[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=orangered]Caesar Gonzalez[/color][/i][/b][/h1] [img]http://media.giphy.com/media/wbomIbUs5Bc2I/giphy.gif[/img][hr][b]Location:[/b] Queensguard Industries RnD Industrial Complex - The Diamond District [hr][hr][/center] Caesar grabbed a post-it and a pen from around the terminal, carefully jotting down the case numbers. SGJFE-1432 and 4827-IB-861. [color=orangered]"Doesn't look like numbers [i]we[/i] use... ¿Policía?"[/color] He sighed. Sooner or later, he was going to have to get police involved. Even if it was to turn over what he had collected and wash his hands of this whole business, local law enforcement needed a nod, eventually. Considering that Queensguard logos were all over the boxes, and MSS was in charge of security for their facility here, they might make for potential scapegoats. A gesture of Good Faith might be necessary to keep them all from suspicion. On the other hand, it [i]was[/i] within the company's mandate to look out for their client's interests. While it might not be the most moral thing with which to be involved, it is what they did. Further, the older man's own history wasn't exactly a series of bake sales and puppy adoptions. He had killed. Brutally. Viciously. He had taken lives up close and personal, on contract from various entities and arcane bureaucracies, all for the sake of the eventual common good. In exposing these incidents and the people involved, he may very well be betraying his contractors and setting back a series of operations to which he simply hadn't been read into. But why for fuck's sake wouldn't "They" read him in? His company was going to be on site, they would be right in the middle of the fireworks. He had clearance enough to be told to avoid certain things or allow certain people access. But he wasn't. That was a strike against the possibility that it was Agency or Bureau sponsored. Or Federale, for that matter. It was enough to make his head hurt. Why the hell was he looking into this so hard in the first place? It was Caesar's job to see to his company and look after Alicia and Lorna. This extra ... But that was why. People dying in Boston Heights. He didn't want his girls to be next. Find the trail, follow the trail, stop the killings. While he wasn't as computer savvy as his daughter, Caesar was familiar with the ins and outs of his company's intranet. His next step was to save the footage viewed and tuck it away in some dark corner, hidden under something mundane but generally inaccessible. A non-work point of discussion was raised, his M'hija mentioned that she had a game later that evening. While Caesar was aware of his daughter's new sporting activities, he had yet to witness it for himself. [color=orangered]"Tonight, M'hija? ¿Que hora? I'm meeting with someone early this evening, but I want to see you play."[/color] The elder man bobbed his head and gave one of a very few natural, unfettered smiles at Alicia, saying, [color=orangered]"Even if I'm hiding in the rafters like a Mexican Batman, hmmm?"[/color]