Lights Out
It had been a normal day.
As normal as days got around here, anyway.
But now it was significantly less normal than usual.
First some guards had shown up dead. That wasn't too unusual. Not everyone in Foxhound had quite the same
appreciation
for the lives of others. The truly worrisome thing had come later.
Some guards had shown up alive.
Not just alive, though, but knocked out.
And they seemed to form a path. A path like the one someone infiltrating the building might take. A path straight to the fuse box where all the power for Foxhound HQ was controlled.
The fuse box was okay, but there was no sign of the guards. An emergency meeting was called. That's when the trouble started.
The lights went out. All power was gone. Everyone knew what that meant. There was still someone on the roof, and he'd likely destroyed the fuse box. Everyone immediately regretted picking the room without windows. There was suddenly a lot of swearing, mostly directed at other people in the room. People tend to do that when they're under pressure.
Then a door opened.
Then a door closed.
There was a mad, chaotic rush, but by end of it, everyone was still in the room, perfectly quiet. There was some more swearing. You could have sworn you'd heard someone use a codec, except that it's impossible to hear someone use a codec. Odd, that.
A familiar voice spoke up. Or was it familiar? It was suddenly very hard to tell. "What should we do?"
"Well," said another voice, "he hasn't killed anyone yet, has he?"
"I think," someone said, absolutely calmly, "we should
vote
."
And the last days of Foxhound began.
