I slipped my index and middle fingers through slats in the blinds and scissored them open to see out into the dreary world; I squinted past the water bubbles stuck on the outside of the window. The sky was dark, blanketed by thick and heavy clouds painted in wisps and blotches of black and gray, puffing and bulging; lightning lit up the clouds, exposing the threatening belly near-to-bursting with the next water baby waiting to be born. What was that line about spring showers?
Any minute now, I thought. The ground was already drenched to the surface and small pools in the yard looked glassy from where I stood. There was a deep rumbling somewhere behind the clouds. No sense in waiting on the next waterworks terrain-reshaping project about to be underway. Watching storms were nice; being caught out in them was as fun as putting an ice-pick through your own skull.
I released the blinds and glanced at the clock perched on the roll-top in the corner, at the digital red letters glaring at me in the dark room. 4:30 already? I looked at my sister sleeping peacefully on the worn, striped couch and smiled for a second. After a last glance outside, I left the window seat and crossed to the couch.
"Sorry…" I said to the sleeping. I didn't want to wake her but… "Ania," I began, gently shaking her by the shoulder. "Ania," I whispered again. "Ania, it's time to wake up."
She didn't budge.
"Ania… Ania," I said louder. "Wake up. C'mon, time to get up."
Her eyelashes fluttered for a second and I raised my brow expectantly; then, they stopped batting and she made a sound describable as a delicate snore. Great… I shook her harder.
"Nia!" I said louder and yanked the pillow out from under her head. Her red-orange eyes flew open and she stared up at me, startled. I stared back, waiting. After a moment, the wires in her brain buzzed and life clicked behind her glassy gaze.
"What time is it?" she asked groggily.
"It's four thirty," I replied.
"Already?" She pushed herself up with the heels of her palms and yawned. I stood up.
"Yeah. Come on. We have work to do."
She nodded in the middle of another yawn and began stretching.
"Coffee's on the brew," I told her as I went into the kitchen. She groaned and collapsed back onto the couch.
"Coffee..." she droned, zombie-mode in full effect.
I threw the pillow at her and she rolled off the couch with a screech. She glanced up at me peering around the kitchen's archway threshold.
"You… you're not my friend today…" she mumbled. I smiled and disappeared into the room. She tucked the pillow under her head and curled up on the floor.
/
Ania glanced up at the clock. 4:44 quickly turned to 4:45. Her gaze dropped back down to the blueprints spread out on the kitchen table and she took a sip of coffee. She motioned down the length of the map, tracing an invisible line. She stopped and jabbed the spot.
"Here," she said. "The power terminal is here. I'll hack into their network. If you can get around here," she traced another path to the opposite side of the blueprint, "by 5:57, I can throw the power on the alarm. A routine power buzz occurs at 5:57 every night, without fail."
I looked up at her and saw the serious look in her eyes. I narrowed my gaze on her.
"Yeah, yeah. I know, you mapped that thing for, like, weeks."
"Months," she corrected me, tone filled with deadly seriousness. She sipped her coffee again and then went back to her plan.
I pursed my lips; at least she'd gotten rid of the twitch. The rest of the trauma was something only time could iron out.
"You'll have exactly one minute to open the lock and get inside. You've gotta be quick; the alarm usually only flickers with the power, but I'll be shutting it off. It's hard to say if that will peak the nightshift's interest, so I'll have to turn it back on the moment the power flicker ends to kill suspicion."
"Not a problem," I assured her. "A minute is more than enough time." I hoped.
She pointed to another location on the south side of the building I'd be infiltrating.
"This location is right below the office," Ania continued, "where we'll find our prize. As soon as you're in, I'll pack up shop and make my way here for the pick-up."
"Perfect."
"Now… what about you?" she asked. I pulled on a look of surprise, like I wasn't sure what she was talking about. Her blood-bond eye-lasers saw right through me; it was hard hiding from siblings. "The alarm will have been triggered after the drop-off and you'll have all of three minutes before security gets through that door, so what's your plan for escape?"
"Don't worry," I said. "I got it all figured out." I went to the counter and began strapping on my utility belt.
"You're a liar." She followed me. "Chona, you told me you had this figured out weeks ago."
