The four men before him were sat in the four closest seats on the same side of the of the long conference table. The CEO of New Dawn let out an unpleasant sigh as he levelled his gaze at each in turn. His temper slowly grew and he found his rage intensifing as he looked at these incompetent men who sat dumbly staring, awaiting his wrath.
Surging to his feet with unnatural speed he stepped around his desk and smashed his fist with a force that belied his elven frame into the face of the closest of them. The rest mutely stared on as he stood over the Ork he had lashed out at, his fist wet with blood from the ruined nose.
Seemingly satisfied that he had rendered the man unconscious he looked up at the next closest man who was also an Elf like the CEO. In a disquieting voice he said “You tell me that you are part of the cause, that you are with the New Dawn, yet you allow breaches of this magnitude to go on.”
The elf stepped over the prone form of the Ork and walked to the next man, a dwarf. Standing behind the seated man he rested his hands reassuringly on his shoulders. Looking upward toward the high ceiling he let out a long breath through his nostrils while he massaged the dwarf's muscular neck with more force than was pleasant.
“You know how sensitive our work is.” He continued while his thumbs worked and dug into the flesh of the man's neck “You know that there must be utmost control on the information we allow out. Yet here you are before me telling me that we have lost something that could alert the world to our work.”
Slamming a firm pat onto the dwarves shoulder he walked to the next man, a human.
“I believe that you are directly responsible for the third circle member who has allowed this breach of security. Is this so?”
Nodding quickly he answered “Yes sir, and I will ensure he is…” but he was cut off with a shushing sound from his boss.
“What do we know about the situation?” the CEO said as he moved back to his chair at the head of the table “Is this simply misplaced or is it a theft?” These questions were now being directly addressed to the only human in the room, the others relaxed a little, the ork remained unconscious.
“Sir, we don’t know at this time. We believe it is theft”.
“Again sir, at this time, we cannot answer that question.”
The dwarf spoke out now “We can assume that it has been some kind of inside job. No one on the outside knows of our activities. There is someone within the circles who is less concerned with the overall goal.”
The elf at the head of the table nodded slowly before posing the rhetorical question: “less concerned, or less aware of the importance of our work?”
Turning his attention back to the human the he continued. “Find me the culprit, and find me the missing equipment, or you will find yourself on the thin end of my patience.”
With that he stood and walked out of the room, leaving his council to sit in silence.
Except for the security guard on the front desk, Dr. Brightling was the last man in the building. He always worked deep into the evening and tonight was no exception. He finished his writing and carefully placed his old fashioned paper notebook and fountain pen into his briefcase.
He slipped off his lab coat and exchanged it with his heavy fog coat on the coat hook. Dressed to face the bitter cold outside he headed to the elevator. Te light in his office dimmed automatically when it detected the doctor's RFID tag had left the room.
“Goodnight Dr. Brightling”, Guss, the security guard offered in his usual monotone voice. Dr. Brightling, as always, just nodded.
Outside, he strolled across the near empty car park to his car. In the morning he would be a rich man and he allowed himself a smile. As he drew closer to his car it detected his RFID signature and the engine automatically sparked into life.
His phone rang. He brought up the ID of the caller into the corner of his iris and seeing who was calling, allowed the image to overlay across his vision. The caller's semi translucent image gave the impression that he was stood directly in front of the doctor despite his continued walk across the car park.
Taking his cue, the Heavy pushed away from the wall that he had been leaning against and strode purposefully across the car park. Taking one last drag, he flicked his cigarette to the ground while reaching with his other hand into his half unzipped leather biker jacket. Closing the distance he brought the old style Roomsweeper out and up to aim at the back of Dr. Brightling’s head, two more paces and the double barrel of the short shotgun was practically touching the back of the Doctors head. Without pausing the assassin pulled the trigger.
Distracted by the conversation on his vidphone, Dr. Brightling had no chance. He didn’t notice the approach from behind of his killer. He died instantly without even registering the distinctive blast of a flichette cartridge being discharged.