A Gray Hack: Escape by D A Schippers

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Instincts, which Cirk viewed as quick and powerful sub programming, surged him forward into the open area. A lightning bolt of pain shot up his side, manifesting itself as a sudden and powerful limp. The empty elevator beckoned to him like a siren's song. His combat boots clacked on the marble floor as he bolted into the elevator. Cirk pressed a button on the panel, and sighed in relief as he crumpled forward in pain. He caught a quick glimpse of the woman standing in his former escape car. With his sudden and presumed rude exit from their elevator, the woman was taken aback that he had not admired her form, and twisted to look at him, her high heels slipping in the blood puddle. After the woman caught herself, she was annoyed at his rather abrupt exit and ill-mannered nature in leaving something that nearly ruined her new shoes. Cirk had just enough time to shrug his shoulders at her apparent misfortune. He had bought himself at least a few more minutes of time to contemplate the delivery of the package.
Cirk attempted to shrug off the pain of the wounds, and focus on his mission; infiltration and acquisition of the Evocution project designs. Nothing else mattered; everything else was expendable in his mind. Teufel was behind the development curve. This forceful acquisition would fill the chasm.
Cirk's mind strayed, remembering when he met Kana, the leader of the sub group of hackers that aided Teufel named the Grays. Cirk also remembered meeting the obviously troubled but wise Brom, the leader of Teufel. In the barracks and hidden bases, he enjoyed the conversations with his peers. He distinctly felt as though they were the new George Washington's and Thomas Jefferson's fighting to free the people from the tyranny of power drunk rulers. They were the patriots of the new world. Cirk was tired of the rules and expectations that the oppressors laid down. Control of the masses for profit and supremacy were their goals. Teufel stood against all of that, no matter what the personal cost. Kana and their group would surely lead them to success. He smiled, refocusing on his current situation.
His right hand pressed into his jacket, grabbing a battery-powered screwdriver. The Phillips bit spun, unscrewing the control panel to the elevator. The screws fell carelessly to the floor. Normally, he never left evidence of his work, but things at the moment were not normal. The faceplate clanked on the floor. Cirk tore back the Velcro cover on his left forearm to reveal a small-modified keyboard on his left arm. His fingers moved with the precision of an accomplished pianist, orchestrating his symphony of desperation.
His specially engineered glasses overlaid a translucent computer image onto physical reality. His left arm shook, as he typed in the commands to bring up a diagnostic schematic of the elevators' wiring. The advanced technology did not even faze him anymore. Teufel had long ago found ways to acquire and perfect the proprietary information and designs of pretty much all prototype civilian equipment, and a good portion of the military's.

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