08-27-2016, 10:45 AM
Jaxen showed up the day after striking the deal with Manix. He spent about an hour in Kallisti after Manix left, flirting with Oriena and finishing the gold label vodka. But Manix's credit card was burning a hole in his pocket. He had other cards, provided by his mother, but it was a bad idea to purchase the requisite thieving gear with them. A purchase list like that would draw attention.
That evening, he returned to his high rise condo in the business district of Moscow, and keyed away at the work station, researching the mansion again and poking around their servers. They had upgraded their security a lot since the last time, when he met another avatar doing the same thing. He hadn't heard about her since then, and he quietly wondered if the Atharim put a bullet in her and tossed the body into the sewers.
Getting into the Atharim HQ could take two main strategies. First, break in during the night like you would anywhere. Bad idea with the Atharim though. They weren't the typical armory or museum. They had wackos up all night and scary ass weapons guarding the perimeter. As much as Jaxen enjoyed the challenge, he wasn't in the mood to get shot in the face. Sora was unlikely to save him twice in a row. And even if she did, Jaxen didn't fancy a trip to a snake-filled alternate dimension again. He's almost rather just go ahead and die.
That left the second option. Waltz in the front door like he owned the place.
To do that, he needed to avoid facial recognition software. There were plenty of prosthetics, second skin, and masks one could use-but infrared cameras could pick up synthetic skin due to a lack of blood circulation at the surface.
No. His disguise had to be genuine. He had to actually become someone else.
Manix was the key to that. Jaxen practiced the illusion until the break of dawn. Finally, he crashed somewhere around 7 am, only to wake jazzed and ready to go two hours later. A few stimulant pills helped too.
He dressed in casual designer jeans, slip on leather loafers and a soft t shirt and leather jacket to go to Manix's. The large brownstone looked like a tiny fortress over the street. Jaxen shrugged and knocked on the front door.
Some type of military man answered.
"Uh I'm here to see Manix."
He showed the marine the card Manix gave him the day before and he was ushered in the house.
It was surprisingly nice inside. Apparently Manix had good taste. Out of habit, his eyes searched for vulnerable points of entry on their way to the basement.
The marine left him in front of a door, and Jaxen knocked.
"Manix? It's Jaxen."
He hooked his thumbs in his pocket and waited, wondering how far below ground the complex plunged.
That evening, he returned to his high rise condo in the business district of Moscow, and keyed away at the work station, researching the mansion again and poking around their servers. They had upgraded their security a lot since the last time, when he met another avatar doing the same thing. He hadn't heard about her since then, and he quietly wondered if the Atharim put a bullet in her and tossed the body into the sewers.
Getting into the Atharim HQ could take two main strategies. First, break in during the night like you would anywhere. Bad idea with the Atharim though. They weren't the typical armory or museum. They had wackos up all night and scary ass weapons guarding the perimeter. As much as Jaxen enjoyed the challenge, he wasn't in the mood to get shot in the face. Sora was unlikely to save him twice in a row. And even if she did, Jaxen didn't fancy a trip to a snake-filled alternate dimension again. He's almost rather just go ahead and die.
That left the second option. Waltz in the front door like he owned the place.
To do that, he needed to avoid facial recognition software. There were plenty of prosthetics, second skin, and masks one could use-but infrared cameras could pick up synthetic skin due to a lack of blood circulation at the surface.
No. His disguise had to be genuine. He had to actually become someone else.
Manix was the key to that. Jaxen practiced the illusion until the break of dawn. Finally, he crashed somewhere around 7 am, only to wake jazzed and ready to go two hours later. A few stimulant pills helped too.
He dressed in casual designer jeans, slip on leather loafers and a soft t shirt and leather jacket to go to Manix's. The large brownstone looked like a tiny fortress over the street. Jaxen shrugged and knocked on the front door.
Some type of military man answered.
"Uh I'm here to see Manix."
He showed the marine the card Manix gave him the day before and he was ushered in the house.
It was surprisingly nice inside. Apparently Manix had good taste. Out of habit, his eyes searched for vulnerable points of entry on their way to the basement.
The marine left him in front of a door, and Jaxen knocked.
"Manix? It's Jaxen."
He hooked his thumbs in his pocket and waited, wondering how far below ground the complex plunged.