Two women and one man are seated behind the desk. The man and one of the women appear to be cybernetically-enhanced humans, while the other female is of an indeterminate, vaguely robin's-egg blue skin and exceedingly long, thin neck. They're all quite pleasant, obviously very good at their jobs of taking names, cash, suggesting preliminary therapies, and so on. The entire room is very well lit, and from all angles, so that while many shadows may be cast, they are all wiped out by a separate bright light. Across the reception desk is a rather tall man dressed in muted auburn clothing of rather boring leathers, with frills along the creases and pleats of arms and leg. Seems to be spending most of his time pestering the D-bee woman with phrases like, "Chicks dig me because I rarely wear any underwear, and when I do it is usually something erotically exotic...want to see?" immediately followed by, "Are you wearing space pants? Cause your ass is out of this world." His face is equally average, but with a large handlebar mustache that perhaps may draw the eye. All of his features are dark, like some kind of cliché Mexican Bandito. He appears to be lightly armed, with neural mace at his side, an empty handle, a standard handgun along his other hip, and a vibro-sword across his back. The woman seems to be humorously annoyed, as if she puts up with this every day of her working life. There's a door off to the side of the reception room that leads to a somewhat smaller room that looks out with large, obviously strongly-reinforced windows with a view of the entire reception area. The reception room isn't busy, but there are people coming and going, moving from this place to that place in the course of tending to patients, and patients moving between surgery and therapy chambers. When Vixen speaks up, the woman who for the moment is being left alone smiles. "Hi there, you must be Lehaya. Atlas Security? Kind of surprised that you weren't here a few days ago." The mustachioed man has yet to actually notice anyone but the female D-bee. ooc go ahead and roll another perception, please

"Oh, you know how things go," Vixen replies as she leans against the counter, head on hands. "Paperwork this, too much work that." She makes a face. "Ain't the first time I had to show up late somewheres. But don't worry, I'll make sure your gear is still tip top." She smiles broadly and says, "Well, when I get to see where it is anyway." She glances towards the guy with the mustache, but only for a moment.

Something apparently registers with the blue D-bee woman, as she finally gives the odd man a silly frown, taps the counter, then points at Vixen and her costume. "Hey! Björk! You're girlfriend's here, and you're going to keep making passes at me?" She then frowns and shakes her head. 'Björk' then turns his head, sees his girlfriend, and shouts and that silly deep baritone, "Lehaya, babe! You gotta nice set of legs, what time do they open?" Apparently, he is enamored enough with Vixen's appearance to actually get off the counter and lean in to hug his girlfriend.

Who can say what's going through Vixen's head at the moment. On the outside she rolls with the situation, hugging the man back. Not too tight, not too loose. "Not 'til after work at least," she says with a casually teasing tone.

Björk stands up enough to look at her with an interested gaze. "You smell different. Feel kind of different, too. Voice?" Nothing apparently really stands out as totally wrong to him, but 'not completely right' may be appropriate. Right after a final questioning, "You put on weight?" he leans in for a kiss.

Vixen gives the man a light slap on the cheek and shifts away. "Just for that, you can wait even longer, boy," she tells him with a light pout. She sniffs and turns back to the receptionist. "Guys.. just don't know how to be sometimes."

The two women at the counter give knowing laughs, even as Lehaya's boyfriend (she has an odd taste in men, apparently) offers up a quick rump-grab-squeeze and, "Do you have a mirror in your pocket? Because I could see myself in your pants." That said, the blue-skinned woman winks at Vixen and calls, "Hey, Björk! You're security, right? Shouldn't you be doing something?" That distracts him long enough for the other woman to smile at Vixen and wave her hand over toward the obvious security room. "Go on in, Lehaya, we'll keep him off of you."

Vixen stiffens at the touch. And it's good for this fellow that she's undercover. "Get used to that feeling, you won't be feeling it for a while," she shoots back at him instead and, when she gets waved over the young woman starts off, a hand on the pack of gear that she has against her back. She did come prepared, as any good tech would.

KINGSDALE ENHANCEMENT CENTER: SURVEILLANCE OFFICE

Security and surveillance here at the Enhancement Center is obviously another area where the proprietors have not skimped. Dozens of cameras, microphones, various odd sensors, and other devices are wired into a whole network of computers with a full twenty-count large multi-function, full-color static and motion video displays with real-time feeds, including those of the six video cameras that had been spotted at the entry. Definitely the security brains of the Enhancement Center, but not the brains immediately tied into the medical system's records on research and success. The two uniformed officers indoors - two human men, lightly armed but with two communications devices each basically available on immediate demand - expertly flip through all of this information, analyzing incoming and outgoing traffic and the security of the reception, operating and therapy rooms. The presence of two officers and the giant windows opening out into the reception area makes it essentially impossible to not be seen and noted. Another door, somewhat recessed into the wall as far away from the entry door as possible, is labeled in blatantly obvious letters, "NO ADMITTANCE ." As Vixen enters the room, both men stand, with one of them instinctively placing a hand on his sidearm - just to be safe. He smiles and nods at Vixen, and says, "You'd be from Atlas, then?" He's a fairly young man, probably early twenties. "I know that Björk let you in, but I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't ask for your ID and a work order, ma'am."

Vixen planned for this eventuality and as she's asked for the goods, she nods and pulls her bag to her side. "Yeah, gimme a moment." Her lips twist in a light purse as she pokes around in the bag, rummaging gear with a casual recklessness. Not so worried about not breaking something by the look. After a few moments she pulls out a folder and opens it up. It has a few sheets of official looking, but fake papers that she doesn't show them. Instead, she flips through it for a few moments before becoming a little more frantic and worried.

