[h1]Lekh Antol, Birth of Silence[/h1]

[u][b]Sometime after the meeting with Miss Vale[/b][/u]

[color=bc8dbf]“What do you mean by code-name?”[/color] Lekh asked his younger associate, an errand boy called Tome, which was quite frankly a silly name, especially if he chose it for himself.

“You ‘ave to ‘ave nickname for us to call you by, none of us use our real names, better off thinkin’ of somethin’ scary like.”

[color=bc8dbf]“That, is ridiculous.”[/color]

“Rules are rules.” 

[color=bc8dbf]“Fine. Call me something dramatic, oh I know…”[/color] His mind worked quickly, deciding on what he wanted to be named. Something that was a little subtle, that held some fearful connotations would be best if he was trying to be intimidating. 

[color=bc8dbf]“Call me Silence.”[/color]

[u][b]One Week Before Present[/b]
[/u]

He’d received the message in the early hours of the morning as he lay staring up at the white-washed ceiling in his decidedly average apartment, situated just outside the French Quarter. The intermissions between messages had been growing shorter and shorter in recent weeks, and the difficulty was ramping up. They were still testing him, but at least the money was coming in now. Five thousand dollars, not bad for three weeks work, and he’d hardly had to bloody his hands for it either. He hid it through the usual channels, lots, couple bank accounts, even in a briefcase under his mattress. Sometimes the classics were the most effective.

As he stared at the slightly flickering words on the phone screen however he knew things were going to be tough. He’d seen the CDC on TV and it looked only slightly less secure than a prison, for obvious reasons, and now he was being asked to infiltrate it. This was going to be a stretch of his abilities, both physical, mental, and supernatural. Still, he had an in thought out in an hour or so and it was only a matter of implementing it. There were transfer schemes for security guards when numbers were tight, they filled in vital positions until the regular staff could return to duty. He could easily get himself on the register as a part-time substitute. The trick was getting sufficient guards off work in the least suspicious fashion.

So there he was, it was lunch-time and he was wearing ordinary clothes with a forged key-card. It wouldn’t hold up to any scrutiny, but with glasses on he looked the stereotypical part of a doctor. He wasn’t going inside though, oh no, he was holding a tray of mini-donuts and had flagged down a trio of guards.

[color=bc8dbf]“Ah, hello there fellows.”[/color] He adopted a nasal and distinctly posh American accent as he addressed the group, they looked up at him not all that welcoming. [color=bc8dbf]“It’s my last day and I would like these taken to my fellow doctors, just drop it off in the upper-staff room would you, hmm?”[/color] He made the request as condescending as possible, almost layering it on a little too thick, but it had the desired effect.

“Oh yeah, right then just leave those here and we’ll get right on it for you, Doc.” 

[color=bc8dbf]“Good.”[/color] Lekh walked away without thanking them, further rubbing salt in the wound as he left the area. As he had expected, it only took a moment for the group of guards to suspect he had left, though he in fact lurked round a corner, and begin eating the donuts in response to his rude request. He smiled beneath his thick rimmed glasses and walked away, the first phase of his plan had been the easiest part, now it was a matter of contacting Tome to put him in touch with the right people.

Lekh started his first day of work just three days after Racheli’s arrival at the CDC. He was a temp, but he came highly recommended and was given about as much freedom as the six guards that had all left sick the previous afternoon. Extreme bouts of food poisoning were the diagnosis, apparently, the CDC was nervous about things like mass illness and a couple of guards had taken holiday out of fear, leaving the CDC more than a little light of staff. He was easy going, quick to laugh and attentive to what people had to say. His name was John Smith, his temp-pass said so, and in just a couple of days people nodded as he passed. That being said, most could barely remember his name. It was a careful balancing act being both likeable and forgettable, but he managed it by having not a single point of interest in his own history. He deflected questions with practiced ease and turned the conversation around to other topics, namely those he wanted information on. ‘Anything interesting happened here then recently?’ ‘What do those doctors get up to in here anyway?’ He didn’t know what he was after yet, intel had been sketchy, he just knew that something big had come into the CDC and the Syndicate wanted eyes on it, in case it was worth stealing or worth being worried about. God only knew why the Syndicate cared about disease or chemicals, especially with all the other shit that had gone down in Lost Haven in recent weeks. 

It took him just another day to discover that a young woman infected with some kind of unidentified disease was the cause of the disturbance. In a few more hours he had her name and her location, all the online essentials. He spent a lot of time scouting out the layout, trying to learn more about her exact condition without giving the game away. He had to be careful, there were cameras everywhere in the CDC and his power caused them all sorts of trouble. Even when reined in his power distorted the cameras feed, so if anyone looked carefully his face would be indiscernible, like it were in low resolution. These were all problems he was accustomed to though, and he had a gift for this exact sort of business. He’d worked so efficiently that he was actually ahead of the Cowl himself in terms of Intel, though he fed through what he knew it wouldn’t reach the boss until the morning after his interview with Jacqueline. 

He watched her through the observation glass, carefully and from too far away as he stood on the far side of the corridor pretending to be working. For some reason her room had been refitted, many of the usual compliments had been refitted and certain observation equipment had been moved off the usual metal gurneys on to plastic structures. It was odd what Lekh noticed, or perhaps not. He barely glanced at the woman’s appearance, only long enough to gauge her age and remember her prominent features. But he spent ages watching the doctor’s expression when they left the room and removed the compulsory equipment. They seemed frustrated, something about her behaviour was infuriating the scientists, but what? It took him a while to get it, but it seemed to be her general attitude and her refusal to eat most of the time. Her aggression was understandable, but it was also worthy of note if it went beyond a situational irritation to a personality flaw. 

It was on the second day of observation that he discovered why the metal in her room had been replaced. One of the doctors carried a metallic spoon into the room, nodding to the camera and holding up two fingers. It seemed they were conducting some sort of test and Lekh watched as intensely as possible without giving himself away. His eyes widened momentarily as the spoon flew across open air of its own accord towards the patient. It was the first thing Lekh had seen to make him believe this woman was worth his time so keeping the excitement from his face was difficult. Still, he had something to report later.

The report went out with another more urgent one just beneath, high priority. The patient was to be moved to another facility the following day at noon. Planned route and timeline included below, infiltration of transport crew viable, please advise. Things were heating up.