Bex reached the drain and ascended the ladder to it, finding herself in a mechanical room being used as a closet. Pausing at the sound of whistling coming from the next room, peeking through the door, she discovered the source of the sound: A lone guard getting dressed in the locker room.
Silently gliding out of the closet she approached him as he moved to pull his uniform out of his locker. The subtle movement of Bex unsheathing her knife was imperceptible to human ears. In the same instant that she grabbed him by the mouth, he was stabbed in the back of the neck at the highest point and gently lowered into the locker as he went limp and blank. Bex immediately noticed the logo on the uniform hanging in the locker.
Bex closed the locker door and inspected the rest of the room, seeing that she was alone, hid so she could use her radio.
"Saima, the security contractors here are from Swan-Song." Bex stated.
"Swan-Song Security, LLC? The same company that's been providing security at the last few sites we've infiltrated. Are they really so dirty as to be working with Shitbots?" Saima asked.
"Looks like it, not like we expected much else from a corporation with this bad of a fetish for terrible licensed copies of Franchi guns." Bex added.
Bex lightly opened the door ever so slightly to the hallway and spotted two guards without being noticed. "Yep, still using LF-57's. Just go with an MP5 or an Uzi at this point, there's literally no valid reason for an American company to be near-exclusively using something as antiquated and niche as the LF-57, especially when everything else is a dime-a-dozen." She complained.
"I swear, that contract with Vernichtung, UG making them their sole supplier of arms is their one problem that's bigger than their corruption, or you making an a joke of them on a biweekly basis while we're on the subject. I'm honestly surprised that they still get work after that what you did to them at Seal Biotech lab." Saima said.
Bex's gaze moved to two men in hazmat suits moving a hermetically sealed box covered in biohazard stickers and a conspicuous logo down the hallway. "Speaking of Seal Biotech, I just saw a massive box with their name on it go through the hall in a hurry. At this rate it looks like all the usual suspects for corporate corruption are working with the Shitbots." Bex expounded.
"The stuff you've seen so far alone is enough to get their offices raided by Undefinables and just about everyone from the shareholders to the janitors arrested and given a life sentence, are you sure you don't want to just dial the hotline and get out before something goes wrong?" Saima suggested.
"Whatever's going on here is clearly big, big enough it needs to be ended as soon as possible, by the time they've finished reading through the evidence, this place will have already served it's purpose. I can feel it, the rushing around of workers, the security, this place exudes anxiousness and it reeks of whatever they're doing here, they're either almost finished or ahead of schedule." Bex explained.
"Well… I can't stop you." Saima said, mildly disappointed.
Bex crawled into a ventilation duct and began using it to traverse the facility without being detected. Coming to a vent overlooking a meeting room, she noticed something and paused to watch. A large Shitbot in a Ushanka and clad in Explosive Reactive Armor bricks stood above two other Shitbots, shouting at them in indecipherable butchered Russian.
"Calm yourself, Number 91…" Said a Shitbot donning a 10-gallon hat and twirling a pair of antique revolvers in his hands. "Project Shitstorm is proceeding exactly as planned, there's no need to get upset." It continued.
"DO VILLY VESTERN VHITBOTS NOT VUNDERSTAND MY VIMPECCABLVE VUSSIAN? I VAS COMPLIVENTING VYOU!!!" Number 91 responded.
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves now…" The third Shitbot interjected while smoking a cigarette in spite of it's lack of a mouth, it wore a wig and sunglasses. "…We've gotta keep this whole operation quiet, if we don't, one of those Shirleyist gits will figure out something somewhere is up and start looking for something, something like this island, with this facility, with this plan being hatched." It explained.
"You're concerns have been accounted for, Number 84." The revolver-twirling Shitbot replied with a calm and commanding tone. "Now if I remember correctly, we have much more important tasks than wasting breath on baseless security concerns to attend to." It stated.
The three Shitbots all left the room. Bex immediately phoned home.
"Did you see that?" She asked.
"Yeah, those three are each on the International Shirleyist Defense Organization's most wanted list. There's no way you can take them out, none of your gear's good for that." Saima stated.
"Guess we'll be calling the hotline after all." Bex mumbled.
"Got it. They'll have an Undefinable at the island soon, I'll make sure they send someone quiet, it'll be a while, though. I guess a triple-assassination just got added to our to-do list." Saima replied.
"Just tell me know when they get here." Bex said as she continued through the vents, disgruntled that the mission just got more complicated.