The other man slowly stands as Vixen fumbles gently, and the first man gently tightens his hold on his weapon. Still, nowhere near actually getting up and shooting anyone, just doing his best to keep what is probably a really good job for someone his age. "Ah, ma'am? The work-order, please? At least some kind of ID?" It's a sure-but-unsure tone of voice coming from the second man: "Björk seems okay with it." The first man shakes his head negatively. "No, no. I'd rather be in trouble with him than with the Boss, Jack. I really am going to need something, ma'am." He then does that odd, stand-on-toes thing that men often do when women start fumbling in bags.

Vixen knows how to handle guys like this. She starts to sniff and flips through the folder again. Then stuffs it into her bag and rummages for a few more moments before she looks up, a stricken expression presented. "I must have left them back on my desk. The papers and such. And the place is all the way across town and they never did give me a van like the others got and if I walk all the way back there I'll never get back on time to do this job and the three others I gotta do before seven." All of which she just lets flow out in a near run on sentence. Her eyes wide, moistening just a bit. "C'mon guys, cut a girl a break, would ya? Ain't like I'm gunna break things. I'll bring the order by later and get it all signed and such, alright? I just really gotta get to work otherwise I'm gunna miss my quota."

The two men look at each other briefly, and the second man, "Jack," apparently, waves his hand dismissively. "C'mon, Björk let her in. Maybe I should go get him." As he starts to move, the other man waves him back, putting on obviously a stern face. Whether he means it, doesn't mean it, or only means it in the course of his job, he maintains his young professionalism. "I'd really like to help you, ma'am, but this place is big, y'know. I just can't let people in to start fooling with stuff. Even if Björk is okay, Björn might not be, and I don't want to be on her bad side. People think that your boyfriend's the Man, but he ain't, y'know." He sighs and looks around the room, randomly. "Maybe you at least have someone I can call?"

"That'd just get me in trouble," Vixen protests with a sigh. "If they find out I forgot the papers again, I might lose my job." And she looks perfectly miserable at the prospect of it. She then looks over at the more sympathetic of the two. "Well.. you know, maybe he can walk me around?" She perks up and looks back to the more serious man. "I mean, he'll make sure I'm not breaking stuff, right?" She smiles broadly, her expression almost sunny. "I bet you could handle things for like.. an hour maybe? Hard to tell how long it might take, but I don't figure it should take too much longer than that."

The first fellow, the young one, gazes purposefully at Vixen for a long while, checking her up and down as if she were a woman at a strip-club, except that he's clearly doing it professionally, not luridly. "Well.. I'm gonna go talk to Björk. But Jack's gonna stay here. So, y'know... don't.. um.. don't try anything funny. 'cause I'll be back, I'm sorry, I'm just really going to probably calls this one in. But you can inspect things until I get back." He looks over to Jack. "Just don't let her do anything. It's like the Ivory Lady. Look, but don't touch. Right back, ma'am." If nothing else is said to stop him, he will slide out the door and start over to the entry counter. Jack will remain behind and do exactly what he's been told to do. Watch the woman who wants to play with the security systems.

Vixen sighs and looks a bit dejected when her idea is shot down. Though she makes the most of it and as the other man goes, she offers a faint smile to the one who lingers. "Oh well, I guess at least I can start looking for what I need to do. Maybe I won't get too delayed, right?" She turns and considers the room for a moment before she starts to wander. Her expression given a somewhat innocent sort of 'air headedness' while behind those eyes, a careful mind starts searching for the systems she's meant to compromise. "So I guess he's the boss around here, huh?" Asked casually as she does her looking.

"Wha?" The question takes Jack by surprise. "Um, well, not really the boss, but yeah, when we're on duty, he's over me." Crossing his arms, Jack gives the appearance of a man who isn't concerned about having one of the obvious higher-up security man's girlfriend traipsing around, even if it *is* in the heart of the security operation. Perhaps at an attempt to make small talk, he asks, "So, um.. you, you been with Björk long? He's a good guy. Funny guy. I mean, y'know, *good* funny." While his attention isn't totally focused on Vixen's activities, neither is he completely blind to them. The security system, as mentioned, is a full bank of computers and monitors. Two keyboards and one central unit between them that appears to be locked down, perhaps electro-magnetically. Wires have been neatly hidden behind walls, though one of the system banks does have a few access panels that are not actually open, but neither do they appear to be locked. The system is definitely, completely functional and online.

Vixen wanders over towards the access panels as she answers, a soft snort given. "We are.. for now. He's ok, I guess, but he can be a jerk sometimes. Don't know if for now will keep going, you know?" She hunkers down to peer at them and slip open open, head leaned, lips softly pursed as she begins to look for just where she needs to plug in to get into the security system.

Jack takes in a sharp breath through clenched teeth, reaching out an uncomfortable hand. "Uh, ma'am, you really can't do that. I mean, you seem nice, and I understand you don't want to lose your job, or anything. But I don't want to lose my job, either, y'know?" His head snaps up, and he points out the window. "Okay, looks like Björk's saying something. So, um.. god.. just stop poking around until Stane gets back. Please?" The last is a rather begging question. Meanwhile, within the accessible depths of the immediate innards of the security system various flashing lights indicate activity. Probably just because people like to see flashing lights, not that they're actually necessary.

Vixen sighs at the lingering man. "I'm not touching," she says softly. "I'm looking. See?" She closes the panel, straightening up to move around to the monitors and keyboards. "Don't be such a worry wart. I know what I'm doing. Only thing keeping me from actually doing my work is a silly little bit of paper. Pretty odd, considering all the computers around here and all, huh?"

Jack offers up what may be more information than he should. "The computers? Sure, yeah. But we're separate from anything else. Totally disconnected with the rest of the city's information grid. Just can't take the chance of people hacking in." An ironic statement. He seems to have accepted the differentiation between looking and touching, but points out, "Okay, looks like Stane is coming back. He's.. um.. he's saying something, but I can't tell what. Looks like Björk's still talking, to. Maybe coming over?" Hesitation. "No, no, he's okay. Just, just a second." For a short while, he will be occupied looking out the door, waiting for his immediate superior to return.

