[Bad] 011 - Diligence
Jun. 10th, 2008 03:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elementof_riskdiligence - n- constant and earnest effort to accomplish what is undertaken
He was careful, meticulous even, a small frown knitting his brows, teeth worrying at his lower lip unconsciously. One small bead of sweat formed on his brow, slowly trickling down his temple, but he couldn't be bothered to wipe it away. The wires had been cut, a knife slicing through them with brutal efficiency that made him want to snarl at the damage it had done to the perfect beauty he had left in place. They'd slipped around the dummy wires, going right to the heart of the thing, slipping back from the mercury in the center and rendering the device on the wall harmless.
Shifting his weight, Sark felt his foot slip, pulling his pliers back from the wires quickly as he placed one gloved hand against the wall to steady himself. When he glanced down, he saw the red puddle had spread out from the rapidly cooling body lying broken on the floor. As frigid as it was in here, he'd hoped it would congeal, but, instead, he was going to have to toss the shoes away as unsalvageable. He gave the body another dirty look before adjusting his stance and returning his attention to the device.
With painstaking slowness he managed to reattach the wires, listening carefully to the comm device he'd liberated from the dead agent, waiting for the man's colleagues to realize he'd not checked in. Sark had two minutes at most before they sent someone, and the damage was almost irreparable. But his client had tasked him with this, and it would be unprofessional to let her down. Carefully he disconnected the damaged wires, shifting the connections of others, pulling all the knowledge he had of the device into play. A second device hadn't been feasible for testing, yet, and the trial run was as much demonstration as decimation. It had to be this, not just random C4.
When the light came back on, he grinned a rare grin, stepping back, almost slipping in the blood again, but hardly even noticing. The mercury started to rise, and he packed up quickly, smirking at the agent.
"Nice try," he murmured to the body, before hurrying from the building and to the car he had waiting in the alley.
Two blocks away, he felt the force of the explosion and glanced in his rearview mirror. Where the twelve floor Moskva Hotel, which had housed the Armenian embassy on the eighth floor, had once stood there was nothing but ash in the air. No debris, no shattered concrete or glass. Just empty space and ash. The buildings on either side were unharmed and he breathed a slight sigh of relief that even with his hack-reconstruction job, the parameters of the device had not been compromised. His client would be very pleased, and he took a moment to smile to himself, flipping the radio on as he wove his way through traffic back to his hotel to wait for the wire transfer of the final part of his funds for the job to be complete.
He was careful, meticulous even, a small frown knitting his brows, teeth worrying at his lower lip unconsciously. One small bead of sweat formed on his brow, slowly trickling down his temple, but he couldn't be bothered to wipe it away. The wires had been cut, a knife slicing through them with brutal efficiency that made him want to snarl at the damage it had done to the perfect beauty he had left in place. They'd slipped around the dummy wires, going right to the heart of the thing, slipping back from the mercury in the center and rendering the device on the wall harmless.
Shifting his weight, Sark felt his foot slip, pulling his pliers back from the wires quickly as he placed one gloved hand against the wall to steady himself. When he glanced down, he saw the red puddle had spread out from the rapidly cooling body lying broken on the floor. As frigid as it was in here, he'd hoped it would congeal, but, instead, he was going to have to toss the shoes away as unsalvageable. He gave the body another dirty look before adjusting his stance and returning his attention to the device.
With painstaking slowness he managed to reattach the wires, listening carefully to the comm device he'd liberated from the dead agent, waiting for the man's colleagues to realize he'd not checked in. Sark had two minutes at most before they sent someone, and the damage was almost irreparable. But his client had tasked him with this, and it would be unprofessional to let her down. Carefully he disconnected the damaged wires, shifting the connections of others, pulling all the knowledge he had of the device into play. A second device hadn't been feasible for testing, yet, and the trial run was as much demonstration as decimation. It had to be this, not just random C4.
When the light came back on, he grinned a rare grin, stepping back, almost slipping in the blood again, but hardly even noticing. The mercury started to rise, and he packed up quickly, smirking at the agent.
"Nice try," he murmured to the body, before hurrying from the building and to the car he had waiting in the alley.
Two blocks away, he felt the force of the explosion and glanced in his rearview mirror. Where the twelve floor Moskva Hotel, which had housed the Armenian embassy on the eighth floor, had once stood there was nothing but ash in the air. No debris, no shattered concrete or glass. Just empty space and ash. The buildings on either side were unharmed and he breathed a slight sigh of relief that even with his hack-reconstruction job, the parameters of the device had not been compromised. His client would be very pleased, and he took a moment to smile to himself, flipping the radio on as he wove his way through traffic back to his hotel to wait for the wire transfer of the final part of his funds for the job to be complete.
