Gwen Dailey; Oracle (digitaldelphi) wrote in musingslogs, @ 2011-01-27 15:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | oracle |
WHO: Gwen
WHAT: A quick once over that gives more questions than answers
WHERE: Back at her apartment
WHEN: After the National Guard debacle
WARNINGS: None! I think
Gwen was quick to thank everyone for taking her back home and even quicker to shoo them away. They had more than enough work ahead of them. They had to act quickly.
She hadn’t forgotten that Bat was noticeably absent on the commlink but she had to switch gears. Cipher and Robin were already aware and she could trust that they would pursue all the leads that would be most obvious first. And she wasn’t foolish enough to not believe there might be some ways of contact the Bat that weren’t open to Oracle, that were purely for the two closest to him. She would have to trust that they would be explored.
Instead she turned her attention to the computers she had in the hotel room. She had been careful, she was always careful, and yet the image of the girl holding the paper wouldn’t leave her alone. Their hotel room had written on it. Someone knew they were going in, and didn’t care. They were more interested in the offsite team than the ones doing the rescuing. In fact from what she gathered, they hadn’t had any trouble getting the remaining survivors out of there.
Her attempts at wiping her computers had been cut short so she scanned through them first. She went through them quickly and thoroughly, watching the screens flip open and closed and skimmed every line of data that popped up. Other than her last command to erase the data, nothing else had been touched. No files had been accessed or searched for. Nothing was missing. Nothing had been tampered with.
She went through her motions again, and still came up short. She checked for physical changes, anything plugged or unplugged, broken or inserted, and found nothing had changed on her gear. She went through her bags and found nothing missing and nothing added other than the vials that Corbinian had packed for her.
They hadn’t wanted the tech or the intel. So why did they break in? Why did they attack?
The troubling thoughts had her reaching for her neck, gingerly touching the spot on her throat where the tranq dart had hit her. The skin was still sensitive, still ached though the pain was secondary. Then her fingertips traced over to the true center of her worry, where a dull pain continued to pulse – an injection mark at the back of her neck. From the tenderness of it, the mark felt big. Whatever needle had been in there had been large and what they took from her, or what they had given her, she couldn’t guess. The worst part was that she didn’t have the time to.
Now that she was sure they had nothing that would jeopardize anyone else, no intel on the masks, no way of accessing the network remotely, she put aside thoughts of the evening’s op. The mission was accomplished. The quarantined had been rescued. Now onto the next rescue operation.