This scene follows on from Encounter: the Falling Man. It is the same night so pools and will power will not refresh.
They stood before a rambling, squat, building of wood that reeked of tar and tea, pine and smoke. The building that Constantin Polikarpov maintained as a base appeared to be both store and warehouse, obviously older that the street around it. The dark wood of the exterior seemed to blend with the shadows, making the light from the gas lamps weak by comparison. San Francisco had remained thankfully quiescent on their journey across town - sounds drifted across the urban landscape but they thankfully met no other soul. It was as if the city was reflecting, taking stock in preparation for some new activity. As luck would have it, there were a few dim lights glinting from within the gated structure.
The mysterious shape shifting woman has given the group no trouble: she remains unconscious and inert, breathing quiet and shallow; she doesn't even moan or whimper.
Now that the half hazard coterie has reached its destination, the only choice that remains is whether to hammer on the heavy gate, the iron bound door with the big lock, or the shut-up shop.
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Perception failed
