The Cat Burglar and the Magnetic Personality
The atmosphere in the limousine was as stuffy and boring as usual. Tinted windows, the hum of an empty mini-fridge, and the light but furious tapping of fingers on a touch screen.
The source of this tapping was Pyrrha's agent; a middle aged workaholic with a highly caustic personality. She sat there, on the opposite end of the limousine as Pyrrha, likely making the redhead's personal schedule for the next two months. Probably a bunch of mandatory parties filled with rich jerks and television interviews with famous jerks.
Nothing that wasn't the norm for Pyrrha.
When she'd decided to dedicate herself to pursuing professional fighting full time, she'd thought she be living a life of excitement. She thought that she'd be meeting new people at every fight, making friends all across the world as she travelled from fight to fight.
But instead of the exhilaration that she expected, Pyrrha found herself in a boring cycle of fight and promote and fight and promote. Her agent was recommended to her as one of the best in the business, and those recommendations were not wrong in the slightest. She not only excelled at her job, but she brought it to a whole new level. Pyrrha went from a nobody to the most sought after fighter in a matter of months. Sure, Pyrrha had fun for those first few months, but as the months turned into a year, it started to become tiresome.
It wasn't what she wanted anymore.
What she wanted now-
"Doesn't matter."
The voice of her agent seemingly answered Pyrrha's thoughts. She looked at the woman, but found that she was simply on the phone with someone. The last thing Pyrrha needed was for this woman to suddenly become psychic.
Pyrrha took every opportunity she could to sneak out at night and wander aimlessly throughout whatever city they'd stopped in. She would always wander into shady neighbourhoods and dark alleyways on these walks. Though she pretended to herself that she was lost, she knew deep down that she did this on purpose, in the hopes of getting into some life threatening situation. To be held at gunpoint and robbed, so that she could use her skills to fend off her would be attackers.
Something exciting.
Blake strode as confidently and as rightly placed as someone on their way to steal from a wealthy banker could. This banker had been known to practice some less than ethical business conventions. She'd never considered herself the 'Robin Hood' sort of thief who stole from the rich and gave back to the poor.
Because she certainly didn't give it back to the poor.
Occasionally, she would tell herself that by robbing the wealthy she was serving justice to the poor, as a way of justifying the way she lived her life. Though most of the time, her 'paycheck' was all the justification she needed.
Tonight was no different than any other night. She left her rundown apartment building that sat in the derelict neighbourhood that she called home. To an outsider, her street would put them on high alert if they managed to accidently wander through. The people on the street would put anyone on edge, but to Blake they were just her neighbours. She knew each one of them and each of them knew her. A tight-knit community comprised of society's neglected and forgotten.
And forgotten was exactly what Blake needed to be in her line of work.
Though she may be unremarkable, her work wasn't nearly as forgettable. All it would take was one mistake on her part, and the full might of the city police force would be on her in minutes. Her string of robberies almost had a whole mythos about it, with legends of this 'Master Cat Burgler' screwing hundreds of magnates out of millions of dollars spread by every cop in the city. Any one of these officer would kill for the chance to be the one to take her down.
Blake just hoped it would never come to that.
And there was no reason why it ever would come to that, because she was the utmost professional. As far as thieves go, she was determined to go down as the best of all.
This night's job was a fairly simple one: a low profile banker with minimal security. Likely he thought himself as off Blake's radar, which is exactly what she wanted. Her pattern was to rob a couple billionaires, and then go after ten or so small time guys while their guard is down. Lucky for her, the news outlets only ever cared about the billionaires, so the small robberies rarely got publicized.
Nothing out of the ordinary tonight for Blake: just the usual routine.
At least that was what she'd thought.
The last thing she expected that night was to run into Pyrrha Nikos.
She also didn't anticipate just what kind of effect that chance meeting would have for her.
Pyrrha was finishing up her usual walk into the shadier parts of town, without the slightest hint of anything interesting happening to her. She sighed as she made her way back into the wealthier neighbourhoods, the streets decidedly more quiet and sterile compared to the poorer areas.
However, just before she could deem the night a total bust, she saw her.
That lithe and beautiful girl dressed in black who walked down the street as though she owned. And yet, there was no doubt that she didn't belong there. Her confidence made her stand out rather than let her blend in, at least to Pyrrha it did.
Pyrrha thought about talking to her, but decided against it. The last thing she wanted to do was to scare off the girl, and ruin the only interesting thing she'd seen all night.
So she followed her.
She followed her for several blocks before the girl stopped. She watched her as she pulled out her phone and brought up a map of the area.
Is she lost? Pyrrha thought, before she stated walking to the girl to help her. She hadn't realized what she was doing until it was far too late, and the girl noticed her.
"Hello there," Pyrrha said cheerfully. "Are you lost?"
Pyrrha kicked herself mentally for being too polite. It was her greatest weakness, her constant kindness.
"Oh, no," the girl said, oozing the same misplaced confidence that Pyrrha had noticed earlier. "I was just checking to make sure I had the right address. See, I'm just here to visit- Wait, are... you're Pyrrha Nikos! The fighter!"
