Moone walked up to the Pentagram, to front entry doors of Tetragrammaton headquarters, the same ones he had escaped through [number] days ago, this time wearing the full Mothman suit. Escaping then, but now walking back through. The same doors. So much had changed since then, and Moone was surprised at how familiar the place still seemed, at how little things had changed. It was like a feeling of deja vu, only of course Moone had actually already seen it. In reality, countless times. And in his recent dreams, countless more.
Moone braced himself, and pushed on through.
It was as Keepses had said: coming through, they checked his identity against the NOC to allow him access. The Necronomicon. Necron-Omi-Con, or NOC. Book of the names of the dead, when split Necro-Nom-Icon. In this case, "the dead" signified those undercover; the NOC list had the codenames and true identities of every single agent in the field, including the Mothman's and his entire cell. It was rare that such a valuable tome would be out in the open, but the increased security around [nullified the risk.]
There were warding plants, crystals and dreams catchers hung around like Mistletoe on Christmas; secured portals set up on one of the floors to prevent anyone from tailing people as they left once the summit was finished. The place was also swarming with security guards. Non-supernatural security guards. Of course. It was something of a [risk to secrecy,] hiring those to come on like that, but the threat [they were up against,] Finnegan Michael Moone, warranted such extreme measures.
And here Moone had just walked on in. People were being filed into lines. [more details- research how spy summits would work in real life, if they'd even exist.]
It took Moone some time to find his bearings. He started with learning about how things had changed at the Pentagram since his leave, and how this summit would continue to change things. All damage from the attack of a few weeks ago had been repaired with supernatural speed. It seemed that Smith, the same eldritch entity who had [hired] Moone in the first place those five years ago, was the new Secretary of the department, in the wake of the old, human, Secretary's passing.
There wasn't just an assassination, but a terrorist bombing. Moone seized up a bit when the thought occurred to him that maybe, with the idea that the attack was to necessitate the summit, now it was the whole building in danger, agents and officers across multiple agencies, before he realized that it couldn't have been it. It hadn't been a terrorist bombing. There had been bombs planted, true, one of them against a load-bearing pillar, so bringing down the Pentagram was a goal, but it couldn't have been a true act of terrorism; as far as Moone knew he had been the only one injured in any of the bombings, so casualty wasn't a goal as much as destabilizing the building itself.
And what would happen then? They would rebuild, put up new walls. Perhaps with crawlspaces in, not big ones but perfectly sized for a mongoose, so that Gef would be able to slip around the building more easily, and undetected. And maybe he'd be able to perform more mischief that way, or... or spy. Spy on the spies, collect for himself, in one location, all the compartmentalized information. He'd have the most knowledge, and therefore the most power. The lack of casualties also made sense, because if anyone had actually died, that would have been one fewer person on which to spy.
Except the Secretary. The Secretary died. And Cloud died, and Moone and the Pontifex escaped, as well, but the Secretary's death specifically bothered Moone. One or the other would have been enough were the organization of the summit the entire goal, but the summit and the crawlspace theory didn't fit together. It was like two arbitrary holiday traditions, that didn't mesh; mistletoe and stockings at Christmas, dyed powder and bonfires on Holi.
Unless the crawlspaces could allow Gef access to certain places at the summit he wouldn't otherwise be able to go. There wouldn't be any secrets discussed at the summit, no confidential or sensitive information being shared. So many agents and officers here, coming from all over, but there were the portals, once again, that had been set up, on floor seven. Their arrivals would be anonymous, of course, but all verified through...
Through the NecronOmiCon. If Gef got his paws on the NOC list, he'd be able to match the code names with the true identities of every agent out in the field, of at least two agencies. There'd be no limit to the power he'd have then.
It was as Keepses had speculated, before suspecting Moone himself: the attacks had indeed made the summit inevitable, but Keepses had speculated them to be retaliation against the loss of funding for Tetragrammaton. But the summit itself was just another step toward the actual goal, and not the destination itself. The actual goal- Gef's actual goal- was to lay hold of the NOC list.
Moone wasn't about to let that happen. Just like Keepses wasn't about to let Moone attend the summit in the first place. Keepses had failed in preventing Moone from getting to the summit, of course, but Moone had the upper hand, then. As well as this time.
[and I guess I'm stopping halfway through this time, too; the weekend starts tomorrow and I'm sure I'll be able to catch up the, shoot, I think it'd be two and a half days' worth of writing necessary? The day's writing itself, and the second half of today's, and then making up for the day lost in only covering section 8 today when I should also have started on section 9. That's about 4,167 words. let's do it.] [this is a lot easier if you stay on top of it.] [it actually shouldn't be that difficult, because there's pretty action-packed stuff coming up, which usually I'm bad at but I've got this action scene pretty meticulously outlined.]
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