Night 57: West Wing, South Hall 2-B
[from here]
As they made a left into the next hallway, Niikura thought back to the map of the Institute that he'd committed to memory. The hall they were looking for, the one that would hopefully take them to where Mike was being held- it was somewhere on his left. The problem was that this hall was huge, and he didn't even know how many doors he'd find. Two or three...his memory was kind of foggy on that one.
Taking a wild stab in the dark (literally, in some ways), he turned aside at the first door that his flashlight illuminated. Maybe it was already open; that would make things so much easier--nope, locked.
Niikura growled under his breath as he inspected for the lock. It looked weak; it could probably be broken if he hit it with enough force. For a moment, he entertained the idea of smashing it with his flashlight. That would probably do it, but his flashlight was still his most powerful weapon, as strange as it was to admit that, and it had already taken a beating from that one particular bat-filled night. If it broke (and it probably would), he'd be down a weapon and a light: not ideal at all.
With a sigh, he pulled one of the pens from his pocket and popped the cap off before squatting down so that his eyes were level with the lock and holding the flashlight in between his knees. He could pick it...maybe. He'd never picked a lock with a pen cap before, but theoretically, it could work.
As they made a left into the next hallway, Niikura thought back to the map of the Institute that he'd committed to memory. The hall they were looking for, the one that would hopefully take them to where Mike was being held- it was somewhere on his left. The problem was that this hall was huge, and he didn't even know how many doors he'd find. Two or three...his memory was kind of foggy on that one.
Taking a wild stab in the dark (literally, in some ways), he turned aside at the first door that his flashlight illuminated. Maybe it was already open; that would make things so much easier--nope, locked.
Niikura growled under his breath as he inspected for the lock. It looked weak; it could probably be broken if he hit it with enough force. For a moment, he entertained the idea of smashing it with his flashlight. That would probably do it, but his flashlight was still his most powerful weapon, as strange as it was to admit that, and it had already taken a beating from that one particular bat-filled night. If it broke (and it probably would), he'd be down a weapon and a light: not ideal at all.
With a sigh, he pulled one of the pens from his pocket and popped the cap off before squatting down so that his eyes were level with the lock and holding the flashlight in between his knees. He could pick it...maybe. He'd never picked a lock with a pen cap before, but theoretically, it could work.