"Huw, would you be able to spare me some of your time?"
I break off from repeatedly hitting the Random Article button on Wikipedia, from which I am trying to devour input in a Johnny 5 style.
"I need you to head down to the first floor and get some of the really plush black folders they have down there," the girl I work with instructs me.
"By get," I ask, mindful of how territorial the ladies on the first floor can be, "do you in fact mean steal?"
"If necessary," the girl I work with replies, tight-lippedly, "It is vital that we have those really plush black folders, and I'm leaving it at your discretion to use whichever means you see fit to obtain them."
"Is this a deniable op?" I enquire. If I am going to undertake this operation, I need to know where I stand.
"Yes, once you're on the first floor you're on your own on this; if you get caught we will deny all knowledge of your movements and claim you are acting under your own volition. Perhaps it would be best if you left your ID here too: we want you going in 'clean'."
I accept my mission.
Before setting off, I fire a quick clandestine email off to Soft Paul, detailing the true identity of who it was that near-fatally jammed the photocopier last week, with strict instructions for him to distribute it amongst the company should the girl I work with refuse to come to my aid if I am caught. I have learnt the hard way that there is little honour to be had amongst thieves.
I stealthfully leave my desk, deciding to head downstairs via the fire escape rather than the lift. It seems more appropriate.
5 weeks ago