"I do—"
"I see no parachute or hover-down—"
"I told you," I threw my boot onto the counter and tucked a sheath knife into it and tied it to my leg, "I can't carry anything like that if I expect to clunk around unnoticed."
"I know, so what are you going to do?"
"Don't worry about me," I insisted. "I'll be fine. I always am." I backed away from the counter, went back to the blueprints, and picked my gun up off the table. She didn't move.
"You do realize this mission is a little more… dangerous than usual, right?" she asked me.
"I know." I checked my clip and jammed it into the gun.
"These prints aren't official. This corporation is funded by OZ."
"I know," I repeated, yanking back the slide to check the chamber.
"That has to tell you something. We don't know exactly what's in there…"
I set the safety off, holstered the weapon under my left shoulder, and shrugged.
"Yeah, well… I'm feeling lucky tonight," I told her, and then I added a smile for extra charm. She looked ill.
"You're never lucky…" she muttered. I gave up and moved into the living room, yanking a sock hat on my head and tucking my ponytail into it; she was close on my heels. "You repel luck. You're like anti-luck."
I spun on my heel and stared her in the eyes.
"I'll be fine. There's always a way out. I'll find it."
"And if you don't?" she trailed off. I tried to win the staring contest, but she was deadly. I gave up, pulled on my jacket, and crossed to the front door.
"Then we got what we came for." I opened the door. "You know the rules—the mission comes first; everything else is expendable."
Ania stared at me and then let her gaze fall to the floor. She knew the rules and understood them. She had to let it go. It was inevitable.
/
I slipped across the grass that looked black with the clouds over the moon. My boots dug traction into the mud and made a sucking sound with every step I took. I was surprised the rain was stalling, and pretended it was for my sake; it proved I was lucky.
"Four paces to marker seven." I pressed my back to a tree and glanced across the yard to the holly hedge snaking around the side of the building. "Twelve paces to marker eight..." I muttered, counting out the steps to the hedge. I rolled underneath and hit the wall; I waited for silence and then got up, cleaned my shoes off on the pine straw, and then shimmied along the side of the building.
"Alright Chona," Ania's voice came through the earpiece I wore. "Where are you?"
I spent an inch bending around the concrete wall, made note of the double doors, and spun back into cover.
"I'm at the doors," I replied.
I glanced around the corner again and watched the guard stopped at the doors shift his weight from one foot to the other, turn, and walk back down the hall. I slipped from cover, rolled across the bottom of the steps, and flatted my back against the alcove to hide in the shadows. I kept watching the guard until he went around the corner and disappeared. I climbed three steps and tucked myself on the side of the door.
"I'm at the power box," I told her, glancing at my watch. 5:48.
/
Ania looked up from her watch and left her hiding spot in the bushes. She scurried through the shadows to the generator house only a few yards away. There was one guard. She tucked herself against the metal frame and crept around it. He was slouched against the door, half-asleep, and probably bored out of his mind.
Ania prepared a chloroform rag and then looked for a stick on the ground. She found none. How can there be no sticks? she asked herself. Fuck immaculate lawn care. She mentally added another note to her list of lifelong happinesses: mediocre lawn service; you always need at least one stick in the yard.
After a half-minute of searching, she gave up and sacrificed the only expendable object she had on her: her favorite tube of lipstick. She tossed it over his head and shrank back into the darkness when he jumped up and glanced across the yard. His vigilant gaze sought the darkness while she moved in behind him and covered his mouth with the chloroform-soaked cloth.
"Easy," she whispered in his ear, holding fast to his struggling form. After a moment, he stopped fighting and slumped into her arms. She eased him to the ground, pulled him into a sitting position against the generator house, and set to work hacking the keypad.
"Status?" I asked. Ania plugged her scrambler into the keypad and began running numbers.
"Hacking into door number one," she replied. The scrambler had already identified three out of six numbers and was working on the fourth.
"And what'd you find?" I asked. Number five… and number six were confirmed. The door clicked open and Ania went inside and quietly closed the door behind her. The single light flickered on.
"An unsuspecting power terminal," she replied.
"Go easy on it."
Ania ignored the chain-link fence that surrounded the generator units and went straight to the computer terminal at the back of the room. She dropped her backpack, pulled out her laptop, and immediately began setting it up. She checked her watch—5:53—and plugged the computer into the terminal.
