Infiltration

I can’t believe I’m doing this…

I was sitting outside the temporary base for the “Special protection branch”, a reasonably unassuming old brick building that sat stark and ugly, surrounded by a chain-link fence down at the docks. From the expensive looking uniforms and premium weapons they were carrying, I had the feeling this wasn’t exactly the ideal temporary headquarters for this group; but it certainly was functional and easy to secure.

The windows were narrow slats, the design so utilitarian it seemed reminiscent of Brutalism. The walls looked thick, and although there was no way of knowing for sure, I had the impression they could even tank a few rounds of artillery if they had to. In short, it was the kind of place that gave off an air “I can shrug off bullets all day.”

Maybe it speaks of their military ethos… even in this, it’s a stark contrast to the more “undercover” aesthetic of Mortiferis.

My van pulled up at the checkpoint, as I rolled down the window to the approaching guard. He glanced at the iPad he carried, then back at me.

“Air conditioning repair, I’m scheduled for three.”

Internally I cringed at how gruff my voice sounded, my eyes raking over my face in the side mirror. Gruff, middle aged, and undeniably male. Bill was a lifelong air conditioning repair man, with a marriage that had sunk to banality at home and a couple kids. It wasn’t the most exciting life, but there was little enmity either, even if the honeymoon phase of his life was so distant it almost seemed like a faded dream.

Even though I was getting better and better at playing other people’s roles, my skinwalker side only enhancing my skills, it still felt notably uncomfortable. Compared to the women I’d been wearing it was like putting on an itchy sweater after getting used to fine silk shirts.

“Pretty sure you got cancelled, buddy.”

The guard’s voice was stern as he came closer, one hand reflexively sitting on his sidearm. Even though he seemed controlled, there was a part of me that sensed his impatience to get to use it.

“Huh? No way. This gig’s been penciled in for months. Trust me, this place needs the work. No-way the previous owner didn’t tell you how it’s been crying out for repairs.”

“That will all be taken care of in time. No appointments today.”

I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, sighing.

“Look chief, no-one told me it was cancelled. I had to turn down a heap of other clients today to be here. I’m tryna run a small business here. Just check it again, all right?”

The guard stood for a moment, seeming to decide in his head, before he flicked open the iPad, scanning the day's itinerary. He seemed to pause for a moment as his lips pursed, before looking at me and back at the screen again.

“Huh.”

“Huh what?”

“The appointment is here.”

“Yeah, so? I told you in would be. Open the gate, I’m wastin’ time.”

The guard stood for another moment, seeming ever so slightly confused, before he acquiesced and let me inside. The barrier was raised as I thanked him, before driving into the compound.

Phew… Nice one, Candida.

I had to give it to her, my ill begotten mentor was nothing if not useful. The way she’d put it, learning new skills and fully absorbing yourself into new possibilities was what made such a long life worth it. You may be comparatively static compared to the humans who lived, grew old and died around you, but the world was always changing, and always offering some new novelty to loose yourself in.

Naturally, this meant one of her emerging interests had been technology. Her abilities at hacking and finding digital information were as potent as they were surprising. But then again, when you can steal years of a person's dedication in a single night, one stolen soul opening up a lifetime of memories, it shouldn’t have been.

It was Candida who’d known about the scheduled repairs that were set up to take place today in this building, and Candida who’d found the address of the man I wore like a cheap suit. It was her too who’d conveniently altered the schedule, placing the appointment that the Special protection branch had cancelled right back in its original spot. It was almost scarier witnessing her more subtle competencies, for how effective they were.

Being let inside the building by another guard, I wondered about other skinwalkers of Candida’s age. There must be more than a few out there. How many of them were like her, pushing the boundaries and always learning new things? I could just as easily picture many of them going the other direction, falling out of step with modernity as it changed fast and fickle. After all, even as times changed some things remained constant; there would always be beautiful bodies for them to steal and desecrate.

As I wandered through the halls, an A4 laminated map of the building in my hands guiding me to where the repairs were needed, I was looking for something entirely different; a skin to wear that wouldn’t have only a few hours free run of the building. Glancing through the little windows each door had as I passed them, it appeared the lowest floor was dedicated to rank and file combat troops. I could see some of them relaxing, playing cards, whilst others cleaned their weapons or polished their boots. The hallmarks of a military life was all over the men and women inside.

The second floor was different. It seemed to be dedicated for a smaller number of clerical staff, shuffling papers, typing on their computers. Their uniforms were comparatively different too, the men in suits with more of a civilian cut versus the combat uniforms found downstairs, while the women wore skirt-suits and heels.

The staircase leading upwards to the top floor was guarded, and I knew better than to try and say I needed in there to fix some air-con.

No doubt, that’s where the commander resides…

I needed to find some way up there. If I could get inside the commander, I’d have total free rein to do what I liked. Either way, getting up there got me closer to the action and gave me a more secure shot at being present for the negotiations with Mortiferis.

The only question was…