Sam moved with feline grace, bypasssing a guard who was lighting a cigarette. He didn't kill; he didn't need to. A quick pipe-grab and a silent descent behind a stack of crates put him exactly where he needed to be. He reached the server room, the hum of cooling fans vibrating through his tactical suit.
The heavy monsoon rain drummed against the corrugated metal roof of the Dili embassy, a rhythmic mask for Sam Fisher’s movements. He was a shadow within shadows, the three green dots of his multi-vision goggles the only evidence of his existence in the pitch-black corridor. Soubor: Tom.Clancys.Splinter.Cell.Pandora.Tomor...
As he began the data siphon, the door hissed open. Sam pressed himself into the ceiling corner, legs braced against the walls in a perfect split-jump. Below him, Sadono himself walked in, flanked by two armed militants. The guerrilla leader looked at the terminal, his face illuminated by the pale blue light of the progress bar. Sam moved with feline grace, bypasssing a guard