for the three Ps
They might have been momentarily too stunned to speak by Peter's secret double life, but if they kept getting distracted by the shit their classmate got up to they would never accomplish anything.
And so commenced Phase 2 of the plan. Phase 1 was the journey to the building and making it through security. Sally had no idea why those two weren’t separate phases, but it didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things.
Phase 2 revolved around the three P’s: Pester, Poke Around and Pickpocket (yes, she was very proud of the alliteration she had come up with).
Pester: A nudge to Betty and a subtle nod towards the extremely harried, stressed beyond-belief Legal Team. Betty took the hint and went to do what she did best, snoop and pry and ask as many invasive questions as possible to incite mental breakdowns. This skill, highly coveted and feared, was the Brant Special, passed down to Betty from her Aunt, the most vicious reporter in North America. Eloise ‘The Vulture’ Brant (no, not that knock-off villain Vulture) was revered and dreaded in equal measures, and Betty was hoping to outshine her one day.
At the same time, Abe and Flash got into a loud row. They gesticulated wildly, screaming and shouting at each other about an imaginary girlfriend that Flash had supposedly stolen from Abe. This drew everyone’s attention.
Sally took a deep breath. Here was where she came in.
Already at the outskirts of the group, she snuck away into a bare cubicle. God, she really hoped this worked.
A quick glance to the ceiling, to the all-knowing entity that ruled these lands.
“Uhm. Miss FRIDAY?”
“Yes, Ms. Avril?”
“If, hypothetically, one wanted to sow some harmless chaos and teach someone a lesson, but there was an all-seeing AI that reported to them, how would one go about it?”
A pause. She held her breath.
“It would depend on what kind of chaos the hypothetical individual had in mind, the fallout of such chaos, and the lesson being taught. Of course, if the hypothetical individual posed no threat to the well-being of the AI’s creator or to the residents of the AI’s home, the AI could be persuaded with an overview of the individual’s plans.”
God bless AI’s with a penchant for mischief.
They’d already discussed this, and Peter had brought up this exact situation and how to deal with it. From her pocket, she withdrew a step-by-step explanation of their plan, complete with contingencies and emergency procedures. She placed it on the desk face up, waiting for less than five seconds before stuffing it back hastily into her pocket.
FRIDAY spoke up, “After carefully reviewing the hypothetical plans of the hypothetical individuals, I would say that if a hypothetical AI saw them, she would not report them unless directly asked.”
Was that a hint of mirth in her voice? Holy shit! They were going to get away with this!
Now, here started her real job. Phase 2, subsection B. Poke Around.
Slipping in between cubicles, she looked around for vacant ones. Preferably those with papers still on the desks or desktops unlocked, because according to Peter, the employees usually had their lunch break around this time. She was wearing her best Business ClothesTM to blend in better, and it seemed to be working. No one had given her a second glance.
Patent, lawsuit, patent, patent, accident due to chemicals, patent, lawsuit, lawsuit, patent.
Ugh. She needed something drastic, something scandalous.
Something that would shake the world.
She was internally despairing when a soft voice behind her piped up “On your left!”
Shit!
Her heart spiked as she whirled around.
What the fuck? She thought she had been caught! But there was no one behind her, just empty air.
“Sorry, I’ve been watching these guys for a while, I’ve always wanted to say that. Nice to meet you!”
Oh okay, a disembodied voice. This was all totally fine, and she totally didn’t hear an invisible person, Was some supervillain bored enough to talk to a high-schooler? Was Stark Tower just haunted? Was she going to get murdered brutally after doing the bidding of an evil overlord? Mind-controlled? Possessed?
“Nice to meet you too, Mr…?”
“Oh, I’m no mister, but call me Jude!”
“Hello Jude. Um, who are you? And why are you following me?”
“I guess you could call me a mutant. I just like watching the Avengers, and the MCU in general.”
“MCU?”
“Oh fuck. Forget I said that. Anyways, on the desk on your left, there’s some pretty scandalous stuff. The password is 4538813. No idea why, but I don’t really care.”
“Thanks..?”
“You’re welcome! Now I gotta go, but sow some chaos for me, savvy?”
“Savvy..?”
“Great, it was nice to meet you!”
There was a sudden change in the air, like it had just gotten a little lighter and fresher. Well, that was fucking weird. Hey, at least she didn’t get murdered! Yay!
She looked down at the desk Jude had indicated. Should she? She had come here to snoop, and it would be a waste not to see what secrets Stark Industries held. Jude had so nicely given her password too!
Dammit, she was going to listen to the mysterious voice in the air, wasn’t she?
4-5-3-8-8-1-3. God bless Acadec memorization skills. The computer turned on to the last thing opened.
Jackpot.
Huh.
Oh. Oh wow. This shit was wild. Apparently, Stark Industries was paying a lot of hush money to fake the death of Georgia Lavette, the up-and-rising movie star and politician. Sally remembered her. That woman had been absolutely horrible with her blatant homophobia, sexism, and refusal to believe Global Warming existed. An absolute menace to society, and not in a fun way. Still, to fake her death?
Fucking hell.
Shit, her time was running out. She took some quick pictures of the papers and put them back exactly as she had found them. Then, she quietly locked the computer, took a deep breath and walked out, striding smoothly in the aisles. Chin up, shoulders back, Sally walked like she belonged there and dared anyone to contradict her.
She made it to safety, slipping back into the group like she had never left at all. A nod to MJ to let her know she’d been successful. Phew, she was done.
That had been nerve-wracking.
The next phase was out of her hands, and had hopefully already taken place. Phase 2, subsection C. Pickpocket.
Betty had suggested they pickpocket employees and switch their badges around, because nobody really peered at their own badge all that much. FRIDAY agreeing to it had been the biggest hurdle, but surprisingly she was pretty chill with anyone except Peter.
Ned had hyped Peter up on his apparently legendary pickpocketing skills, which what? Why did they even know that? Anyways, Peter had been super reluctant about it all, till Flash had scoffed that Penis Parker couldn’t possibly do it. Of course, faced with a challenge like that, there was no way Peter would ever say no. And lo and behold, he had given them a demonstration right there! He had them all walk through a crowded corridor with random pieces of cardboard of roughly-badge size. Ten minutes later, they had all emptied out their pockets.
And damn, not a single one of them had noticed him pickpocketing them or replacing the goods. But every single one of the cardboard pieces had been replaced.
Peter had just winked.
He had said, and she quotes him directly, “In some circles, they call me Sticky Fingers.”
Which, what the fuck Peter?