Pete Wisdom strode into the headquaters of the Inner Party and nearly knocked over several different Party members as he made a beeline to the directory. If Airstrip Three was anything like Airstrip One, then the directory was hopelessly out of date, but it would still be a useful guide to getting around the building and finding the people he wanted.
A cigarette, his only luxury, stil smoldered in his fingers. He took a deep drag, blew it out in the face of the nearest Outer Party member, relishing the member's forced nod of politness even as Pete was assaulting him. Here in these offices, even dressed as raggedy as he was, most assumed he was a member of the Inner Party, someone not to be trifled with. That was one of Pete's greatest assests; he was able to blend in nearly everywhere.
However, as he glanced around, he noticed a few intensly hateful looks glaring into him from some well dressed people who were obviously real Inner Party members. He grimaced at them, and began to scan the crowd for some people to question.