A good something to know. "I hate waiting," Vixen sighs, turning towards the keyboards. As the man becomes occupied, she'll try and use these few moments to see just what she can see in the system. Get a sense for it and see if she'll need to install that transmitter or if, while of the grid, there is radio communications she can use without adding hardware. She's already got her program to insert. Prepared beforehand, just needing to be set into the system and calibrated.

Stane arrives at the door, pushing Jack inside. "Björk says it's okay, and it's our asses if we don't let the lady do her work." He also sighs, and states, "Ma'am, I've also been instructed to tell you, 'Here's a cred'" - he holds out a cred - "call your roommate, because you won't be home tonight." That said, the young man looks innocently up to the corner, clearly trying to make it obvious that they're not his words, but without actually commenting on his own immediate superior. The subtle clicking of keyboard that is of course necessary in able to get information about a system thankfully goes unnoticed, and then, is apparently perfectly fine. Even if it went beyond the scope of normal 'light inspection and maintenance.' Three obvious programs are identified. The reception of video, storage of video, and ability to traverse the cameras. The primary, overall control system, however, is out of reach. It would likely have been out of reach at all times, to anyone, due to the simple fact that the *really* secure security is far beyond the scope of this simple room.

Vixen looks up and eyes the credit. Still playing damaged, she sniffs and says, "If he's lucky, maybe. But I gotta get this done first." She shifts her bag off. "Won't be doing no good without a job." She continues to check the computer lightly. A soft frown comes to her, then she turns and moves around to hunker down and open up two of the panels, making a small production about checking the computer over. "I think I can do what I need here.. looks like everything is pretty ok. Some tweaks and such. Though I should check over the other stuff too. You just got your security here. The research people probably got their own servers, huh?" She glances back towards the two guys, then turns back to her work.

As the computer systems settle in with hardware and software working, tapped into the Enhancement Center's video monitoring, the two men just watch over Vixen and generally busy themselves with other things. They can't leave, they can't do their jobs because the system's occupied. Hence, this office is taken up with a lot of idle shuffling. Of course, at the moment, the gentlemen who'd come to Vixen's door a few days back would still have to actually walk in and use these terminals. But perhaps a separate transmission point is being considered. Jack and Stane offer up the relevant information, "Yeah, MedSec has their own system. You know how we're detached from the city grid? They're even detached from *our* grid. Very, very, secretive stuff there. Honestly, I don't know who, beyond the Boss and the two head doctors, actually have access."

"Well, if they don't have techs looking over that stuff, then really, I should go make sure it's all in working order, you know?" Vixen looks over towards the two guys. "So who does a girl gotta talk to to give 'em a clean bill of health?" She slips the transmitter out of her bag after dragging it over, casually concealing herself as she slips it into one of the access panels. She'll lean down in enough to hike her rear some. An added factor of distraction as she adds, "I mean, if I'm here to fix up the computers, should be all of 'em, right?"

Jack is stunned at the view of Vixen's (or Lehaya's) rear end. Clearly in no way able to watch her screw with the security system. In fact, he's basically just... speechless. Maybe the man hasn't gotten laid in a really, really, really long time. Stane, on the other hand, would probably give it one of those horizontal-hand-wiggle, fifty-fifty, take-it-or-leave-it expressions. But then, "I don't know. Medical Core isn't my responsibility, 'cept to keep out people who don't belong. You, ma'am, don't belong, not without some kind of paperwork. I'm real sorry and all, but as bad as it might already be for me, no way in hell is anyone getting to the MedCore without something hard in my hands. Or Björk's hands. Someone higher up in the security ladder than me." The young man is polite, but this time, he is obviously sure of himself, and very unlikely to change his mind.

"Well, I'll just have to talk to Björk then," she sighs as she finishes up her insertion of the transmitter. Set to the right frequency and prepared to transmit its encrypted signal. And settled back enough that it shouldn't be found for a good, long time. Here's hoping. "I think I'm about done here," she says then, settling back to close up the panels. "Nothing too bad. A little optimization and such. Backups look good. No hardware seems to be messin' up." She closes up her bag and stands, turning with a bounce towards the two. "Thanks for the help, boys. I appreciate it."

"Yes, ma'am, thanks for coming. Ah.. good luck to you and Björk," Stane offers, rapidly followed by Jack who stumbles over the exact same words. With their part in this mess out of the way, they will eventually just try to settle their way back into doing their jobs. Nice guys, perhaps slightly gullible... but considering that they did at least check with a superior, obviously good at what they do. Vixne / Lehaya seem to be quickly forgotten, though possibly with a "don't let the door hit you on the ass on your way out" mentality.

Vixen doesn't let her mind dwell on them either. Already she's got her thoughts set on the second objective. Not letting herself be satisfied with one, she goes looking for Björk, which will involve wandering around until she finds him and playing the part of a slightly spaced computer tech.

The reception area is basically as it was before, though with slightly more in the way of traffic moving to and fro, using this room as a transportation hub. The blue D-bee woman apparently has some kind of unique sense, because as the security room's door makes a click that would be nearly inaudible to someone standing immediately next to it, the blue woman snaps her eyes up to look in that direction. Recognizing Lehaya, she raises a greeting hand and smiles, "They let you do your job in there? Stane's a good kid, but still a bit too literal in the interpretation of the rules, y'know?" Folding her hands together on the table, "That it for you?"

"Yeah, s'fine. Though the computers for the med people ain't in there," Vixen notes as she comes up to the reception counter and it's blue attendant. "They're hidden off somewhere else, so I can't really make sure they're ok." She sighs and looks around. "So where is Björk? So maybe he can get me to 'em so I can finish up here."

The woman dips and shakes her head at the same time. "He's off somewhere. I think that he's in a consultation. I don't really know." The D-bee has a pleasant, bell-tinkling voice. "I don't think that he could let you into the medical area, though. Honestly, I'm just a receptionist, of course, but the MedCore is more like, umm... it's one of those things that people assume exists, but there's no proof of. Like a man who can commit!!" She chuckles at that little joke, then adds, "No, really, I can only tell you where it *isn't.* And that is -" she lifts a pen and points toward the security room from which Vixen has just emerged. "Maybe I could call him up if you want?" Her fingers hover over some kind of local communication system.

