Hitman: Resurgence

And Ye Shall Know The Truth And The Truth Shall Make You Free.

OLIVIA HALL WAS SWEATING. The formal suit and the green shoulder hanging bag she was wearing didn't help her cope with the midday sun. She was holding an access card in her right hand, and as she walked in the parking area of her destination, she looked at the card. Hall, Olivia. And her photograph. Definitely not official, but good enough to deceive the electronic devices that would require it. An electronic key hacker, disguised as a true badge and access card. Still, it wasn't comforting enough as she looked ahead, to the building towering over the horizon.

The CIA headquarters. Langley.

A series of sleek, modern buildings, constructed with a harmonious blend of glass and concrete, made up a location that emanated authority, secrecy and security. The many security cameras strategically positioned also gave that feeling away.

The idea she had was simple. If the CIA had 47, there would be something there to see. Now that she looked at the building, all the preparation she had gone through seemed nonsensical.

The front doors, protected by a concrete t-shaped canopy, were also protected by armed guards. She swallowed hard. No need to worry, though. They are just guards. "They couldn't possibly know everyone that worked here, could they?"

This disguise thing wasn't for her. 47 would be of a great help in a moment such as this. Though he couldn't.

She entered the building. The atrium had many dark grey and white columns, and the floor had a chess-like pattern in which the white tiles were squares and the black were rectangular. A series of turnstiles were disposed ahead of her, in the back of the room, guarding stairs. She stopped and looked down, holding the card in the height of her chest. The imposing CIA seal was printed below her, in black and white.

She started walking slowly in the direction of the turnstiles. Had she made everything correctly? Would the card work with the administrator clearance? CIA could know she was there. They could be expecting all that.

She positioned her card above an indicated position in the turnstile. She waited. It was taking too long.

Everything was so quiet. It was a trap.

Suddenly, the turnstile made a loud beep. Scared, she pulled her hand and let out a little scream. Access granted.

An officer dressing the CIA security uniform approached her.

_Is everything fine, miss?

She looked at him and faked a smile. Adjusting the tight suit, she continued.

_Everything is fine.

She started walking, wishing to walk as normally as she could.

When she went up the stairs and turned, she took cover in a column to take back her breath and recompose herself.

She was inside now. Where to look?

The IT department is beyond her reach. Dozens of analysts with their own stations, and, by her experience, the only ones in the building who would recognize an outsider.

"Think, Olivia, think."

She needed somewhere private where she could access the most important CIA operations. The server rooms.

As she headed for her destination, going up a set of stairs to access leave the entrance hall, Olivia saw a framed picture hanging in the wall right in front of her, of a man posing seriously with his arms crossed. She looked down, to a golden plaque, where the man's name was engraved in low relief.