The animal reception centre was a squat, brutalist complex along a dead-end road just outside the perimeter of Heathrow airport. Sebastian arrived not long before midnight and parked his car out front—within Wi-Fi range of the main building, at Jay’s request. He leaned against the hood, smoking a cigarette as he studied the exterior of the centre.
His initial plan had been to wait until it closed. Unfortunately, Anika had been quick to inform him that the centre never closed. It was open 24 hours.
“I found an unsecured tank thermometer in the reptile wing,” Jay said in his ear. “I’m using it as a foothold into the network.”
Sebastian exhaled a lungful of smoke. “Cameras?”
“Got them already. Just need to clear out the staff. Schedule says there’s supposed to be two on shift tonight, but one called in sick. The other one’s logged into the reception desk.”
Sebastian dropped the cigarette to the asphalt and stubbed it out with his boot. Direct confrontation this close to an international airport could get ugly, fast.
Then again …
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