Vixen makes a face at the obscurity of the place. "People and their secrets. Always being so.. well, secret about 'em." She sighs and nods her head. "Might as well call him. I guess if he can't help, he'll be missing out on some things later. What good's a boy that can't do things for you anyhow?" She smirks and leans against the counter, glancing around with an idle flit of her eyes. She assumes cameras are on her at all times.

With a nod, the D-Bee punches a few buttons, all of which light up brightly at her touch, and she speaks into removable headset, "Björk, can you come down here, please? Your girlfriend needs your help, and she says that she's going to keep the store closed for a week or two if you don't give it to her." A pause, then a the woman rolls her eyes and sighs. "No, I didn't mean 'give it to her' like that. Just come down here!" The woman offers a smirk of her own. "Honestly, dear, I don't know what you see in that man. But I guess if he's good for you, he's good for you. So you must known Björn, then? You know, they used to be an item." She leans forward conspiratorially at the last statement.

Vixen listens with faint amusement and when she's questioned on the man, she shrugs and says. "Been wondering that myself," she confides. Though at the note of the other he was an item with, she shrugs again. "Ain't like he's the first either. You know how it is and all."

"Oh, I sure due, dear." Any further conversation from the D-bee woman is cut short by Björk's appearance from around a corner leading to an unknown corridor. "Hey!, Leheya! I just changed my name to 'Milk,' and I do a body good!" He swaggers across the way, and begins to extend groping hands as he approaches closer. "Whaddya need, babe? Time for me to take you to bed?" Wow. He really doesn't beat around the bush. Probably not literally, either.

Vixen casually slaps at those hands. "Nu-uh," she tells him. "I need to do the medical computers." She steps back, her arms crossed over her chest. "I done the others, but I need you to get me to the others. Can't finish the job unless I do 'em all, right? Start with doing that for me and we'll see what comes tonight." She grins casually, keeping a little distance.

"Oh, I know what's going to be coming tonight. You know what I mean." Wink wink. Then Björk's expression becomes serious for the first time in Vixen's presence. "I'm glad that you think that of me, babe, but you know I already told you that the MedSec guys don't like us guys with heavy firepower." Heavy firepower? Okay. "I can't let you in. Not that I don't want to, but I don't even know the codes to the Core room if I did try to help out." Björk seems a bit despondent at not being the one-hundred percent, pure, dripping MAN that he probably wants to be seen as.

Vixen pouts at that. "Well, how am I supposed to do the job, then?" She half turns away. "You sure you can't think of anything? Even if I could just check the software, it might be ok. I can test for hardware faults that way. Might not be perfect.. but I guess it might be better than nothing." She gives him a sidelong glance. "Or do you got nothing?"

"Oh, I got somethin'!" he jokes (?), hefting his belt upward. "But no, I really, truly, honestly can't help you out save trying to call down someone higher than me. You gone dumb or something, Lehaya? You were here last month for the same thing. You know they keep the cores separate. This medical shit is important to them. If it got out, hell -" Björk holds his hands out to his sides "- this place might lose its sole reason for existence. Like industrial espionage, I guess." Hmm, perhaps though the man may be amusingly vile, he actually is intelligent enough to hold down such an important post. "I guess..." he grimaces.. "we could call Atlas, and see if your boss could talk to my boss?"

Vixen sighs and twists her lips a little. "Don't call me dumb," she protests. "Don't call Atlas. They might find out I left my papers again," she murmurs lowly. "Maybe you can call someone here.. someone that knows you.. that can pull strings?" She sidles a little closer, still looking at him in a sideways way. "You're always telling me how you do here. Maybe you should do more showing." A light challenge in her voice.

Björk eyes his girlfriend suavely. He jerks his head backward, indicating the hallway from which he'd just come. "C'mon, I'll see what I can do." He will then turn and begin walking, probably just assuming that Lehaya will faithfully follow. Even if she hasn't been as flirtatious as he might normally expect. Perhaps trying to ignite that odd passion, he states without looking behind him, "Babe, there are 265 bones in the human body. How would you like one more?" It won't take long until he disappears around the corner.

Vixen smiles, bouncing her first few steps after him. "Play your cards right and we'll see," she replies lightly, a light smirk worn. She'll follow. And suppress the hot burning desire to see just how badly a well placed kick would hurt him. Hopefully she'll never see the clown again after this. For his sake.

Lehaya's boyfriend leads Vixen down an easy maze of hallways, deeper into the center of the building, yet still on the periphery. At one point, around one turn, there is a sudden influx of six nurses, looking very official, coming from the direction vaguely as Björk is going. Because of the sudden distance between Vixen and her scout, he turns a corner, and for a few long seconds she will be out of sight, but with the little duckling-trail of nurses. As they themselves begin to slowly turn the corner, one drops some papers, and lags behind in the hall, temporarily blocking further progress. A door to a simple supply storeroom is right nearby, and while the door itself is not actually ajar, it by no means seems locked. A clever infiltrator may see this as an opportunity. Or not.

Vixen decides to go for broke and slips towards the storeroom. Worse to worse, she can play ditz. Better if she can find a way over without the eyes. She'll glide in, then take stock of the interior. Her nightvision sunglasses drawn out of a pocket to carefully survey the interior with just the little light from the door being left cracked open.

Thankfully in this kind of spy game, the mildly bumbling nurse was too busy gathering papers to notice Vixen's sudden disappearance. The storeroom is just that, a storeroom. Though things aren't exactly well-defined and colorful, the sliver of light is still quite sufficient to allow the glasses to display a wide variety of common items, ranging from office supplies of pens and data storage units, to lab coats and common medical equipment such as stethoscopes and surgical gloves. Unless someone were to be looking for a rather odd or unique item, it's probably in here.

