The Many Regrets of a Cyborg Werewolf

The Stray - XXXIII

It was snowing yet again, despite the forecast calling for clear skies. The sky was a bright white of solid clouds, the snowflakes small and sparse, but nonetheless the two conspired together to bathe everything in a pale haze. September wasn't even over, yet it seemed to snow almost daily, and Luke was growing tired of it. It had been a week since they returned from Alaska, and the snow was a sore reminder of that trip, and his failure. These thoughts had plenty of time to stew as he stood under the cover of the bus stop, staring down the street. His target was three blocks down, but the angle of the buildings gave him a clear line of sight. It was a fairly innocuous site on the West end of the city. It had a loading dock that sloped down from the street, and the building itself was only about four stories tall. Smaller than most of Celestial's facilities, and it wasn't officially owned by them, but it was receiving regular deliveries from the same trucks they had encountered earlier in the month, shuttled between multiple locations to disguise their movements. If it wasn't where the golems were being produced, it was at least where the materials were being stored. Luke had managed to investigate one such vehicle that approached at night, but when he snuck inside the trailer he found it was only filled with more typical pharmaceutical supplies. Yet it still smelled of the vampire remains they'd encountered before. Faintly, distantly, but it was there.

Luke wanted to go inside. He also wanted a cigarette, but smoking often obscured his sense of smell, so he suffered without it. His eyes were locked onto the building, his ears were at rapt attention, and he considered his options for entry. The most obvious was the front gate. It needed authorization from a security booth, but Luke could jump it even in human form. The building itself had a loading door that required a pin pad code, but by watching the workers he'd already figured it out. They tried to obscure it with their bodies, but Luke could tell just by their posture and movement of the arms from behind what the code was: six four eight eight two. This option would be risky, as the glimpses he caught from the gap between the door and truck showed a very open, very lit interior. No doubt heavily secured inside, given the seemingly innocuous truck drivers wore bullet proof vests. The only other avenue of discreet entry was an external stairwell on the North side. In lieu of a pin pad, however, it used a keycard slider. Not unlike the undersea lab, which made Luke wonder how hard it'd be to crack. That was, of course, if this was their target.

Another truck pulled up to the building. This one was smaller, and not one of Celestial's owned vehicles, or the unmarked dummy trucks. It was emblazoned with a delivery service's branding, and Luke quickly took out his pen and notepad. He quickly scribbled onto the pad without taking his eyes off the truck, drawing it to exact detail despite not even glancing at the paper. He had already filled a few pages with realistic drawings of various vehicles and personnel from his stakeout. Luke wasn't very good at using a camera, and even if he was they were too conspicuous with their oversized lenses, while the newer disposable plastic ones were useless at this range. His drawings, however, were nearly as good if not better. He could sketch consistent details from multiple angles as the vehicles turned in seconds. The only downside was the cold and speed of his movements often made his pen dry out, forcing him to be more methodical. Yet despite this Luke had often lamented his lack of creativity. He couldn't replicate something that was unique to his mind or express an emotion in a drawing. If it wasn't something he saw with his own eyes, he wouldn't be able to depict it. He sometimes likened that to humans themselves and their inability to believe in things they couldn't see, yet they still managed to create where he could not.

Luke put the pen and pad in his pocket. This was probably the most likely site he saw all week. Lots of movement and personnel for an unmarked, off-the-books facility. It could lead to the place where the golems were stored at least. He wondered if Mercury was there, or even Angela herself. He wondered how guarded it was inside. So many variables that could completely change the situation, but it was their best shot at the moment. Either way, it would mean a fight, though Luke could think of worse ways to spend an afternoon. The bigger question was how well Erin's plan would work. It sounded, at best, maverick. There were several ways it could go wrong, but compared to Alex's drip-fed intel, it could be the perfect way in. That would have to wait, at least, until her 'supplier' got back to her. Until then all Luke could do was wait, observe, and take notes. He fidgeted in his pocket, his hand brushing against the Assembler, before retrieving one of his other small notepads. He'd filled this one already, refreshing his memory on the details. Eventually Luke was forced to admit that nothing new or exciting was going to happen any time soon, not with Celestial's strict and regimented operations, and he was growing bored. A sudden gust of wind hit him. The cold wasn't a problem, but it did seem like mother nature was giving him a subtle sign. Luke stowed his notepad and put his hands in his pockets, before finally turning to leave after one last glance.