Black signed regardless, maintaining cold efficiency despite the danger, and handed the finalized copies to Annasun for safekeeping. Despite warnings from two different people about the risks of this project, the man, fearing bringing in an expert, had accepted the weight of these consequences solely upon himself. Black, not often rewarding bad decisions, found himself in a dilemma. He now owned the company under fire, part of which genuinely interested him.
Until Broca's download was completed, the man's further questions were now met with silence from the executive.
"Are you wearing your armorweave?" Black folded up his briefcase, checking his own armorweave and high-grade tech. The outside comms lines were likely cut, but it didn't hurt to look for a signal.
Annasun, didn't dignify the question with an answer. She never left home without her slim armorweave, a stark contrast to Broca, who paraded around like an obviously armored tank under his suit. The lockdowns would be the first obstacle to overcome. Black placed his hands together over the table, his tone serious.
"What I suggest, sir, is you exit my building as fast as possible, and if you survive the weekend, we'll discuss it." The briefcase snapped closed. He looked at Annasun, signaling it was her time to shine, and the Hapan addressed the former owner's partner, ignoring the marked man.
"Send your non-critical staff home. Double your security details, assign them to critical areas only, leave the corridors clear, and track any strange movement. You'll better know where any threat is, and they'll have no easy pickings." The Hapan then instructed the Apex guards over their communicators, half of whom were likely beginning to cut through the door from the other side. All twelve would stay close to their employer.
Broca walked over to the room's locked door and interfaced his cybernetics with the panel, attempting to
out-slice the slicer. His downloaded schematics gave him some potential to make it difficult for any opponent, at least in something as simple as door controls.
"We need a guide to your droid bay." All part of the contract; everything in there was his, seemingly harmless unless you could follow the dots. Standing by the door, Black looked at Broca impatiently, cutting sounds burning behind the metal as his personnel began to come through on their own, waiting for man or metal to succeed.
The trio's destination was a seemingly harmless visit to a droid bay, with a dozen corporate security plus a guide in escort.
"Jackal"