Vixen frowns faintly, then decides to root around for a uniform. She needs to blend. She keeps an ear on the door, but otherwise she quickly rummages for and finds a uniform that looks like it will fit her petite shape. "Leo will like this," she murmurs to herself with a faint smirk as she slips the door closed fully, then starts to change. Her 'work' clothing stuffed into the bottom of her bag. She finds a nice cart she can use to carry that around without looking conspicuous. And a face mask, for a last resort. That she slips into a pocket of the uniform. A little hat to help disguise her hair.. and she's ready. She'll wait and listen for a lull outside before she slips out and starts to search for her target. The med computers.

As Vixen emerges from the storeroom, she manages to slip into the increased line of traffic... rather clumsily. There's a severe bump from behind (relative to the direction she'd been traveling), and a very perturbed man in a lab coat shouts, "Watch where you're going, idiot! There are a thousand people out there who would happily have your job!" With a glare, he scoots his way around, mumbling something about, "stupid dime-a-dozen nurses" and how doctors have to put up with them. However, a number of other people, men and women alike, silently support her with nods and winks. One knowing woman interprets Vixen coming out of a dark room and straightening her uniform with a long wink and a whispered, "Good for you." Otherwise, the Enhancement Center's traffic continues as normal, with patients, doctors, nurses, orderlies, and all the rest going about their merry ways to keep the Center functioning. There is no one superior direction that really presents itself.

Now, Vixen is looking to get as little attention as possible. So when she's yelled at, she merely reacts with demure silence. And a soft smile for the nurse that straightens her uniform. Though the moment she can break away from them, she does and slips herself off into a random hallway. With no real guidance, she can only start to methodically search, moving through the halls with an air of purpose. She always looks like she's going somewhere. If she can, she avoids cameras. And she keeps her enhanced hearing primed to pick up on that man's voice. If she hears him, she'll avoid going anywhere near him. No need to be found out just yet.

There are plenty of random hallways to be found, even in such a disciplined place such as this. However, neither is it bereft of people. Few, but still present. There is little to be seen, save for the human and D-bee traffic, two security cameras, one pointing each direction - it's pretty hard to get away from them completely - and interestingly, one port along the wall with simple instructions as how to use the community-access information terminal. As this is common knowledge, no password is required for keyboard input, and a headjack port is equally ready.

Vixen avoids the cameras, but when she sees the access terminal, she heads right over to it. Here she can find her way. She wants a map and will seek out one. One that will either show her where the server room is by marker.. or lack of marker. Places with no info are very suspect, given the descriptions she's had of the place.

When one asks the right questions of a computer, simple information is usually easy to come by. The informational system, which identifies itself as, "Uncle," readily displays the position of the MedCore. Not surprisingly, the most sensitive information is buried deep within the building. However, the path to actually *get* there, is not considered sensitive information, and a multi-colored map is supplied. The route is complex by design, but even mazes can be navigated with maps. The MedCore is identified only as a blue circle. Any further information about what actually exists at that point is not supplied. A short while after this information is displayed, there is a male voice. Not anyone sneaking up, just a technician making his way down the corridor. "Forgot your way, nurse?" He seems amicable enough, not interrogating.

Vixen looks up towards the technician and offers him a soft, demure smile. "Yes. Ahh.. it's my first day. I was bringing some things.." She pauses and considers the map, picking out a place that sounds like it would have nurses and is near the MedCore. "Here. This is a big building." She lightly touches the display to quiet it and looks back towards the tech. "Is it true? What I hear about the MedCore? That it's very.. secret? Do any of us work there? Nurses."

The man chuckles lightly and pats Vixen on the shoulder in a fatherly kind of way. "You *are* new, aren't you? No, most of the time, nurses have no need to even know much of anything in the MedCore. I barely know anything about it, and I'm in the Safety Department!" He laughs again, then becomes more serious, reaching one hand down to rummage in his pocket. "Looks like someone forgot to give you your radiation badge. Here -" he drags out a small square piece of a framed, film-like material with but a single LED -" put that on your collar, right here." He taps the appropriate spot. "I really don't know much about anything but safety, though. Maybe doctors send you on errands?" The pleasant man then shrugs, pats Vixen's shoulder again, and moves back the direction he'd been going. "Appointment of my own, nurse! Hope you enjoy it here."

Vixen does a lot of nodding, letting him talk. Absorbing what he has to say and offering a small wave when he goes. The badge she puts on. Anything to make her look more official. She then starts off, going the way the map showed her to get to the MedCore. A relaxed expression worn, but she keeps an eye out for cameras and other potential troubles that might compromise her disguise.

For the most part, the trip through the Enhancement Center's labyrinthine corridors is uneventful. In fact, Vixen makes it to within only three turns before being stopped by a large, matronly woman wearing a nurse's uniform. Her collar is a bright green color, unlike the pure white of what the apparently "common" nurses wear. She calls out in a tone that would make Mary Poppins sound dull - and mean - "You there! Stop! What are you doing down here? I don't recognize you. Who do you report to?" A rapid-fire series of questions and statements. Her arms are crossed against a large, but sagging bosom. The few other people may slow for a moment of interest, but otherwise, it is simply the elder nurse, and the invader.

Vixen keeps her demure persona and stutters, "I was.. well, I was told to bring this. O-ver to.." She pauses, her head nodding towards the MedCore. "I'm new.. I was just told to do this," she says softly, her eyes dipping just a bit. "He didn't say to who, he was in a hurry."

The larger woman peers at Vixen for a long time, then suddenly and brazenly slaps her face, hard. "Nurses don't act like this except in the old sexist holovids. For God's sake, take some pride in yourself, woman!" She shakes her head stubbornly. "Hmm. Just he? A doctor? They can be like that. What are you bringing? Let me see it. I need to talk to this man, we're nurses, not slaves." She's obviously the kind of person who just acts without thinking. And talks without pausing. And generally does both at the same time, which is why this type of person is usually avoided whenever possible.