"I'm running a tracer program to find a ride into the network," she explained, tickering away at the computer. "I'm getting listings of all access codes."
/
I glanced at the hallway and noted the guard had come back. I kept my back pressed to the wall and remained obscured in shadow. My heart was pounding against my ribcage but I didn't dare take a breath as the guy stopped at the door and scanned the yard.
"I'm in," Ania said into my earpiece. I waited in silence until the guard turned and walked away again. I let out a long sigh and guesstimated I had around six minutes between his rounds.
"How long?" I wanted to know.
/
Ania eyed the computer clock. 5:55.
"I'm taking over their network now," she said and tapped enter. "Okay. Power belongs to me. Get ready," she said, noticing the clock turn 5:56. "Your big moment is coming up."
She followed the coding into the security system configuration program, traced the 0s and 1s to the alarm settings, and prepared an emergency shutdown.
"Get ready to be a ghost," Ania told me, scheduling the shutdown for 5:57.
/
I slipped the portable drill out of my utility belt and crouched next to the keypad.
"And that's a go in five… four… three," she counted, eyes on the stopwatch, "two… one! Go, Chona, go!"
I immediately began rewinding the screws, ignoring the lights flickering inside the building.
"One," I muttered. "Two…" I counted the screws up to four and pulled the cover plate off. I chose the next tool from my belt—a pair of pliers—and secured the trigger. Next, I pulled out cutters and clipped the red wire, shredded the plastic, clipped the white wire, shredded the plastic, and stored the evidence in my utility belt.
"You in yet?" Ania's voice came through my earpiece. "You're approaching the forty-five mark."
I twisted the wires together and heard the lock on the doors click.
"They're open," I said.
/
Ania rebooted the alarm system and readied reactivation.
/
I pulled my pliers off the trigger and screwed the cover plate back on as fast as I could. I shoved my tools back on my belt and slipped inside with a few seconds to spare.
"I'm in," I told her.
/
"And we're back," Ania whispered, reactivating the alarm. She let out a heavy sigh of pent-up tension and shut her computer down. She unplugged it, wound the cords up, and shoved everything back into her satchel that she threw over her shoulder.
She slipped out of the generator house, confirmed it was locked, and ducked back into the shadows.
"Making my way to the drop-off point."
/
I sprinted down the hall following the path I had memorized from the blueprint and was more than relieved when I ducked into the elevator alcove and noticed the guard trot around to the back door. I called the elevator and peered around the corner again.
The guard shuffled there for a moment, like he'd done before, and then turned around. I ducked behind the wall and took deep breaths. I heard the clicking of his shoes on the tiled floor as he drew nearer and then turned.
The elevator binged when it reached my floor. I ducked inside and took it up four floors. Floor five and six required a special key to access, so I took the stairs up two more flights to level six.
It was quiet and dark when I exited the stairwell. I kept my eyes open and my ears alert. The floors were carpeted and it would be harder to hear shoes on them.
I moved down the corridor to the right, ever cautious. I kept going the way I'd learned until an unfortunate event put a stop in my momentum.
A t-section not on the blueprints.
I moved my head from one side to the next. Left… or right? I asked myself. The familiar pat-patting of boots on carpet caused my heart to nearly leap into my throat. There was a door on my left so I took it and ducked inside a small office.
I slumped against the door and dropped into a crouch. I could hear the footsteps get louder and louder until they were right on the other side of the wooden portal.
"Fuck…" I pressed my palm to my forehead and sighed when his footsteps carried on. I was so relieved, I thought I might pee my flak pants.
"What?" Ania asked. I slowly got to my feet and peered out of the door. The coast was clear.
"I'm lost," I explained.
"You're what?" she exclaimed.
"There's a junction not on those prints."
"Uhm," she muttered. I couldn't hear her chewing on her lip but I knew that's what she was doing. "When in doubt…"
"Take another left," I finished her thought, and left the office. I followed the wall around to the left and picked up the route drawn on my mental map. It wasn't long before I came to an ornate set of double doors trimmed in gold that formed a giant OZ emblem when they were closed, as they were now. I sprinted down the hallway and used the friction of my boot on the carpet to pull a quick-stop at the keypad next to the doors.
