Dirty Business (Open)

Central City holding the main database for every other police department was annoying. Even more so when it required manual, physical deposits of data packs sometimes in order to ensure maximum safety. Harder to hack. Harder to catch wind of. Palmer had been picked for 'mule duty' this time and had just finished up his stint in the highly secure data center in King's Castle. "Granite, right?" The detective turned, eyeing one of the castle guards. "Yeah. What can I do for you?" The bald, sunglasses-wearing man smiled wide. "Oh, nothing too serious, mate. Just wondering if you could take this up to filing for me before you go; my post has me here for another six hours."

A plain manilla folder. He wordlessly accepted it. "And filing is...?" The suited baldie nodded. "Five doors down from the President's auxiliary office. Don't worry about clearance; he rarely uses the thing." Granite resisted the immediate urge to inform the guard that, perhaps, he shouldn't give out information like that so freely. "Got it. Have a good one." An elevator ride later, he was walking down the silky hallway, the guards giving him a passing glance. Palmer slowed as he spotted an unusual sight - a jumpsuited repairman of some kind who didn't seem to know EXACTLY where he was going.

"Hey pal," In his black attire and sunglasses, Palmer might pass for a castle guard to the uninitiated eye - one like Sen. "You need help finding someone's office?"

"Uh-" The guy moved too fast for his device to mean anything. Uploaded? Files?? Palmer knew what the lingo meant on its own, but what that had to do with knowing where to go... did they just give out maps for King's Castle? "Sure." He went along with it. "Common mistake, I bet." Palmer's demeanor remained calm and stoic, light glinting from his sunglasses. While he was buying Sen's act entirely, outwardly, it'd almost seem like he was suspicious! "The President?" Odd. Though given the floor he was on, Palmer assumed the man MUST be looking for the auxiliary office. No way they'd just let anyone into the real deal.

"I was headed down that way already. Let me show you." He slung the files underarm, taking up a quick pace through the hallway. There were a few guards here and there, but the security was pretty lax for the average intern and paper sorter. "So. What's broken? Must be specialized since we have folks capable of basic repair in the building." Or they should. That's how it worked at the PD where he was from. Palmer's wristwatch began to ring, the cop huffing. "Sorry, gotta take this. Hey. Yeah. No, just with someone right now. Repair guy. Yeah. See you soon."

TWC: 460