Vixen hardly has to play shocked when she gets slapped and she almost loses it on the woman. But manages to swallow what she'd love to say and disguise the flash in her eyes as simply straightening up. She pulls out some of the boxes she placed inside with her bag. Common supplies. Syringes, gauze and other sundries. "He said they needed more." She's careful to keep her bag hidden as well.

"Syringes? Gauze? What, do they need a battlefield nurse down there? No, no. I think you come with me." That said, she immediately heads back the way Vixen had just come, presumably expecting to be instantly followed, without question. The fact remains that for a short time, her eyes will be elsewhere, and perhaps her attention as well.

Vixen acts as if she might follow, though once the woman's eyes are elsewhere, she lets the brusque nurse go on about her way while, when she's sure few are looking, she fades off in another direction entirely. A soft curse under her breath as she decides to circle around and try coming at the MedCore from another direction. Assuming the woman will eventually backtrack to look for her. "Motherfucking clusterfuck in the making," she mutters softly to herself.

KINGSDALE ENHANCEMENT CENTER: MEDICAL CORE

Motherfucking clusterfuck though it may be, the fact is that all roads eventually lead to the entrance to the MedCore. But it's not just a simple cluster of walls. It's made of bland, obviously high-capacity steel or other metal alloy. The kind of thing that you'd need both a tank cannon and time to get through. The doorway is obvious, a simple outline resembling that of a late 19th century Wells Fargo safe. Two figures, one man, one women, and obviously security who take their jobs very seriously, flank the entry. It goes without saying that the recently-hacked cameras are everywhere. The upside, if there is one, is that so few people actually have any business in this place, it's essentially only the invader and the two guards - and cameras. Truly a potential motherfucking clusterfuck in the making.

Vixen doesn't pause as she approaches the entrance to the MedCore. She's already considering alternate options, even as she nears them. She expects scrutiny and she will lower her eyes demurely in the face of it. Quiet, mousy little nurse. No one to remember. "I'm bringing.. for them," she says softly, pausing at a respectful distance.

The man, a good 6'5" and bulky, arches an eyebrow and asks, "Them? Them who? There are no 'them' here." The woman, who is not nearly as polite as the four-armed woman at the entry, but equally tall, grunts the odd command, "Take off your coat. Now. Put it on the floor." Each officer's hand is quite readily near a heavy energy pistol.

Vixen blinks, obviously a bit confused and uncertain. "They said.." Her brow furrows and she takes off the light jacket that's part of the uniform, letting it drop. "It's my first day," she says, not sure what more to do after that. So she stands there, quite still.

The woman shakes her head. "I don't want to here 'they' or 'them' one more time. And no first-day nurse would ever be sent here." At that point, both she and the man will begin to draw their weapons, as she simultaneously instructs, "Take two steps to your left, and hold your arms like you're making a 'Y', or by God I'll shoot you dead right here."

Vixen purses her lips and says, "They must have played a joke on me." Sighed softly as she does as instructed. "Honestly, I was just told to bring the things here. I don't have anything." Which is true enough. She has no weapons on her.

The man pats Vixen down quite thoroughly and invasively, maintaining a ready grip on his weapon. "Nothing." He glances over at the woman. The Amazon keeps here eye on the 'nurse.' "Check the cart. Watch for explosives." The man will begin to do just that.

The bag in the lower part of the cart with towels stacked around and overtop of it, she hopes they won't get too invasive. The second tier syringes and gauze. And the top clear of anything. She stands quietly, her lips softly pursed with worry. Though it's a simple appearing sort. Nothing sinister about her. And she reacts not at all to the patting down.

After only a few moments of searching, the man comes up with Vixen's bag of tricks. After a careful inspection for tripwires, or any other funny-business, the bag is raised, opened, and displayed. He remains mute, but the woman does not. "Cute, girl. I'd plug you right here, but I think the Boss would like to ask you some questions." Her face pauses momentarily, and she says to the man, "Something wrong with the comm. Like someone hacked the system." Maybe she somehow misses putting two and two together. "Go get the Boss. I'll keep Miss Kitty and her bag of tricks here. Scene of the crime." The man obeys without question, only a nod, then a scowl at Vixen. "Everyone thinks they can outsmart us. Every one of them ends up regretting it," he sneers. Then, he's gone. Leaving only Vixen and a momentarily distracted woman fussing about comm being down and security cameras being "wonky."

Vixen maintains her harmless, confused persona even when she's found out. Not at all a threat, not at all worth the bother. Behind those eyes, her mind is raging. And the moment the man is out of earshot, she snarls and leaps at the woman. A needle pokes out from the tip of one finger and she goes for the nearest flesh she can find to jab it into the woman. Looking to pump her with sleep toxin. Then just cling for dear life as it kicks in.

"What the fuck!?" The Amazon-like woman is surprised enough that, despite her training and experience, she releases her grip on the pistol, which begins its inevitable fall to the ground. It gives her enough time to sidestep the oncoming needle. With an expert move, the woman then swivels on her heel, her leg coming up in a motion that would strike Vixen with her shin. Apparently a multi-tasker, she manages to call out, "Hey, someone!" A call which, for now, just echoes. The shin comes around.

Vixen jumps at the woman as the woman kicks at her. Grunting at the hit, but damn if she doesn't slam that finger into a soft spot. Doesn't matter where, it gets the sleep juice into her system. After that, Vixen all but tries to climb the woman to get a hand over her mouth. Otherwise, she will literally cling body to body, reducing the woman's ability to hit her with force.

Somehow, a city hacker has managed to take down one of the strongest beings inside one of the strongest buildings in all of Kingsdale. The female security guard is crumpled on the ground, with Vixen laying on top of her. The guard is out like a light, breathing, probably looking at a really bad headache later on. Only a giant door and locking mechanism now faces the invader attempting to access the MedCore. A locking mechanism that consists of a few different parts, from a hand scanner, to an alphanumeric keypad, to a headjack port.

