"This is the dumbest plan we've ever gone ahead with," Regex adjusted the collar of his shirt and straightened his tie, glaring at his reflection in the mirror. He impatiently watched the progress bar visible in his neural display, as a fake biometric profile was installed to align with his new cover - Xavier Holiday, a waiter at one of the most popular restaurants in the entire city. The name alone was stuffy enough to make him want to gag.
Root snorted as he glanced up from his desk, screwdriver in hand pointed at his arm. "What are your specials tonight?" he laughed, enjoying the clear discomfort on the raccoon's face. "Ah, it's fine, little man. You're gonna fight right in, this plan is flawless."
"And our only option." Syntax's voice cut in, the dog having walked in and taken her bag off her shoulder, setting it down on the wide table they used for group conversations. The usual pizza boxes and beer bottles had been cleared away to make room for a holographic platform projecting a 3D floor plan of the restaurant. "We put a lot of effort into getting Xavier on the staff sheets for this event, and it puts him in a prime position for scalping data. I'll be damned if I let this effort go to waste."
"I'm just saying this is profoundly stupid. I'm all out in the open without any backup," Regex tugged at his wrist cuffs, fumbling with the buttons. "Are we sure these biometrics are gonna mask my identity?"
"You scrubbed your biometrics from Atom, didn't you?" Syntax's question got a nod from the raccoon. "Right, so security will freak if the facial rec fails to identify you. Better you have biometrics that match your cover, instead of having none at all."
Regex let out an agitated huff. Syntax was right - as usual. Registering a new citizen inside Atom's database was as easy as filling out a form, but erasing one would leave behind a trace. He wasn't keen on giving his face back to Atom… but what choice did he have?
"Don't worry." Syntax seemed to notice his concern. "Your record has you as a visitor. As long as you stay off cameras for a few days after this op, you'll go back to being a ghost."
Markus's eyes darted around the ballroom while adjusting the spacing of wine glasses on his serving plate. He'd already linked himself to several of the most reputable attendees' neural links - CEOs, investors, some even from Atom - and started his siphon, storing the data onto the data chip in his neck.
"How are we looking?" his voice echoed through the neural comms back to the rest of his team. Syntax was back at home base, while Palette was stationed outside the ground floor lobby tagging a wall with their art. Root's position on a building facing the ballroom's giant wall-length glass window gave him clearance to the entire room, sniper trained on Markus as cover. Both his and Palette's positions were telegraphed to the raccoon through his neural HUD.
"Nothing on the comms," Palette glanced back to the lobby through the window. Bored security guards patrolled around the front doors.
"You're clear, little man," Root chuckled, scope shifting to scan the room again. "Picked up any juicy gossip?"
"Randall on my six just became a father. Twins. He's missed seven calls from his wife and his assistant."
"Reg, you've got incomplete downloads from attendees 49, 82 and 106." Syntax leaned over the table at home base, eyes narrowed as she monitored the progressing downloads. "Those are high priority targets, you need to get back over to them."
"Syn, please," Regex rolled his eyes as he handed another glass to a stuffy executive, flashing them a practiced smile. "I'll get to them when I can, I can't risk rushing over and blowing my cov--" A taller figure bumped against his shoulder, causing him to briefly lose his balance on the plate of wine glasses. He stumbled a little as he twisted his arm to regain control, panic briefly flashing across his face before he got his balance back. Root's laughter echoed through his head as he took a moment to straighten his tie before turning to look at whoever had knocked him off-balance.
"Uh, sir? Excuse me." Regex approached the figure, reaching for a wine glass as they turned to face him.
"REGGIE, BAIL OUT, YOU KNOW HIM--" Syntax cut in suddenly, but it was too late. The raccoon's blood ran cold as his facial scan identified the stranger, but he already knew their name. It was his old manager from Atom. Viktor Chazikov. The grey wolf's face wore a cold, almost unamused expression as he glared down at Regex, then at the wine glass in his paw. He carelessly snatched it out of the raccoon's grip, bringing it up to his lips to gulp down the entire drink before placing it back in his paw.
"…sorry, kid," he mumbled, "Is a very busy evening, no?"
"Yes, sir," Regex kept his cool, putting on a vague, more proper accent as he tried his best to hold Viktor's gaze. "Has everything been to your liking?"
"Food is shit," the wolf chuckled. "Ah, but company is good. Very rich. Party would be better with a poker table."
"Hah. I'm afraid we don't have one on hand, sir."
"Of course not. You think I'm an idiot?"
"Ah- n-no, sir." Markus cleared his throat. "My apologies, Mr Chazikov. Have a good night." He went to turn away, only to feel the wolf grab his shoulder. Fuck.
"…do I know you?" Viktor leaned in to get close to Regex's ear.
"I, ah… no, I don't think so, sir."
"Mm… strange. You look familiar, but… can't place your face. Do you live in Sandspire?"
"No, sir. Just an overseas business trip. I'm with the catering."
Viktor's paw lifted from Regex's shoulder as he turned away. The raccoon gasped to catch his breath, like he'd been hiding from a predator and finally gotten to safety. He quickly found his way back to the bar to set down the plate of glasses. "Do we have enough?"
"It'll have to be," Syntax sounded stressed. "Palette?"
"Something's spooked security, Reggie," the fennec watched as the previously lounging guards were now up and about, speaking with hushed voices into walkie talkies. "You need to bail."
"There's no noise on the east side of the building, if you can sneak onto the floor below you can drop from one of the windows." Root's scope turned away from the raccoon slipping out of sight into the kitchen, instead focusing on the rest of the ballroom. "It's a pretty tall drop--"
"Jump to the apartment building across the street, Reg." Syntax cut him off. "I'm tapping into the lift authentication, you'll have a clean exit."
"Cutting my wires, then." Regex had already dropped himself down to the floor before, standing at the end of a hallway and getting himself ready for a running start. "See y'all soon."