I pulled the scrambler from my utility belt and hooked it into the terminal. Waiting was near unbearable. 7, 4, 9, 2, 8, 1. The doors clicked open and I went through.
"I'm in," I announced.
/
"Good," Ania said as she wound around the building. "I'm not far. Get that safe open."
/
My first task, actually, was to secure the door. I used the terminal inside to jam the lock and then I disabled the panel. Now, there was no easy way in or out.
The office was styled with a classic taste—rich, red carpet, pearl-white walls, mahogany crown and base molding, and a gold chandelier. The safe sat on a chestnut table outlined in black marble with gold trimmings; all the other furniture, including the giant desk center-pieced against the floor-to-ceiling window wall, was part of the matching set.
My fingers brushed the green surface of the safe and stopped at the black and silver lock. It was an old and traditional lock, easy to crack and easier to rig. They could be opened in one of two ways: with the control mechanism given to the owner or the old fashioned way—turning the dial and hoping you didn't slip up and surrender your mishap to one fatal boom.
That was the advantage over the near-universal replacements of keypads or retinal scans; it couldn't be defeated by technology and was sensitive to the stupid.
"Our intel was right," I said. "It's an oldie."
/
Ania cursed under her breath and she aligned herself six stories below the glass window of the office she knew I was in.
"So much for your luck," she muttered.
"I know," I replied. "I was doing so well, too. Do you have the freefall ready?" I asked as my sister planted the small, metal box on the ground. She pushed a button on the top of it to arm it and stepped back, trigger in hand.
"Ready," she confirmed and crossed her fingers.
/
"Good," I said, kneeling at the safe. I took a deep breath, held it for a three count, and exhaled. I'd found my zen place. I reached for the dial.
"Good luck," Ania screeched over the earpiece. I twitched.
"Thanks," I mumbled. I did my breathing thing again, snuggled back into my zen place, and took hold of the dial. "Nine right…" I set the dial to 9 and licked my lips. "Twenty-six left." I spun the dial twice and stopped at twenty-six. "And forty-five right." One spin, two spins, three spins…
And the dial stopped at forty-four.
/
Ania stared up at the window, heart thumping and lungs inflated with a held breath. She vibrated her crossed fingers, nearly pushing herself onto her tippy-toes.
/
There was no explosion. My fumble had saved the day.
"Chona… Chona… What happened? Is it open? What's going on?"
I moved my mouth but words didn't come out, so I kept practicing the motion until my vocal chords were able to vibrate again.
"I—I—I don't know. I—I… I dialed the wrong digit but… somehow it was the right one."
/
In spite of the situation having been won in our favor, Ania felt the poison of adrenaline shoot into her bloodstream as panic overwhelmed her. It was a delayed reaction considering the danger had passed, but she felt entirely justified if she happened to freak the fuck out on the corporate lawn.
"Oh my God," she hissed. "Oh my God. Oh my God!"
"He heard you the first time."
"I can't believe you, you lucky son of a bitch!"
"I told you…" I muttered and grinned. "Just call me Lucky fuckin' Charms and follow the rainbow flying out my ass."
/
I popped the lock off and opened the safe. A cloud of steam puffed in my face then cleared as the air pressure released. I reached inside and withdrew the small chip, dropped it into a small box I'd brought in on my utility belt, and went to the window. I couldn't see her down there, but I knew my sister was waiting. The last item I carried on my belt was a small detonation device. I stuck it to the window, set a twenty second timer, and ducked behind the oak desk.
"Explosion's set," I said. "Clear the window."
/
Ania shuffled away from the building and hid in a row of trees. She could hear the faint sound of beeping in the background as the timer slowly slid down to zero. There was a flash of light in the clouds, a threatening rumble in the sky, and then…
Boom!
The glass shattered and rained down to the ground in glittering spikes. An alarm immediately began wailing. Ania rushed over to the window and stared up as I came into view.
"Special delivery," I sang and dropped the box. Ania punched the trigger and the metal box on the ground exploded into a dark green jelly that cushioned the box's fall. It sank to the ground and Ania fished it out of the goop.
Mission accomplished.
She gazed up at me and waited, unable to tear herself away. There's no escape plan, is there, Chona? she thought. Of course there wasn't.