Vixen curses under her breath as she gets up and, out of spite, stomps on the woman's chest in a bounce of pure frustration. She then drags the woman over firmly, using her tightly wound strength, fueled by annoyance to get the woman close enough to get her hand up on the scanner. It's a long shot, but it will save her time for sure.

The hand scanner flashes a number of times in rapid succession, then a series of horizontal and vertical lines move across the security woman's palm, centering occasionally like a targeting sight on various places. After fifteen long seconds, a small display lights up with a simple: "Agent Hamilton recognized. You have 5:00 minutes." There's a small hiss, and the door swings open just enough for someone to get a good grab on it. The clock begins counting down.

"Five fucking minutes," Vixen hisses to herself as she kicks the woman again, then snags her bag and darts in. Preparation is everything and for her, she came ready. If not for everything, for these moments. She searches through the place, looking for the right spot to set up the relay here. Somewhere very discreet, just as before. Then it's just a matter of getting it hooked into the network and secure.

The room is a large series of semi-independent computer cores that appear to be hard-wired together in a very professional fashion. The room is cold and bathed in a light blue light from a large grid of low-power LED banks on the ceiling. The walls and floor are crisply clean, almost a good bet that you could put your lunch on it and eat with no trouble. There is a low hum, but otherwise there is absolutely no motion. The smell of ozone fills the air. These processors and storage banks are very obviously completely independent of the security system, as everyone had promised. Unfortunately, it takes Vixen a good two full minutes of burnt time just to find good locations.

Vixen works furiously, only the need to try and do this properly keeping her from doing it half ass. She splices the thing in, fumble fingers slowing her just a bit, but she takes a breath and focuses in on getting it done right. The work finished on the hardware end. "Five minutes," she growls to herself as she gets up and starts on the computer. Glancing towards the door a moment before she focuses on the work again. A the very least, big ugly won't wake up before she's gone.. or she gets locked in. Or whatever. She scowls and skirts the thin line between fast and good. A light sweat is on her brow by the time its done and she breathes out. "Fucking mist," she says, turning to snap up her bag and start back towards the door.

It's all quite elegant work, all things considered. But even as Vixen begins to finish up, a voice alarm has already begun to count down from twenty seconds. Sure, unless she trips, she'll make it out in time. Unfortunately, it's the series of laser trips that had been running around the systems that she's been working on. During the course of her work, a number of them were inadvertently crossed. It's hard to avoid lasers if you don't notice the emitters - which she did not. Just as her bag closes, a loud siren sounds, and the pleasant voice count of time remaining inside becomes a loud, building-wide: "INTRUDER IN THE MEDICAL CORE, INTRUDER IN THE MEDICAL CORE, INTRUDER IN THE MEDICAL CORE..." Bright lights are flashing on all over the place and presumably all through the compound.

"Motherfucker," Vixen swears. She slides out of the room and tosses her bag in the cart. Gets that light jacket on, then tries to recall the map. The nearest security stations as might have been indicated. She needs to get some distance before things hit the fan too hard here. Blend.. if she can blend in she can get out. Maybe. She wheels the cart away, ears peeled, filtration trying to mellow the noise so she can have some warning when it comes to tromping feet. And she keeps her eyes out for refuges from patrols.

A mousy nurse, even one near the most important part of the structure, is one that is easily ignored. Security goes rushing past her, toward the MedCore. Due to the maze-like layout of corridors, even the hastily-erected security checkpoints are avoided. Even the fat, matronly head nurse goes by in a hurry. Eventually, Vixen will come to where a hallway exits into the reception area. The desk is being locked down electronically and skillfully by the three who'd been there before. Also, Björk is there, looking none too happy, and quite businesslike. The innuendo, some far less subtle than others - if any of them could be called "subtle" - is gone. He looks pissed, and he looks like he's looking to keep an intruder from getting by him.

When she gets close to the exit, she will wait for a lull to dip down and slip a smoke grenade from within the bag of tricks. Slid down towards the bottom of the bag, it takes a moment to find. And when she nears, getting a glimpse of the ones out in the entryway, she puts her plan into action. She'll roll the grenade into the room ahead of herself, before she's visible from the hall she's moving through. Then she'll slip her bag from the cart, shove the cart in going one way. Noisy wheels. And she'll dart the other way, bag slung over her shoulder as she makes a break for the outside.

"Sonofabitch!" Björk exclaims, managing to slam all of the syllables together as one word. Still, as a professional, he doesn't flail around like a frightened schoolgirl. Fortunately, Vixen's ruse with the cart is enough to send him in that direction. Almost as if he had no problem seeing through the smoke. It will be quickly and very apparently obvious that the final exit, the one that actually leads outside, is going to be a major problem. It's easy to get into trouble, but it's really difficult to get out of it. Björn, the massive four-armed woman, has all four arms full. Two vibro-swords and two high-power energy pistols. She is managing to hold back the building's entire population, because everyone wants to get out right now, not just the intruder. Likely, the "Boss" whoever he is, is using her as a last, best line of defense. She looks like she's ready to die in the line of duty, judging by the look on her face.

Vixen presses into the crowd, her bag held low to keep it from being seen easily amongst the crush. And she stays in the thick of them, biding her time. This close to success, she's not going to rush things. As long as there are people around her and that nurses uniform to help her blend, all should be well. She wiggles her way towards the front, whilst scoping out the possibilities of getting through.. maybe if she can shove someone at the big roadblock.. ooc Roll a dodge, with any bonuses, please

There's already quite enough shoving going on, in every direction, that one more shove wouldn't make much of a difference. Vixen's bag takes a heavy blow, but isn't actually knocked out of her grip. It isn't easy to make it near the front of the crowd, but it's done. Perhaps two rows of humanity before her, lined up like armies of Napoleonic times. But mulling around and pissed-off. Björn is threatening the crowd with severe bodily harm, and probably means it. One ominous phrase shouted out is, "I never forget a face, you motherfuckers, I know someone's still here, and when I find you, it's not going to be pretty!" She uses the pommel of one of her swords to bap a fleeing cyber-doc on the head so hard that he actually ends up on the ground.

