Chapter 2021 - 1457: Morning in Nieddorf (Part 2)

"Squirrel" sat up straight.

"Report it again."

"Squirrel" took a deep breath and began to recite.

"Target building has six floors, main staircase on the east side, fire escape on the west side. Room 316 faces the street, 47 square meters, divided into inner and outer rooms. Outer room is a reception area, inner room is an office. Windows face southeast, windowsill height about 90 centimeters from the ground, window lock is an old-fashioned latch lock. The electrical meter box is on the exterior wall at the back of the building, fire control room is next to the first-floor security office."

His pace was not fast, each number articulated clearly.

"Surveillance system with eight cameras, two analog covering front and rear doors, six digital covering the corridors, elevators, and stairwells. The recorder is in the first-floor security office, DVR model HIKVISION DS-7616, 16 inputs, 2TB hard drive. The alarm system Securitas 3000, 32 zones, armed from 8 PM to 7 AM."

He paused and took a breath.

"Target swipes card at the door at 7:55, first disarms the alarm, then turns on the lights and coffee machine. The coffee machine is a Nespresso commercial model, initial power draw of 1,200 watts, so there's a noticeable spike in current. At 8 o'clock, the electrical current stabilizes around 12 amps, with coffee machine, computer, and display all running."

Grey Wolf grunted.

"Squirrel" continued, "First floor security office changes shifts at 7:30. Night shift guard is Hans Mueller, 58 years old, been working here for 23 years, never late. Day shift guard is Peter Schmidt, 41 years old, also a part-time fitness instructor, arrives at 7:30 and drinks protein powder in the security office for 20 minutes before patrolling."

"And the postal van?"

"At 7:45, the postal van parks next to the mailbox at the corner, taking about three minutes. The postman is a young guy, quick, never lingers."

"What about foot traffic?"

"From 8 to 8:10 is a lull period. Those going to work are already in the office, tourists haven't started heading out yet. There's a queue in front of the bakery, but it's buy-and-go. The outdoor seats at the café have at most two tables occupied, mostly elderly, unlikely to pay attention to the street opposite."

Grey Wolf was silent for a few seconds.

"Squirrel" waited.

"Poison Snake," Grey Wolf said into his earpiece, "What can you see behind the window?"

The earpiece hissed for a few seconds, then Poison Snake's voice came through: "The blinds are pulled down, can't see inside. But you can see something just left behind the windowsill — should be that decorative Christmas tree, about 1.2 meters tall."

Grey Wolf grunted.

"Squirrel" knew what he was thinking.

A 1.2-meter tall Christmas tree, placed on the left behind the window.

This means if someone stands by the window, they'd be partially blocked by the fiddle leaf fig.

But if standing behind the office desk, the Christmas tree would be right outside the blind spot.

7:11.

Grey Wolf reached into the storage box, pulled out a stick of gum, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly.

"Squirrel" watched his profile.

How old is Grey Wolf this year?

Forty?

Forty-five?

"Squirrel" had never asked.

There were too many marks on his face.

A scar above his brow, several shallow shrapnel pits on his left cheek, wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deep as if carved by a knife.

But most striking to "Squirrel" were his eyes.

Indescribably colored eyes, gray-brown, no expression when looking at people, like two stones.

"Squirrel" had seen him use those eyes to look at many people, targets, employers, partners, women.

All the same gaze. No emotion, no warmth, just looking, assessing, calculating.

"Squirrel" sometimes wondered if he'd become like that when he got old.

He didn't want to become like that.

But he knew he was becoming like that.

7:15.

"Squirrel" opened the tablet, pulling up a video clip.

It was from the day before yesterday afternoon, when he disguised as a telecommunications technician to enter the business center, filmed with a hidden camera in his glasses.

The video wobbled a bit, then stabilized.

The first-floor corridor, light gray walls, dark gray carpet.

The right side was the security office, door closed, the sound of a TV coming from inside.

On the left was the elevator lobby, two elevators, one freight, one passenger.

At the end of the corridor was the door to the fire escape, green with an emergency exit sign.

The scene switched to the second floor.

The corridor was the same as the first, gray carpet, gray walls, tightly closed doors.

The doors had frosted glass inlays, with room numbers and company names printed on the glass.

"Squirrel's" voice came from the video, with professional enthusiasm: "No issue with the line, we just need to check the connection box in the server room."

His escort was the building's property manager, an old man in his sixties, walking slowly, speaking with a heavy Swiss German accent.

The old man mumbled along in the video, clearly uninterested in this inspection.

The screen switched to the third floor.

"Squirrel's" gaze swept over the corridor, pausing subtly on room 316's door. The frosted glass on the door was printed with "Alpine Consulting," below which was a line of small text, somewhat faded.

"This company..." "Squirrel" asked casually, "is also one of your tenants?"

The old man glanced up, shook his head: "Always been there, but never seen anyone come to work."

"Squirrel" responded with an "oh," asking no further.

What is this?

This is a person who doesn't need to exist, in a place that doesn't need to exist, doing things that don't need to exist.

7:20.

The bakery's aroma was getting stronger.