The screen was slowly getting darker. The ambient street light was helping, but it was quite hard to see faces and we were losing color; I could tell the difference between a man and a woman and their ages, but just barely.
It came to the end of the working day and everything began to close down; people going home were throwing switches and the light dwindled. In the end there were lights only in the reception area and corridors.
I left the tape running at normal speed. What I now wanted to know was whether there was a night watchman around, but I couldn't see anyone.
Kelly was loving it. She'd seen four actors, two of the Spice Girls, and a teacher from her school. Not bad at all. But what if she did recognize somebody? I'd have to take it with a grain of salt; after all, she was only seven. But I'd have nothing to lose in believing her.
"Do you want to do this again tomorrow?"
"Sure. I have more points than you."
"So you do. I tell you what, after all that winning I think you should lie down on the bed and take a nap."
If Kelly or I identified anybody on the tape tomorrow, it would be a bonus for me to take to Simmonds and prove a link. It would also mean that I'd definitely have to CTR close target reconnaissance the building and find out why they were there. I decided to go and have a closer look at the outside, and then I could plan how to make entry.
By 11 p.m. Kelly was sound asleep, still fully clothed. I put the bedspread over her, picked up the key card, and left.
To avoid the office I came out of the hotel via the emergency stairs. I got on the road by the highway, turned right, and walked past the playhouse toward the target. The traffic was quieter now, just peaks of noise instead of a constant roar.
I turned right, then right again. I was on Ball Street. It was the back I really needed to take a look at, but first I wanted to recon the front again. I wanted to see if there was a night watchman in there and get a mental picture of what it looked like inside.
I moved into a doorway across the way. If I was spotted, I'd pretend I was drunk and taking a piss. I was in deep shadow as I looked over at the target. I could see through the two sets of doors into the reception area; the lights were still on, giving a sheen to the wet concrete steps and the leaves of the bushes. I looked upstairs and saw light shining through the windows directly above the main entrance. That meant the corridor lights were on upstairs as well.
I waited around for fifteen minutes, watching for signs of movement. Was security sitting downstairs watching the TV?
Was he upstairs, doing his rounds? I didn't see anything.
Time to look at the rear.
I went back the way I'd come but instead of turning left went right toward the river. It was just a one-lane road with muddy mush on the sides and potholes filled with oily water that glistened in the ambient light. Using the shadows, I passed the scrap-metal yard and crossed over the railway tracks that led to the old cement depot. My footsteps
made more noise than the highway now. Fences divided all the plots, secured with old chains and padlocks. I followed the road farther, looking for a point to turn and get behind the target.
The highway lights weren't strong enough to have any effect at this distance, but I could make out the mist coming from the river. I'd reached a dead end. A fence blocked the old road, and a large, muddy turning circle had been made by cars looking for a parking space and discovering what I just had. I could also see lights from the airport, beyond the woods that sloped down to the Potomac.
There was no alternative but to walk back to the abandoned railway tracks, which years ago would have been a branch of the main line. I looked left, following the tracks;
they ran about two hundred yards to the rear of the target, and to their left were some old, rusted corrugated-iron buildings.
I started climbing over the wire gates where the trains would have gone through to the depot. The padlocked chains rattled under the strain. I got into some shadow and waited.
There were no dogs barking, and the airport was probably closed down this late at night because it was so close to the city; all I could hear was a distant siren.
I carried on along the tracks, and soon the only noises were of my feet and breath.
To my right was the scrap yard enclosed by a fence, with old cars piled on top of each other seven or eight high. After about a hundred yards the ground started to open up and I could see buildings. Fences made it clear what belonged to whom. The area had been cleared and flattened, ready for developers. One of those buildings beyond it was the rear of my target; on the other side I could see street lights on Ball Street and the highway. The drizzle gave them a misty, faded appearance.
I slowed down, had a quick look at the target, then started to walk across the 150 yards of newly leveled ground to a fence that was about 50 yards short of the target building.
Near the fence I found some bushes, stopped, and squatted down. The things that always give you away are shape, shine, shadow, silhouette, spacing, and movement. Forget about them and they'll get you killed.
Still on my haunches, I did nothing but sit and watch for the next few minutes. You have to give your senses a chance to adjust to a new environment. After a while my eyes began to adapt to the light and I could start to make things out. I could see that there were no windows in the back of the building, just a solid brick wall. There was, however, a four-flight steel staircase leading to the ground. This was the fire escape route for both the first and second floors. To the right of it at ground level were the meter boxes for the building's utilities.
I looked at the fire exits. If I had to make entry at some stage to find out what PIRA was up to, that was probably the way I'd go in. It depended whether they had external locks, and there was only one way to find out.
I scanned along the line of the six-foot chain-link fence, looking for a break. I couldn't see one. Grabbing the top edge of the wire, I pulled myself up, got a foot on the top, and clambered over. I crouched down again and stayed still, watching and listening for any reaction.
There was no need to rush; slow movement meant that not only did I reduce noise and the risk of being detected, I could also control my breathing and hear more around me. I used the shadows created by the building and trees, moving from one pool of darkness to the next, all the time keeping eyes on the target and the surrounding area.
Once I got close enough, I stopped at the base of two trees and stood against one of the trunks. Looking at the rear wall, I noticed a motion detector that had been fixed at a height and angle to cover people walking up the fire escape. I had no way of knowing what the detector triggered, whether an alarm, a light, or a camera, or maybe all three. I couldn't see any cameras.
But I could see lights, two of them, one above each fire exit. They weren't on. Were they what the motion detector would trigger? Probably, but why wasn't there also a camera covering the rear so that security could see what had triggered the light? It didn't matter; I'd treat the detector as if it triggered everything.
I noted three wooden pallets to the right of the building by the fence. I could use those.
I looked at the doors. They had sheet steel covering them, together with an extra strip that went over the frame to prevent anyone from tampering with the gap. Close up, I could see that the locks were the pin-tumbler type. Piece of cake; I could defeat them.
A quick check of the utilities boxes and dials showed me that gas, electricity, water, and telephone were all there, all exposed and ready to be played with. I was feeling better about this all the time.
I was still worried about the possibility of a night watch man. In some circumstances, it can actually be a bonus. You can try to get him to come and open the door and hey presto, you've got an unalarmed entry. However, if I had to go in, it would be covertly.