"Oh, you recognize me?" Pyrrha asked, trying to not to sound disappointed.
"Of course, it'd be hard to forget girl who looks like you do-"
The girl stopped herself, realizing she'd said a bit too much. Pyrrha laughed, knowing just how easy it is for people to forget that she is actually a real person and not just some idol on television.
"Don't worry," Pyrrha said. "I've had people say much more revealing things without realizing. I start to get used to it after a while."
"Oh," the girl said, sighing in relief. "I couldn't ever imagine getting used to that kind of attention. I'm not exactly a, uh... people person."
"And there's nothing wrong with that; everyone is their own person," Pyrrha laughed. "But let me tell you, after the fifteenth spontaneous marriage proposal, everything else seem fairly tame."
The girl laughed at Pyrrha quip, but stopped herself. It almost seemed like she'd startled herself by being so comfortable.
"I don't think I got you name?" Pyrrha suggested, hoping to keep the conversation going.
"Oh, it's Blake-" the girl tried stopping herself again, far too late. "I'm sorry to bother you Ms. Nikos. I- I should really be going now."
"Oh, okay," Pyrrha sighed. "Actually, do you mind if I join you? It's rather dark, and I hate for you to have to walk alone in the dark."
"No, that's okay," Blake said. "I'm sure I'll be just fine."
"Well," Pyrrha continued. "What about me? You're not going to make me walk home all alone, are you?"
"Something tells me you'd probably be ever safer than me."
"You're probably right," Pyrrha laughed. "That doesn't mean I wouldn't miss the company though."
This is a huge mistake, Blake thought.
She was only one block away from her destination and Pyrrha was still right next to her, chatting away. Sure, she actually did enjoy the company of the red head (maybe a bit more than she wanted to admit), but she had a job to do and it wasn't going to get done with Pyrrha still in tow.
"Look, Pyrrha," Blake started. "It's been really nice talking to you, it really has. And I'd love to get together again sometime..." What are you saying, Blake?! "But I really need to get to work-"
"Work?" Pyrrha asked. "I thought you said you were visiting someone?"
Blake, you're horrible. Just the worst.
"Yeah," Blake paused, trying to come up with an excuse. "I'm actually visiting a friend from work, and we were hoping to get some business done tonight."
Okay, not bad, not bad-
"What's your job, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Oh, I..." Blake mentally hit herself for not coming up with a better excuse. "I'm a, uh... banker."
"Really?" Pyrrha asked. "You don't really look like much of a banker to me."
Good going, telling her you're banker while you're dressed like Catwoman.
"Oh, this?" Blake laughed nervously. "Oh this is just something I threw on as I was leaving my home."
Any other time, you're the most natural liar there is. But no, the moment a pretty girl comes along, and you're as useless as butter.
"Blake," Pyrrha started. "I know what you're doing."
I hear prison is nice this time of the year.
"I'm going to turn you into the police..." Pyrrha continued. "...unless you take me with you."
Well this is new. You're on your own from her, good luck.
"I'm sorry," Blake said, stunned. "Come again?"
"I want to go with you," Pyrrha said, practically begging. "You're going to go rob someone right? I want to help! You've seen me fight, so you know I'm capable of handling myself. The show business of fighting is a lot more boring than you'd think."
"Well, I... uhm..."
"Becoming a professional fighter was always the dream," Pyrrha said. "But if I'd known it would be so boring, I'd have picked another dream to have."
"And you think that thievery is a better dream?" Blake asked, wincing at how harsh she sounded.
"No," Pyrrha sighed. "But it sure seems like I won't be bored doing it. And that's all I can ask for right now."
"What if I say no?"
"Then I call the police."
"Then I'll just run."
"I'll catch you."
"Then I'll fight back-"
Pyrrha raised an eyebrow.
"Point taken," Blake sighed. "I've never worked with a partner before. If we get caught, I won't hesitate to leave you behind."
"I understand," Pyrrha said, nodding confidently. "So then it's a deal?"
"You didn't leave me with much of a choice," Blake said. "So yeah, it's a deal."
"Alright," Blake said. "I've scoped out the place already. The safe we're going to hit is in his basement. I don't know the exact contents, but I'm assuming it's a load of gold."
"Gold?" Pyrrha asked. "In a banker's basement?"
"Last year when there was that big hacking scare, a lot of older people pulled money out of their accounts and turned them to liquid assets. And gold is the one thing that never loses all of its value. They figured that their money would be safer in a locked safe in their own homes than in bank accounts."
"That doesn't seem very smart," Pyrrha said.
"Well, they aren't very smart," Blake said with a laugh. "The safe isn't a problem for me, but the security system in the house is a different story. I recruited some outside help, and planted a virus that I bought from some guy in the system. I trust the guy, and I trust that when I activate the program or whatever it is remotely from my phone that we will have ten minutes to get in and get out."
"That doesn't seem like a very long time," Pyrrha said.
"Maybe for you, but I'm the best. Don't you forget that," Blake said confidently. "Now as for you, I just need you to stay out of trouble. Don't touch anything and try not to disturb anything. Even with the security system down, there will be other secondary alarms not connected to the system that can still go off in the house. Also, chances are they'll be silent alarms, so we won't even get the courtesy of a warning."
