It would have been for the best if he was already inside the house by the time the old man arrived, but reports from social media estimated there wasn’t enough time between Boda's departure from the theatre and his arrival at home. So Ryker slummed it in a parked car about half a mile from the house itself. A hover drone kept an eye on the street from the air. The thing about drones that made Ryker prefer the little nuisances was that they were invisible to infrared and too small to be captured by traditional optical eyesights. Electromagnetic radiation might reveal a blip on only the most advanced of military-grade scanners. No civilian was going to own such a piece of technology. Ryker wasn’t worried that he would be detected.
The old man lived alone and was something of a paranoid bastard. After reading the man’s history, he had good reason to sleep with a knife under his pillow, though such wouldn't save him tonight. Other than the security system, which according to his billing records was a standard run-of-the-mill retail service, a gun in the nightstand, and possibly a random booby-trap/homemade trip-wire bullshit, the ordeal should be over and done with shortly after lights out.
What Ryker did not expect was the arrival of an extra body. The drone’s visuals, admittedly not the highest-graded technology that the agency provided, had trouble scanning the individual. At first Ryker thought it was some sort of error, but closer inspection revealed extremely specific discrepancies that indicated a complication that wrung a frown to his lips.
Shortly thereafter, Ryker gathered the gear he brought for the occasion, including a rifle case, and headed toward the house. His own attire was fairly standard issue by the agency for such jobs, but he wasn’t out to topple governments here, only avoid the most obvious of implications. By the time the lights could be seen glowing through the trees, his previous plan for approach adapted to the turn of events.
On foot, he ducked low, careful to avoid disturbing the brush running the back of the property. Not until the right time, and this wasn’t it. Not yet; he'd need to set up first.
The old man lived alone and was something of a paranoid bastard. After reading the man’s history, he had good reason to sleep with a knife under his pillow, though such wouldn't save him tonight. Other than the security system, which according to his billing records was a standard run-of-the-mill retail service, a gun in the nightstand, and possibly a random booby-trap/homemade trip-wire bullshit, the ordeal should be over and done with shortly after lights out.
What Ryker did not expect was the arrival of an extra body. The drone’s visuals, admittedly not the highest-graded technology that the agency provided, had trouble scanning the individual. At first Ryker thought it was some sort of error, but closer inspection revealed extremely specific discrepancies that indicated a complication that wrung a frown to his lips.
Shortly thereafter, Ryker gathered the gear he brought for the occasion, including a rifle case, and headed toward the house. His own attire was fairly standard issue by the agency for such jobs, but he wasn’t out to topple governments here, only avoid the most obvious of implications. By the time the lights could be seen glowing through the trees, his previous plan for approach adapted to the turn of events.
On foot, he ducked low, careful to avoid disturbing the brush running the back of the property. Not until the right time, and this wasn’t it. Not yet; he'd need to set up first.