The Many Regrets of a Cyborg Werewolf

Special Delivery - XXXIV

The squeal of engine brakes was heard around the corner even before the truck itself lurched itself into view. The box truck ungainly turned itself towards the main gate, stopping just short of the boom barrier before the first checkpoint as one of the security guards on duty held up a hand. He kept his left hand in the air while the other rested above his holster, cautiously approaching the unannounced vehicle. It was dark and the overhead light cast a harsh shadow into the vehicle's cabin, obscuring the occupants. This didn't concern the guard terribly, as he knew there were multiple eyes on the vehicle, even beyond what was visible from the driveway, but it still raised some flags enough for him to keep his hand where it was. The truck wasn't one of theirs, though it was from one of the companies they used, but there were no more scheduled deliveries for that evening. That was one incongruity too many, but the guard kept his cool as he approached the driver's side window. Though he couldn't clearly see the driver, he motioned with his free hand to roll it down, and a young woman with blonde hair poked her head out into the cold.

"Can I help you?" The guard asked.

"Um, yeah," the woman said awkwardly, visibly pondering her words, "I have a delivery here for... 'Ancestral Biotics?'"

"Then you're in the wrong place," he replied sternly.

"Really?" She cocked an eyebrow before glancing back inside, "oh, sorry, Celestial Biotics!"

"What's your cargo?" He asked.

"Ummm, gimme a sec-" she said, hastily flipping through a clipboard containing the manifest. "Three industrial grade specialized refrigerators. For, like, samples and stuff."

"There's no more deliveries today," the guard said.

"Well, that's just it..." the young woman chuckled nervously as she moved the loose strands of blonde hair from her face, "I was kind of supposed to be here three days ago, but there was some... miscommunication."

"Like I said," the guard repeated, "no more deliveries today. Be on your way."

"Please, mister," the woman dropped her tone, "this is my first week and I have my supervisor watching my every move." The guard peered past her to see a bearded man with glasses sitting in the passenger seat with his own clipboard. His expression was bemused as the woman continued pleading with the guard. "If I don't get this delivery sorted I'm going to lose my job! I need to fix this screw up." The guard was unconvinced, but the woman's face was of desperate anguish. "Can you at least ask your boss or whoever if I can leave them outside? Like I said, they were supposed to be here three days ago. All I'm asking is for you to check."

"Alright," the guard sighed as he held up his hand, "one moment." He pressed his finger against the earmuffs that contained the earpiece for his radio as he stepped away. A moment later the voice of his superior filled his ear.

"Squad One Unit One, sitrep," the voice demanded.

"Unscheduled delivery," the guard reported, "claims to be three days late. Cargo is supposedly sample fridges for the lab."

"Standby one," the voice said. A few seconds of silence passed before the voice returned, "schedule for the second of October does show a missed delivery, but no indicator of intended cargo. I'll have to check with requisitions tomorrow."

"What about the truck that's here?" The guard asked, "they're waiting at the gate."

"Excuse me," the blonde behind the wheel poked her head out of the window once more, "it's almost eight thirty, and I have to have this truck back by nine. Can you please just let me in? I'll be out of here right away, I promise!"