Clambering up with fluid, nimble ease, I made fast work of my ascent. Beads of sweat were only just appearing on my brow when I reached the assigned floor. Piece of cake. I tightened my grip with my left hand, using my right to reach behind and unclip the glass breaker that was hooked to my belt.
It was a nifty piece of kit, designed to help trapped motorists break out of their cars. While I’d never heard of anyone actually using one to save their own life, I found mine particularly useful. It was a gift from Taylor when I graduated from simple manipulation tactics and dull look-out posts to full-blown thief. The others might scoff at its hot pink colour but I’d had it for seven lucky years and it had never let me down. I might wear black to stay camouflaged against the night sky but that didn’t mean that everything I carried had to be boring monochrome too.
Leaning back as far as I could, I swung it into the centre of the pane of tinted glass, shattering it instantly. Thanks both to the glass breaker’s and the window’s design, all the shards of glass fell inwards just as I wanted.
Flashing a satisfied smile to my inner thief, I heaved myself inside with a leap, landing far enough in to avoid catching my skin on any of the dangerous broken pieces. I pivoted round and grinned, curtseying at the now-gaping hole. Then I checked my watch. Less than ninety seconds from pavement to entry. That was impressive, even for me.
Without wasting another minute, I unclipped my harness and tested the nearby wall. The plaster seemed sound enough so I pulled out my tiny drill, made a hole in the wall and carefully inserted the climbing wire. I gave it an experimental tug; it would hold. Less than thirty seconds later, I was lowering the rope out of the window and whistling down softly.
Three dark shadows broke away from different corners of the street. As the rope grew taut with the weight of the first climber, I surveyed my surroundings. Taylor had insisted that this floor would be the easiest one for entry. Looking around at the low-spec furniture, I was inclined to agree. The employees on this level were clearly not the wealthy bankers who occupied other areas of this building and were universally despised by the rest of the world. The guys who worked here looked like they filled their days with dull data entry whilst suffering zero-hour contracts.
I wrinkled my nose and made my way along the narrow aisle between the cubicles until I reached the office, which was separated by walls rather than flimsy partitions. Frankly, it was a wonder that more people didn’t turn to a life of crime. Working here would drive me insane.
Inside the manager’s office was a heavy walnut desk and swivel chair. It looked considerably more comfortable than the chairs out front. I sat down experimentally and swung myself around. Yup - it was pretty damn fine. I examined the collection of family photos of beaming children and heavily lipsticked trophy wife; I resisted the temptation to find a Sharpie and draw a moustache on them.
The frame was marked with the Macfie Clan colours. Typical. I bet Mr Manager here had aligned himself with them, whereas his minions in the larger room outside remained Clan-less. The Macfies were always into bloody banking. If they’d chosen a different path, we wouldn’t be targeting them so bloody often. I shrugged. Their fault.
I helped myself to several boiled sweets from a crystal jar, raised my legs up, crossing my feet on the desktop, and waited.
The crunch of glass signalled Speck’s arrival. He hated heights so he had to be forced to go up the ropes first. If the warlock was left until last, he’d never pluck up the courage to clip on his carabineer. We’d learned that the hard way a couple of years ago and lost out on a fat purse as a result. I had tried coaching him through his fear but nothing seemed to work ? other than a swift kick up his arse. With Lexie following on his tail, of course, that wasn’t a problem.
Speck appeared in the doorway, cursing. ‘We didn’t have to climb. I could have bypassed the front door in less time than it took to get up here.’
‘Relax.’ I gestured towards the sweets. ‘Have some sugar and calm down. You know this was the sensible option.’
He grumbled at me, reaching out for the jar with a trembling hand. I knew better than to comment. His terror would subside by the time Brochan, the last of our motley crew, joined us. To point out that Speck was shaking like a leaf served no purpose. He could be rather sensitive, even at the best of times.
While he crumpled up the sweet wrapper into a ball and tossed it carelessly onto the floor, I opened up a drawer and peered inside. Lying on top of several heavily perfumed envelopes was an ornate letter opener. I lifted it out. It was an expensive tool, especially in today’s digital age. Made entirely from silver and with a perfectly balanced blade, it seemed a travesty to leave it where it was. I regarded it seriously for a moment then slid into one of my many zippered pockets. It would make a nice souvenir.