A few days had passed since Richard agreed to take on this job. He still wasn't a hundred percent positive how he felt about his upcoming thievery, but he was sure that he wanted IYA to suffer and because of that, he tucked his lingering doubts and questions away. Over the span of those few days, he met with Vladimir again to go over the basics. He wasn't fond of the man, but he wanted to hear it all again. He spent a few hours with Vladimir and they didn't ease his doubts. It seemed the longer he sat with him, the more something seemed… off. Richard couldn't place his finger on what it was, but like his doubts, he pushed it aside and hoped everything would play out.

After their meeting, Richard began the walk back to his apartment above McRory's bar. It wasn't a long commute, but the cold and bitterness of the air caused his teeth to chatter involuntarily. Instinctively, Richard crossed his arms over his chest, rubbing his hands up and down his arms in an attempt to gather some warmth. Another 10 minutes passed before he reached his destination and was forced to unwillingly unhook his arms to take the keys out of his pocket.

Richard stepped inside and took a few steps before turning around to lock the door behind him. After a short pause, he walked behind the bar and reached for a small glass. Should I? He was trying to cut back on the drinking, he really was. He just didn't always follow through, that's all. Finally deciding against it, Richard put the glass back in its place and started up the stairs to his apartment.

Once upstairs, Richard kicked his shoes off into the corner. He walked a few more steps before discarding his coat and throwing it across the back of the couch. He stood back and took a good look at his surroundings, something he hadn't done in a while. His apartment seemed to mirror himself lately, he noticed. Hollow. It had nice furniture and a few knickknacks here and there, but it was far from being personalized. There was no depth. The walls were an unoriginal off-white color with a rare picture frame every so many feet and the curtains were a pale blue. The essentials were all there; a stove, a fridge, a television, a couch, a few chairs, but not much else. And considering it was a somewhat large apartment, that was odd. It wasn't always like this, he remembered. At one point, there were pictures covering these same walls. There were toys and coloring books thrown throughout the rooms. Small clothes painted the floors and all of the furniture. There were hand drawn masterpieces hung proudly on the fridge. The day she died was the day all of that changed. He couldn't bring himself to look at those reminders of what was every single day. So he took them all down. He put them away. The only thing he hadn't touched or changed in any way was her room.

The distant sound of a siren outside broke him out of his daze. "Dammit," he muttered under his breath.

He took another second before making his way to his bedroom. He flipped the light on and rummaged through his dresser to find a shirt and a pair of boxers to change into.

After he changed, he sat down on the edge of his bed and placed his head into his hands. He stayed like that for a few minutes before he picked his head back up and looking into the mirror to his left at the face staring back at him. His eyes had black circles beneath them, his face looked somewhat sunken in, and he was pale. He sighed. He hated nights like these.

Something caught his eye, sitting on the corner of the night stand beside him. He let the ends lips curve slightly upward as he picked it up. A photograph of a smiling little girl, about 5 at the time, with flaming red hair.

It'll be worth it, Richard thought while he repositioned himself, his back now pressed firmly against the backboard.

"It's all for you, baby girl," he whispered down to the picture in his hand before setting it back on the stand and turning off the light.

…

It was Friday night, the night of the heist. Everything was set up in a large room inside the office building across from the one they would be retrieving the designs from. There was a high tech digital screen set up against one of the walls that splayed out a map of the other building.

Richard was perched in this room with his ear buds in while the rest of the team – if you'd even call it that – was on top of the IYA building readying themselves for the task.

"I don't want any surprises now," Richard spoke into the com, fully aware that the only person on the other side with their ear piece in was Ryan. Kevin Ryan was brilliant at what he did – hacking. He was the hacker extraordinaire, you could say. When he was seventeen, he used his skills to reserve the executive suite at a high end hotel as Mick Jagger. When the staff finally realized Mick Jagger was in fact not there, they opened the suite to find him in the room being fawned over by women in bikinis.

He heard an amused laugh on the other end. "I've been doing this since high school, bro, I'm captain discipline." Right.

Ryan turned to the man behind him and handed over an ear bud. "It's a bone conduction ear piece mic, it works off the vibrations in your jaw."

The tall, brawny man, Javier Esposito, took the bud from his hands and brought it up to his ear.

"You can hear everything," Ryan whispered. The ear piece picked it up loud and clear, further proving his statement.

"You're not as useless as you look," Javier replied dryly, earning a sideways look from Ryan.

Ryan turned back around before muttering, "I don't even know what you do."

Javier grinned, remembering that time in Leskovac, Serbia when he took out 12 armed men and left without a scratch. Good times.

A third person suddenly made an appearance, hanging upside down from a set of bars above their heads. Jennifer.

"Can I have one?" she asked, referring to the box of coms Ryan was currently holding in his hands.

He held the box up to her, smiling, "You can have the whole thing."

Jennifer smiled, taking one from the box before retreating back on top of the bars. Once she was out of hearing range, Javier laughed.

"What is she going to say when she finds out you live with your mother?"

Ryan just grinned and tucked the small box back into his jacket pocket, "Age of the geek, baby."

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that," Javier replied before walking away.

…

Everyone was now on the other side of the roof, still a safe distance from the edge. Jennifer was setting up her rig, playing with the wires until they were just right. She was already harnessed in and began to adjust the hat on her head.

"Is this thing safe?" Javier questioned, holding out the ear piece out in front of him.

Ryan had his back towards him, but by the way Javier's voice sounded, he knew what he was inquiring about. "Oh, it's completely safe. You know, if you experience nausea, weakness in your right side, stroke, strokeyness…"

Javier turned back towards Ryan in the middle of securing his ear bud, a disapproving look plastered on his hard face. "You're exactly why I work alone."

"Guys!" Richard's voice popped back up into their ears, "We're gonna go on my count, not a second sooner. Jennifer, no freelancing."

"Relax, we know what we're doing," Javier uttered, somewhat annoyed by Richard's obvious distrust.

"On the count of five. Five, four-"

Before Richard could finish his count, Jennifer was already running full speed behind Ryan and Javier towards the edge.

Javier noticed and sighed, "She's gone."

"Son of a bitch," Richard cursed, pressing his hands against the glass window that allowed him view of the building across the street.

Jennifer ran until there was no more ground left and jumped over the edge of the roof, arms wide and a grin on her face. Richard watched from the window and the boys ran to the edge to look down at the ever descending Jennifer. She continued flying down 16 stories until she came to a halt and reached the floor they needed.

"That's twenty pounds of crazy in a five pound bag," Javier shook his head.