I could tell by the frantic nature of Ferguson’s henchmen that their boss was frightened. He knew I was coming for him and I wasn’t going to greet him with flowers, let’s just say that. As bold as my entrance had been, as I moved through the base, I managed to calm myself. Of course, I was livid that he’d even had the audacity to steal from me in the first place, yet I knew I needed to be smart for the item’s recovery.
Now that he had the rather obvious alert to my arrival, I needed to be a little discreet on the approach. These corridors were incredibly bright, almost clinical in fact. I needed to sort that out, amongst other things – such as the prying eyes above.
With a silenced pistol, I took out the security camera in the corner. The control room that was on this floor would allow me access to Ferguson’s quarters. Unless he wanted to avoid me by jumping off the roof, there was no way he’d risk coming back down. I’d admit, it was rather fun to play this game of cat and mouse with him.
I took out another camera and overheard the idiots next door questioning as to why this had happened. Really – how stupid could they be? I’d used a truck as a battering ram downstairs, it was obviously me.
I’d know about Ferguson’s lair for quite some time; as much as he loved to play the villain, he was certainly a pussycat when he was really up against it. Getting into that control room would be the key to recovering what was mine and getting out of here.
I crept in quietly; the two men were far too agitated by the dropped security footage to be troubled by who else was also in the room.
‘Ahem,’ I coughed.
They turned around, stunned – allowing me to knock one of them out cold with a closed fist and roundhouse kick the other in the jaw, greeting the floor with an almighty thud. I should have introduced myself properly, really.