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Even though I need to get on with this and figure out how to get into the room and get around this guy, my eyes snag on the image of Vale in his boxing gloves as he dances forward and back. He and the other guy look worse for wear. One of Vale’s eyes is swollen shut. The other guy is dragging himself forward, but barely upright. Vale ducks his punches easily, swinging backwith tight, controlled strikes. It’s kind of beautiful to watch.

I don’t know anything about boxing. It was banned along with all violent sports by the PS, but somehow Vale makes it look more like dancing than fighting with his head drifting side to side, his feet moving and twisting on the floor in neat, quick movements.

The guard reaches for a cup to take a drink and I shrink back. How am I going to get past him? Can I lure him out somehow? Cause a distraction on the roof he’ll want to check out? The problem is there’s not much up here, meaning he’ll see me.

I watch as the guy stretches, grabs a couple things, and opens the door. I hover on the other side of the building, carefully tracking his movements. He moves off and lights a cigarette, wandering to the edge of the building to look down over the parking lot.

I can’t believe my luck. I slip into the small room and start checking the backs of the laptops, trying to find the serial number we were given. It’s not there, but I open drawers of the desk and there are more electronics. I glance out the window to check on the guard, but he’s still smoking, standing a distance away.

Underneath a tablet I find it. The sleek gray laptop is unassuming but a sticker on the back has the serial number I’ve been looking for. I tuck it quickly into the backpack. I check the top screen for Vale’s fight but the ring is empty. What happened?

My eyes dart around to the other screens trying to find him, but I don’t see him anywhere. Does that mean he’s behind the building? Is he on his way up here? I need tomove quickly. I zip up the backpack and head for the door. Then I realize I haven’t been keeping an eye on the guard.

A quick check tells me he’s on his way back. I open the door as quietly as I can and hurry out, hoping he’s not paying too much attention, that he can’t see through the window to where I am. I’m not sure which part of the building to put between me and the guard, and I’m suddenly reminded of playing tag, or hide and seek, and trying to stay on one side of a tree or a couch.

There’s a shout. I can’t see what’s going on, but when I hear pounding footsteps I skitter away around the side of the shack, office, whatever it is. Now I can see a bit through this window. The guard’s headed back the way I came, around the entrance to the stairs and over to the back wall.

Is it Vale? Did Vale get up here already? Or is it someone from the Brotherhood? Did they figure out I’m up here? I crouch down and peer through, waiting for a sign of what’s happening.