He thought he heard the rattling of spoons. What was that? It was night, so he couldn't be sure. It could just be the neighbor. No, not spoons he realized…something else. Something bigger than that. The door…it was the sound of something outside the door. Suddenly, before he could react, a loud bang, along with the screeching of metal filled the air. He leaned down and covered his ears, crying out in pain. He sees a dark figure lung toward him. He grunts and falls to the ground, his eyes rolling back in his head.
The figure gives the body a light kick before giving a nod of satisfaction. The Figure leaves, not affected by what it has just done or the smell of blood in the air. One down, one more to go.
The next day…
The figure is back. They are wearing the same black, long sleeve top and black pants that they were wearing the night before. It move along, past the hanger they took last night. The smell of blood is gone. The air smells fresh and clean. The owner is gone currently, but the figure doesn't care. The Figure moves slowly yet confidently. The Figure kicks the door and the walls, but is surprised to discover they are reinforced. The Figure will have to break in a different way. The roof…The Figure manages to scale the wall and land on the roof. The Figure notices an air duct, which they swiftly walk over to. Using sheer force, they get the metal grate loose. The Figure doesn't like the rough feeling of the metal against its hands, it's rusty. The Figure practices removing the metal grate until they can do it quickly and with no sound. Now…they are ready. The heist will go down in two day.
Two days later, at night…
Bill is about to leave, but he hears something. He has his silver motorcycle pants and jacket on. He is holding his helmet in his hands. He things the noise sounds like the rattling of spoons. He knows better, however. He would know if someone else was inside the hanger. He would have felt the cool night air. Then, he hears the unmistakable banging of the door. Cautiously, he walks over to it. Who could it be? Should he make his presence known? He can smell the oil from the plane as he tries to make his decision. He moves toward the door slowly, trying not to scrape his heels on the smooth concrete floor.
"Who's there?" He calls.
"Someone's about to break into your hanger. I can help you! I can't explain who I am now. Open up!" A male voice says. Bill hesitates, then opens the door a crack.
"Who are you?" he asks. Bill examines Michel. Michel is wearing a navy blue colored T-shirt and denim jeans. He has red tinted glasses on, even though it's night.
"My name is Michel Weston. I'm here to help you." He says again.
"How do you know…" Bill starts
"There's no time for questions, just…" Michel's cut off by the sound of an engine.
"They're here! We have to get out of here. Now!" Michel exclaims, looking over his shoulder. "Is there a back way out of here?" He asks.
"Yeah." Bill starts to move toward the back of the hanger.
To be continued...