At first, everything went smoothly. Broderick stepped through the front door, setting off an alarm. Guards rushed out the door, only to be pegged back by Ned's stun darts.
By the time the first alarm went off, Jonah was onto the window sill. He gritted his teeth, grabbing onto a corrugated iron sheet and hauling himself up.
That's where it all went wrong.
More guards swarmed onto the second floor balcony, armed with nasty-looking stun guns. Jonah was trapped. If he dropped, he'd hurt himself on the cement and would be a sitting duck. He couldn't move to the side fast enough, and he couldn't reach his own dart gun without falling.
Then he felt something swish past his ear. One of the guards fell, clutching his shoulder, and the rest retreated hurriedly. He looked down to see Ned give him a thumbs up.
Jonah forced himself up again. The guards wouldn't stay back for long, and he had to be armed when they came again.
When, at long last, he made it up, he took out the remaining guards with a couple neat shots, then dashed downstairs to clear the way for Broderick and Ned. It was over in minutes.
Broderick stood up from the table he'd been sheltering under. "Nice shooting, Jonah."
Ned wiped the perspiration from his forehead. "Okay, then, let's see what we can find."