The Huntress and the Stray

Blake Belladonna slinked into the decaying men's room, feline ears flattening on top of her head in distaste. Stall doors hang off hinges and cryptic graffiti covered the walls. Smashed porcelain crunched under Blake's boots as she approached Roman Torchwick. The career criminal sat with his feet up on a rickety desk, dragged in from elsewhere in the dilapidated building. A bowler hat is crammed down over unruly red hair, the white trench coat he wore was a bold choice for reclining in a grimy chair. His number two, Neo Politan, is perched on the edge of the desk, kicking his feet lazily in the air. A white, tailed jacket lined with pink hung off his short frame. His close cropped hair parted into pink and brown; Blake again wondered if it was natural. Neo smirked at her look and casually took a bite of an apple. It was a mystery to Blake how Torchwick's lackey can stomach food with the rank, sour smell permeating the room.

"Glad you could make it, Kitty-cat. Please, take a seat." Torchwick greeted jovially. A quick look at the damp office chair has Blake shaking her head.

"I'm fine, thanks." She said, disgust plainly showing. Blake knew Torchwick picked these meeting places as a tactical advantage. Keeping his guests uncomfortable made for easier negotiations. Blake admitted to herself that it was working this time.

"Fair enough. Down to business then, I have a job for you." Torchwick said. Blake's ears perked up, interested.

"It's an easy gig, a spot of surveillance," he drawled on, "Nothing outside your skill set." Blake crossed her arms.

"Who am I looking for?" She asked.

"Not who, what. You recognise these, right?"

With a flick of a wrist a pack of playing cards appeared in Torchwick's gloved hand. Blake nodded, dredging up an old memory of playing with a battered deck by soft candle light; Mother laughing at the perplexed expression on Father's face as Blake happily taught them human games.

"Good, that saves time in explaining," Torchwick said, artfully shuffling the deck, "There's a poker game tonight, I need your help to even the odds."

"You want me to... play?" Torchwick barked a laugh at her question.

"A chimmie girl at the table? That'll be a sight!" Blake's tail twitched at the slur.

"Then what, tahae?" She growled. Torchwick lifted his hands up in surrender.

"Easy, Kitty-cat. I'm getting there."

With practised ease, Torchwick tossed five cards onto the table to land face down in a neat arc. Blake stared at the blue and white patterns, not understanding.

"Ordinary cards, right? Unless you look at them in the right light. Neo, show her." Torchwick said.

Neo pulled a small pair of binoculars out of his jacket and tossed them at Blake. Lazily snatching them out of the air, she curiously examined them. Neo mimed how to use them, exaggerating the motions. Blake ignored the taunt and peered through the binoculars at the cards. Bright writing appeared showing the suit and a number or letter. Blake read them off.

"Queen of clubs, seven of spades, nine of clubs, three of diamonds, and one of hearts."

"Ace of hearts." Torchwick corrected, turning over each card, showing the face matched the back. Blake tapped the lenses.

"How does it work?" She asked.

"Thin layer of hard light dust. Invisible unless the right filter is used," Torchwick explained, "Activates in contact with aura."

"And I spy to tell you the cards?"

"Yes, the dealer is in on it and will light them up."

"Seems simple." Blake mused. Torchwick nodded in agreement.

"There's a skylight above the table, you can relay the cards to me as they're dealt." He said.

"How?"

"Using these."

At Torchwick's signal, Neo pulled out a scroll and a round, smooth piece of plastic out of his jacket. Hopping off the table, he handed them to Blake.

"What is this?" Blake asked as she held up the small disc.

"It's an earpiece, in case I need to talk to you." Torchwick replied, tapping his ear, "Your human ears do work, don't they?" Blake rolled her eyes.

"Yes, but these work better." Blake said, tapping the faunus ears sticking out of her raven hair.

"Of course they do. Moving on, the scroll has a map to the location programmed into it. Please don't break this one." Torchwick cautioned.

Blake huffed at the comment, it wasn't her fault scrolls didn't bounce. She slipped them, along with the binoculars, into the inside felt pocket of her coat.

"When?"

"Be in position by eight tonight, look for the skylight with the red flag." Torchwick said.

"How much?" Blake asked.

"You'll be paid 500 lien for tonight."

Blake's expression remained unchanged but her faunus traits gave away her delight at hearing the sum. 500 lien!, she thought, tail flicking upwards happily, I could get a room with a shower!

"Seems fair." She said, tone neutral. Torchwick grinned at her poor attempt at bluffing.

"If there's no more questions, then we'll meet up after the game." he said.

Blake doesn't reply as she turned and stalked out of the impromptu office, Torchwick watching her leave. After her footsteps fade away down the stairs, he spoke up.

"Glad she's a cheap date. Let's hope she doesn't find out how much she's worth." Neo faced Torchwick, his hands flashing with signs.

Are you sure we should use her? She's a faunus bumpkin.

"Ye of little faith," Torchwick tsked, "Besides, you know how hard it is to get good help these days."

She couldn't even use a scroll until two weeks ago!

"She's a quick study." Torchwick said with dismissive wave. Neo pouted and folded his arms. Standing, Torchwick sauntered around the desk to give the short boy a quick pat on the shoulder.

"It'll be fine. Besides, I have you for plan B." He said.

Neo pondered his words before giving Torchwick a wicked grin.

"Ay, brute! Ya want a real man to make a women of ya?"

Yang Xiao Long sighed and hefted a box of machine parts into the back of her delivery truck to land with a clatter, the truck's suspension bouncing with the weight. She turned and faced the co-worker who hollered. He leered at her within the warehouse doors, a few other workers stopped stacking shelves to pay attention.

