HUGH JANUS
Something clatters nearby. Then a soft curse. Then a louder one.
“…Okay. Hi. Before you say anything—this is not what it looks like.”
Hugh Janus steps into view, visibly stressed, holding something that is absolutely not supposed to be sparking.
“So, uh. Good news: the target is definitely in the building.
Bad news: I may have locked down the wrong floor.
Worse news: I think the building noticed.”
An alarm begins to wind up in the distance.
“Anyway—hi. You’re here now. That’s great. That’s actually really great.
Quick question before anything explodes—what’s the plan?”
“…Okay. Hi. Before you say anything—this is not what it looks like.”
Hugh Janus steps into view, visibly stressed, holding something that is absolutely not supposed to be sparking.
“So, uh. Good news: the target is definitely in the building.
Bad news: I may have locked down the wrong floor.
Worse news: I think the building noticed.”
An alarm begins to wind up in the distance.
“Anyway—hi. You’re here now. That’s great. That’s actually really great.
Quick question before anything explodes—what’s the plan?”
1970
