James Stone rounded the corner of Kinetech’s main building, took a final pull on his cigarette and butted it out. He looked up at the moon and sighed. These perimeter checks were a matter of pride for him, but some days they reminded him of his old job. He stretched his legs briefly and went to his office to review the cameras. He didn’t want to miss anything.
There were ten of them covering the main corridors of the complex’s buildings. He clicked on the monitor to the right of the desk; it was hooked up to a hard drive that recorded the video feeds. He leaned back in his chair to view the footage.
About ten minutes into it, there was a discrepancy. He rewound the feed and watched it again. Something didn’t look right. He turned to the monitor bank and brought up camera four in building eight.
Incredible. Someone was actually pulling the "still photo in front of the surveillance camera" trick. A stunt so old, so simple, it might have worked. But not tonight.
He switched to camera five, watching with a sense of pride as the kennel doors rose smoothly on their automated tracks to release the blood-crazed Dobermans. Then he scrawled a note to the cleaning crew to wear hazmat suits when they entered building eight, and went for another cigarette break.
Continuation: J.E. Barnard