"Aight, then!" Iris smiled slightly behind her mask - as risky as being caught hacking into surveillance footage would be, the hacking itself would be a lovely warm-up for her brain before she needed it for the pressing deductions that she feared (but also hoped) would be waiting behind the door. She lowered her phone, tapping idly away at it.<br/><br/>It didn't take her too long to break into the system. It was a rather old system of security cameras, probably set up back when the warehouse was just another warehouse. There wasn't much preventing her from worming her way into the feed, nor was there as much risk of her being discovered unless she did something too big or too odd, like replacing the feed with an online video. It took even less time to find the target.<br/><br/>The target was in a room labelled Room 7, at the end of a hallway of similarly-built room. While the rooms leading up to it were secure storage or chemistry labs or guard barracks, this room was simply an office. Small, but in a cozy sort of way, with the proper decorations for an office. Without context, Iris might have mistaken it for the office of an accountant or entrepreneur. The door into it was set in the very center of the wall. The wall to its left was covered from end to end with bookshelves holding dusty literature. Mostly biographies, judging by the titles. The wall to its right, on the other hand, was covered with just as many filing cabinets. Either the target was very organized, or wanted their clients to think that way about them - organized people can be both the most dangerous and most trustworthy, depending on the circumstances. Hanging from the wall opposite of the door was a framed painting. Iris didn't recognize it, but it was a very unusual painting, with what appeared to be a disembodied face and hand in space. With the low camera quality, Iris couldn't tell, but the face and hand were actually made from the bodies of angels. At the very center was an oak desk, stained by coffee and ink, and sitting behind it was the target.<br/><br/>Iris promptly shared the camera feed of Room 7 with Ghost, the image occupying a corner of the assassin's vision and leaving her capable of retaliation if necessary. With a tap, she sent a dummy text to herself before raising the phone to her ear again.<br/><br/>"Aight, I sent you the details. Need anything else, or is that all you wanted for the party? Maybe a game to make things more interesting?"