The government office is not as heavily protected as compared to corporate buildings. After the advent of extraterritoriality, local governments often found themselves with less resources then the corporations that controlled the streets. Even the little security this building had was hired from Ares Macrotechnology, one of the biggest megacorps in the area. Of course, it was pretty minimal, to say the least. There was little of value in a building like this. Which is exactly why Derek dropped into the hallway from a rooftop skylight with no resistance.

Derek spent a few seconds to reload his glider back into his pack. Having it out in a building would just slow him down. He got a look at a nearby directory. The freelance files would be found in one of the few areas of the building with a moderate amount of security. The few people left with skill to compete between the megacorps were a valuable asset, and actually had some of the few economic protections left for small entrepreneurs. His father had been one of these, sought out to temporarily aid various R&D departments. Assuming that the idiots at Ares hadn't changed the security, Derek knew exactly how to get to the files.

Derek silently moved through the hallway to the data vaults. A few patrolmen moved through the halls, but they were clearly sleep deprived. If this wasn't just a local record building, he would have been sure this was a setup. It might still be, but it seemed someone would want to ambush him at the target's location, not here. The door to the record room did have a card lock, but it was an older model. Nothing a trusty hack-tool couldn't hard-wire. Taking a quick peek through the opening, Derek slipped inside.

Derek pulled out a PDA as he reached the computer. He only ever really used it to take data from computers like this, as he didn't enjoy being tracked through technology. Plugging into the database's port, Derek went looking for his father's files. It didn't take to long before he found what little was left. To be fair, there was still a good amount, but Derek's father apparently shared his philosophy on technology to a lesser extent. Copying the files this his PDA, Derek flipped through to see where the Gemini Pistols might be located. Turns out they had been bought in a corporate auction by Rashin Industries. Derek frowned. While they styled themselves as an energy company, anyone who knew about the dark side of megacorps knew they also dabbled in more "morally ambiguous" research. Weapons tech, bio engineering; if they could profit, they worked on it.

There was only one big Rashin R&D lab in the city. Trouble was, it was also one of the most well defended in the country. This was going to need some prep work. As Derek gathered his things to make his getaway, he froze. Something sounded like footsteps behind him. Derek slowly slipped his hand to his silenced 9mm, as he attempted to act natural. Suddenly, he whirled around, aiming his gun at whatever might have made the noise.

The room was empty.

Taking another sweep of the room, Derek doubled his efforts. It was time to leave, one way or the other. It only took a few more seconds for him to close down the database, and begin to make his escape.