[Crossbow]

"Guys, I am all for finding a bottle right now, but if we start tearing up walls without checking in with our 'host', we might not be able to get out again.  I am going back down to try and link up."

With that Digger trudges back down to the bottom and starts checking rooms and doors from the bottom, up

[Kontact]

Machete combed over the desk, expecting there to be some sort of hidden catch or a panic button, but there wasn't anything like that.  He moved the pillars, and they weren't attached to the floor or anything.  He could pick them up and move them about freely.  It was supremely puzzling.  Whoever this man was, he was important enough that he didn't need to bother with security, because he never met with anyone who could be considered a security risk, and he didn't need to hide anything, because there was no one in a position to question him about anything.  The desk itself had multiple drawers locked with old tooth-and-pin key locks.  It would be a simple enough matter to pry them open.

[inca1980]

Machete pulls out his machete and pries open the desk drawers.

[Kontact]

Machete is greeted by a bizarre sight.  Paper.  Manilla envelopes filled with paper.  Analog paydata by the pound.  Could be useful, or it could be garbage.  After all, CATCo died nearly a decade ago.

[inca1980]

Machete searches the perimeter of the office to see if there are any side rooms, closets or cabinets and will look inside of them.

[Xzylvador]

Not knowing what else to do, Devoted joins the search.

[Kontact]

The room gives up no secrets.  Everything is decidedly low tech and openly displayed.  You wouldn't be surprised to find a file cabinet save that the massive desk obviates the need for one.

[inca1980]

Machete looks over at devoted.  "Hey kid, take a look at this.  While I go back out and search the surrounding rooms why don't you try to make some sense about what these papers are talking about."

With that the Aztlaner moves away from the open desk and goes back outside the office.  He'll try the doors he passed on the way to the top office while going up the ascending walkway.  If he gets inside he'll conduct a search of each room.  If not maybe he can break the glass walls with a shotgun round or two.

[Xzylvador]

Devoted liked, no, he loved reading and accepted the task with pleasure. Of course the documents would be about economics and business -which he knew nothing about- but at least he could try finding out if any of it was potentially interesting to them.
He sat down and started browsing through the pages.

[Kontact]

Devoted breezed through the documents trying to find anything interesting.  There were projected earnings and mission statements and general headhunting information.  All of the bite-sized information fit for a rubber stamp could be found in the desk, but there was a genuine question as to what 20-year-old information from an imploded corporation could be used for besides kindling.  Supposing the CEO had survived and was in a position to pay, there wasn't too much one could hope to blackmail him with.  After all, compartmentalization meant that he was safe from any black-lab research or underhanded moves.  He would have had people to take care of that for him, and whatever code they might employ to communicate the success of such an operation would be hidden beyond the reach of an unstudied glance.  It was very unlikely he would find a way to separate any information of use from the rest of the dross.  However as he was reading it, he came to a realization.  The headache which he'd had since entering Chicago was absent here.  Possibly its elevation separated it from the general misery rampant in the rest of the city.



Machete quit the CEO's office and headed down a level.  The next set of doors opened to a stately lounge.  Here the window's auto-tint was turned up high enough to drown out most of the sun's last dying rays.  The room was dominated by four large chairs, each with a table beside, and a large closed-off section along the back wall.  The Opaque walls and hermetically-sealed door matched what the plans specified for the wine cellar.

[inca1980]

Machete almost hoots over the comm-speak.  "La chingada!!!!  Orale holmes!!  I think we found our wine cellar.  Let's not waste a minute, we're packing this shit up and moving.  Hustle it people!"

[Xzylvador]

"Great! I can't make heads or tails of all these numbers anyway."
Devoted dropped the binder he was reading next to the stacks of others he'd browsed through and walked towards Machete.
"You know... I feel a lot better here than I did downstairs, I might be able to do some heavy lifting with some prayers. Think I should refill my air tank too? Or is that too risky, considering this place never having been wiped clean by that FAB stuff?"

[Crossbow]

Digger stopped on the stairs, not sure if he should return to the upper level or continue down and try to link up with the AI.

"Frag it."

He turned and hustled back up, reaching the room Machete called out from just as the Kid asked his question.

"I would say fill up now or maybe do it there (pointing to the door) if you have room, that tank of yours has to be getting pretty lean."

Digger pulled his gun and got some cover from one of the chairs.

"Okay paco, open her up and let's see if we hit the jackpot or a drekload of pickle sauce."

[inca1980]

Machete, with his shotgun in one hand, opens the hermetically sealed door to see if it's locked. 

[Kontact]

The door opened without any trouble.  Machete marveled a little more at how this man lived in a world where locks are irrelevant since no one would dare steal from him.  While this thought ran through his head, he took in the scene in front of him.  There was a wall of solid bottles on his right sweeping around the room until partway across the back wall, they disappeared only to be found on the floor, emptied out or shattered next to two skeletons, both thankfully human and surprisingly well preserved.  If you had to guess, it looked like both were injured rushing the security checkpoint below and spent considerable time trying to recover in this room... Before they went mad from dehydration and killed each other.  But not before they drank, opened or otherwise ruined about 80 bottles, nearly half of the stock.