Vixen is going to do something bold. She still has the mask on, so that helps some. And the nurses' uniform, no wig. So she's not the same at a glance as she was before. She will pick out two people at the front and bide her time. When the doc gets knocked down, she shoves the first person to the opposite side of the doc. Or tries to with a heavy thump into their back. Then she plants a hand against the other's back tries to knock them to the side the dock was on before. She'll go immediately after this person and try to slip past while the four armed woman is dealing with the first two. Assuming she can knock them, though she'd target people who aren't too big or who might already be off balance.

The Enhancement Center's invader probably had a good idea, that might have actually worked, had it had the opportunity to play itself out. Unfortunately, Björn suddenly spots Lehaya, despite the clothing, uniform, and mask. In fact, it's probably the very presence of the uniform and mask that gives Vixen away. The woman, the one who had been so pleasant earlier in the day, is not amused. Her eyes narrows, and without saying anything further, she just wades quickly toward the near-captive. The other beings are swatted aside like.. well, not even like flies. As if a bus were rolling through a herd of bunnies. Or a flock of bunnies. Whatever they're called, Björn will be on top of Vixen in a split-second, and well-armed. In more ways than one.

"Shit," Vixen will curse as the woman comes at her. Plan B. One shove, whoever is nearest. Get her to plant her feet. Then Vixen will dart forward after and try to 'slide' under, between the huge woman's legs. Easier to swing to the sides than inward, she reasons. And if she does get through, she'll flat out sprint after.

Another interesting idea. Somewhat more frantic, but one that does get to play itself out - and ends in total failure. Björn slams her legs together just enough to bring Vixen's feet into contact with them like a wall of steel as she attempts to flee. Damn, that woman's heavy. One of the four arms reaches down to grab the intruder's throat, but misses as that throat manages to squeak out of the way. The fact remains, though, that Vixen is now essentially sitting on her ass at the feet of an extremely large, extremely angry, and likely extremely competent security guard.

Vixen shrieks out, "She's gone crazy, everyone run!" Putting some fear and panic into her voice to give it more oomph. And while she's doing that, she starts to skitter back in a crab walk. Hoping people will freak and scatter. Cover to avoid getting snagged, whilst she seeks out a potential means of egress. Plan C, go!

Oh, the fear and panic in her voice certainly works as a shriek. People definitely freak and scatter. But they do what animals do when confronted with such a situation - they run from the source of the problem. Right now, that means that Björn puts all of her eggs in one basket, so to speak, concentrating all of her attention on Vixen. This makes it very easy for the rest of the gathered crowd to spill around the sides and into open air, where most everyone then takes off running. Tall, multi-limbed, armed, pissed-off woman standing over short, essentially unarmed woman doing the backwards crab-walk. That would almost make an amusing cartoon for the newspaper, if someone could come up with a clever caption.

"Damn.." A low curse as Vixen shuffles her feet back under her. Do or die. She sets almost like a sprint runner, then darts forward again. Shifting her weight side to side in the brief moments before she gets close to the big woman, to keep her guessing just where the young woman will go. Vixen doesn't even know, letting her instinct guide her on the moment of truth. Jinking towards whatever side feels most promising. Knowing that she'll be grabbed at, already primed to dodge out of the way.

While everything in the Universe is screaming "no" that this would also inevitably end in failure, Björn somehow manages to be distracted by something just long enough for Vixen to slip past. The intruder isn't out of danger yet, but at least she is outside. Not that there's really anything to hide behind. Running shoes would be very appropriate at this time, and one can only hope that Lehaya was wearing some.

Vixen came prepared to run. Running is something she's good at. Quick on her feet, good reflexes. She rolls amongst the fleeing people and slips a flashbang out of her bag as she immediately cuts for the 'Dregs. She knows the big woman will be after her. Probably close. So she primes the grenade, waits for half of it's timer, then drops it behind herself. If she's close, the big woman will get a face full of it. If she's not.. then Vix is good. The moment she can get something between her and any fire, she'll do it, but her goal is to cut into the Dregs and get her trail lost there before she gets changed into her street clothes and goes home to hide out.

For reasons that only God and Björn herself will ever know, the massive woman doesn't move from her position. Just watches Vixen run for the 'Dregs. Well, almost. A old model handgun flips out of a previously hidden compartment on one of her arms, and she aims it downrange. She hesitates rather dramatically, then despite the jinking, despite the others in the way, she fire off two shots, which will be her final line in this odd piece of thesbianism.

Vixen takes a hit in the shoulder by the first slug, the force of it shoving her forward. The tuck and roll is what saves her from the second. She comes up and half makes her turn into a space between two buildings, slamming into the wall. But it keeps her upright and she shoves herself to race down the alley and rushes for the 'Dregs, a soft litany of curses part of the fuel that keeps her running, despite the hard hits she's taken.

It's surprising how time flies when you're working for shady characters, breaking into a well-respected and well-defended establishment. In the end, it also hurts, too. But it is the end, and the job is done. The weather is still blisteringly horrific in its lack of heat. It truly is now a dark and stormy night.

Vixen braves the cold as she finds her way to a secure place. Quiet, abandoned and sheltering. She can change there. She slips the nurses uniform off and quickly dons her warmer street clothes. And she rips part of it off to wrap her shoulder before she gets her coat on. With a nice, deep hood. Bag on her back, she trudges through the 'Dregs carefully, letting her sense of the streets and hearing guide her past trouble. A lonely and cold slog it is, the young woman on edge. Though she keeps her holdout pistol in hand, hidden in her sleeve just in case. Fortunately, she doesn't need it. She makes it out and on the main street she finally relaxes somewhat. She has her RMK at home. That will help, though she might need more to get back to top form. For another day.