Cheshire's Rule #2 - There is no such thing as adequate preparation.

Just a little something I remind myself of on a near constant basis. It keeps me from getting lazy. Which is important, since the theme music for my life resembles the credits from the Benny Hill Show.

Tonight, though, seemed about as easy as could be. That's when the hairs on the back of my neck begin to stir, just when it all seems to be going perfectly. The calm before the storm, so to speak. Still, I'd cased Omega Corp's New York City offices about as well as could be expected. So many amateurs just don't understand the need for good information, or the number of ways to get it. In this case, I added impersonating a postal official to my list of criminal offenses, and delivered a number of unexpected boxes of candy to the employees. The office manager was more than a little surprised, since he didn't remember having ordered them, and they weren't anywhere in his budget.

Security officers come in three types, none of them particularly dangerous if you know what you're dealing with. The ones covering the early evening shift here were of the donut-eating variety. They sat at the main desk and took the occassional walk, right on their schedule. Which made it very easy to know where they were at any given time, and allowed me to be where I needed to be. The restricted access file room with a flashlight. The security camera was showing a nice pre-recorded loop of just what they'd expect to see, an empty room. They had no reason to check here, and I wasn't about to give them one.

All in all, it took about two hours of flipping through paperwork to track down some of the information I was looking for. Yes, Omega had been sponsoring the Psichon project, but unfortunately the records for it were elsewhere. Some of the current research projects were interesting, though, and I took the quiet time to study a few of the little toys they were designing. Some people love movies, others curl up in front of the fireplace with that someone special. Me, I read tech manuals for entertainment. This worries me to no end.

Still, even such fun and games must stop after a time, and I reluctantly tucked away the design for a miniaturized power system that could operate a main battle tank and yet still fit into the palm of your hand. The time I had available was all used up, and I really didn't want to have to wait through a shift change. Too much additional risk. Quietly, I locked the door to the subbasement, doing it with a hairpin and my eyes closed to keep in practice, and crept back up the stairs.

Cheshire's Rule #5 - When all else fails, bluff.

Ever have one of those days? I have one of those lives. Not only do I see somebody coming around the turn just as I get up to the top of the stairs, it would also have to be none other than Richard Meglan. What the President of Omega Corp. is doing here at nine in the evening, I have no idea, especially with that lady on his arm.

Now I'm not the type to overreact to much, but I had to resist doing a potentially death-calling double-take. That's no lady, it's Angel, little miss convert-or-die herself. Just what I need to make my life complete, a dangerous psychopath who probably wouldn't like it known who she's hanging around with.

"What the... who are you?" Mr. Meglan's tone wasn't exactly a happy one. I think he was a lot more surprised to see me than vice versa. Fortunately, Angel's expression hadn't changed one bit. A cheaply dressed woman with a temporary ID card doesn't strike most people as a threat, especially when you think you can kill them out of hand.

"Mr. Meglan! Oh my god, it is just such an honor!" I grabbed his hand in both of mine and began pumping like I expected water to come pouring out of his mouth. Actually, the only thing spilling out of anybody's was mine, and it was one heck of a lot less pure, "I can't believe that I'm actually talking to one of the richest men in the world today! My name's Lisa, I'm working as a temp here to get the accounting sorted for those government projects? Anyway, I'm sure you already know, but those should be done by next Thursday."

Meglan's expression sort of glazed over, not wanting to admit that he had no idea what I was talking about. There really was such a task going on, but it wasn't anything that he would be concerned with. Just part of the day to day running of the business. But a temp wouldn't know that. "Good, good, you're finished for the night?"

I responded with a nod and a broad grin, "Going home to get dressed for a night on the town. My boyfriend's taking me out dancing." I carefully stepped around the two and began to walk towards the front door, heels clicking on the tile floor. "A pleasure to meet you Mr. Meglan."

Cheshire's Rule #10 - Curiosity doesn't kill the cat. Unless you get caught.

But only until I was out of sight. Or rather, until they had proceeded down the stairs. Angel and Meglan? Interesting tabloid fodder, but this wasn't a hotel and the rooms down below weren't the type of place you take someone on a date. So this was business, and given what I knew of Omega already I wanted to know what Angel's interest was.

I love video bugs. This one transmitted very nicely into the back of the security station at the end of the hall. I replaced the looped tapes with the regular ones while I listened in on the conversation going on down below as the two of them sorted through another set of files. These I had ignored, as they seemed to focus on business interests as opposed to research.

"Okay, here's the information on the Academy. Why your interest?" Meglan's voice, genuinely curious, "It's just a PR project." He separated several pages from a folder and set them down on a table, where Angel began poring over them with a terrifying intensity.

"Because, dear Richard, I want the Academy." I'd never pictured her voice as a deep, husky purr, but then I can't say as I ever gave it much thought. A real femme fatale, "It will make an excellent recruiting center."

Timing has never been my strong point, but fortunately alertness makes up for it. The boots of the security guards sounded against the tile loudly enough to wake the dead, or so it seemed to me, and I slipped out of the station while pressing record on my receiver. A quick jaunty wave to the guards and I was out the door. Academy? Angel recruiting? This was going to require some checking into. The last thing I need is a bunch of fanatics running around blowing things up.

One of us is enough.