"Got it," Pyrrha nodded. "No touching."
"Good," Blake said. "Just follow me, and watch what I do. If you decide that the criminal life is the life for you, then you might just learn something useful tonight. Let's go."
Blake strode silently to the back door of the house. The house was modern looking two story home, with loads of windows and sharp angles. The back patio of the house consisted of a small pool, some lounge chairs, and a big fancy propane grill. All the lights in the house were off, as the owners were out of town.
Blake pulled her phone out of her pocket and set to activating the virus in the security system. Pyrrha's head darted back and forth as she kept a lookout for anyone who might see them. Meanwhile, Blake's focus was on the loading bar on her phone. The bar filled up, and the phone produced a quiet beep noise, signalling that it was safe to open the doors.
Not wasting anytime, Blake turned on the stopwatch on her wrist and made her way into the house. With Pyrrha close behind, the thief made her way to the basement stairs with an amount of practiced accuracy that came from her diligent studying of the floor plans of the building.
Once in the windowless basement, Blake clicked on her flash light. Pyrrha quickly did the same and pointed the light to Blake who was now stood in front of a massive safe built into the wall.
"Can you crack it?" Pyrrha asked. "That's the phrase right? You crack safes, don't you?"
"Yeah," Blake said. "That's the right phrase. And yes, I can crack it. But it'll be harder than I thought. It's a Schnee safe, from the 2007 series. Their best work to date. Even better than the tanks they made back in the 80's. But that's the thing about making a damn good safe: thieves like me just see it as a challenge. It took a lot a practice and a lot of contraband safes, but I've the process down. But it's not the quickest safe to crack, so we'll be cutting it close. Standby, and observe."
Pyrrha watched as Blake spent the next seven minutes doing a large number of things to the safe that Pyrrha couldn't even comprehend. But has confusing as the process was, Pyrrha was absolutely engrossed in watching the thief work. There was certain grace to the way she worked that Pyrrha was enamoured with.
The safe sounded out with a loud click as it came open. Blake turned and looked at Pyrrha, who'd been staring at the thief a little too intently. Pyrrha's cheeked turned the same shade of red as her hair as she turned her attention very deliberately to the contents of the safe.
Sure enough, three kilogram gold bars were sat on a velvet cloth in the safe.
"What did I tell you?" Blake said. "Not as much as I'd hoped, but this is still no small prize. With current prices of gold, this is just about 100,000 dollars. After melting it down and moving it, we should get about 80,000 out of it. Not bad at all."
Blake checked her watch, which said they still had 2 minutes left.
"Okay, we don't have much time," Blake said. "Hold tight while I work on moving the gold out of the safe."
Pyrrha nodded as she moved to get a closer look at the gold. Without thinking, she reached out and ran her finger across one.
"Also," Blake said as she unfolded a bag behind Pyrrha. "Don't touch the gold. This model of safe has weighted sensors that detect the slightest amount a disturbance. So much as breathing too hard on it will set it off."
Pyrrha felt her stomach drop as she realized what she did.
"I have a question," she asked.
"What's your question?"
"What would happen if I set off the sensor?"
"It would trigger a silent alarm."
"I have another question."
"Go ahead."
"About how long until police respond to the alarm?"
"Well," Blake thought. "Since there are consistent patrols in this neighbourhood, and a station only a mile from her... at the soonest it would take sixty seconds for someone to arrive. At the latest it would take two minutes. Why?"
"Blake, I'm sorry..."
"Pyrrha no," Blake said. "You didn't touch it did you?"
"I'm so sorry..."
Blake didn't waste time scolding Pyrrha, as she hastily grabbed the gold from the safe and stuffed into the bag. She slung the bag over her shoulder and grabbed Pyrrha's hand as she ran to the stairs.
Throwing caution to the wind, Blake and Pyrrha ran out the back door of the house, leaving it wide open. Seeing as the back patio ended in very steep hill, they had no choice but to make their escape on the main road.
As they rounded the corner of the house, they were greeted with the sight of a parked police cruiser and two officers with their guns drawn. The officer raised their guns in the direction of Blake and Pyrrha.
Pyrrha was about to turn and run the other way, but she was stopped in her tracks by Blake. The thief put her into a stranglehold, and held her in front of her like a shield. Or a hostage.
"What are you doing," Pyrrha asked, panicking. "Blake why are-"
"There is no escaping this," Blake said. "I'm going to go to prison for a very, very long time. But there is no reason why you need to as well. As of right now, you're my hostage, not my accomplice."
"Blake, you don't have to-"
"I don't have to," Blake said. "But I'm going to. You can thank me some other time. Do people in prison still do the whole 'penpals' thing?"
"I don't know," Pyrrha said. "I've never been."
"Fair enough," Blake laughed. "Well, I fully expect letters from you while I'm in there, got it? After all, you're the one who's putting me there, more or less."
"I will write you twice a week, every week," Pyrrha said. "I promise."
"Oh, and one more thing before I surrender."
"What is it?"
"I don't think you're really cut out for being thief," Blake said. "But I'd love for you to prove me wrong someday."