"When you find one then let me know, Gavin!" Yang shouted back, holding a fist out with her pinky extended down and waggling.

Gavin's face flushed red as his workmates laugh and playfully shove him. Before he could escalate, the supervisor marched out of his office, scowling.

"Alright back to work, lads! And Gavin, keep your gob shut!" He bellowed, waving a clipboard to shoo them off.

Yang smiled as the grizzled old man puffed towards her. Coming to an abrupt stop and tucking the clipboard under an arm, he looped both thumbs through overall straps.

"Afternoon, Yang. You keeping alright?" he said.

"Just fine, Mr Greywacke. Loading up my last delivery now." Yang replied.

"About that, you good for a few more today? The other driver is out sick, bad clams." Greywacke said, spitting his frustration onto the ground. Yang frowned.

"How many more?"

"Four, you should done be around 8 o'clock," he said, worry pulling at his face, "I'm in a bit a pinch here, big customers you see."

"Lets see the orders." Yang said.

The supervisor passed the clipboard over and she and flipped through the paperwork. Yang gave him a nod.

"Yeah, I can do this no problem."

"Thanks Yang, you're a peach." Greywacke said, relief relaxing his features.

"I owe you for giving me a chance anyway." said Yang with a earnest smile. No one else wanted anything to do with a teenage girl fresh from the boonies. Especially one not afraid of using aura.

Greywacke shuffled his feet nervously, and fished a damp handkerchief from a pocket. Lifting his flat cap to wipe sweat from his balding head, lips open and close as words refuse to come. Yang crossed her arms, recognising the signs.

"Come on, boss. Out with it."

"Well, there was a complaint." Greywacke mumbled.

A complaint. There was always a damn complaint. Yang could feel the flames of anger licking at her patience. She attempted a deep, calming breath.

"I've been holding back, but any more I'll be too slow." Yang said through gritted teeth. Greywacke shook his head.

"It's not about aura, managed to smooth most of those ruffled feathers." He said.

"Then what?"

"It's about your... clothing options."

The Spring warmth had forced Yang to shed a few layers, preferring not to be swimming in sweat. The brown bomber jacket and orange tank top combination she wore wasn't controversial. That left the comfortable and practical shorts she wore over black spats.

"Oh come on, everyone is starting to wear shorts!" Yang said.

"I know, I know," the supervisor held up his hands to placate her, "No problem here."

"Then who's complaining? Not that SDC prick again?"

Greywacke's cagey expression confirmed Yang's suspicions. Their largest customer, SDC had multiple locations spread across Vale. Though no fault of her own, Yang had managed to earn the ire of their procurement manager – SDC stacked their upper management with true believers. Greywacke tended to avoid assigning SDC jobs to Yang, but with only two drivers she couldn't escape all deliveries. The supervisor straightened up.

"No need for that language! And don't you go doing anything!" He said firmly.

"I wasn't!" Yang protested, vigorously shaking her head sending disorderly golden locks tumbling.

"Hmph, don't be thinking I didn't know about his car being egged."

"Wouldn't know anything about that." Yang said innocently. Greywacke delivered her a hard look, before a slight grin tweaked at his mouth.

"They're still wondering how it got cooked on." He said with a chuckle. Yang shrugged.

"Dedication?" She offered.

"Well, a job needs to be done right," Greywacke said. Yang had to agree to that.

Anger rapidly cooling, Yang felt some pity for the supervisor; he received a lot of backlash keeping her on. And he did have a knack for soothing the indignant stuck in the tar of religion. Yang pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Look, I'll find some half skirts or something." She said, looking for a compromise. Greywacke's shoulders relaxed.

"Thanks, Yang. Sorry about this nonsense." He said.

"Not your fault, old man."

"Well, I'll let you get to it then." With a tip of his cap, Greywacke turned to leave. On impulse, Yang called out before he got back into the warehouse.

"Hey, why did you hire me?" She asked.

"Because I owe it to someone to take risks." Greywacke replied cryptically, without stopping.

Blake almost pranced down the darkening streets as she mentally spent her upcoming pay. A relaxing shower, full stomach, and sleeping in a warm bed were comforts only achieved a handful of times in her half year stay in Vale. Hell, a hot shower was still a novelty to the faunus who grew up in villages without electricity. An endless supply of heated water, Blake thought, definitely a perk of human civilisation I could get behind.

Blake felt her tail brush against her back as it swayed with joy. Her yellow eyes dart around under her hood as she carefully coiled it away back under her long coat. Thankfully the streets were largely empty at this time of night. These days Blake found herself wishing that her only faunus trait were the ears she was born with; her tail had a mind of it's own, often attracting unwanted attention. Glancing down at her scroll, Blake made a right turn following the map laid out for her. Humans certainly made things easier for themselves, she found herself thinking.

Passing a brightly lit laundromat, she stared at the one tumbling machine in a row of silent others. The concept of washing machines still amazed Blake and an urge to try one tugged at her. But the clothes on her back were all she owned, and humans were easily offended by nudity. Blake was thankful the sturdy leather and felted fur clothing she wore were made for hard wearing, even if they crackled a bit as she walked.

Blake continued to follow the path laid out by her scroll. Shops and apartment buildings faded away to make room for warehouses and factories. The smell of salt water and long dead fish occasional wafted in as she neared the sea. Lamp posts become more and more spaced out until she found herself walking without their electric buzz. Blake's eyes gleamed as they pierced the lengthening shadows – Night vision a welcomed faunus advantage.

Turning a corner Blake entered an alleyway. Light blooms from an open doorway halfway down, a small truck parked beside it with it's rear roller door opened.

"Bayside Engineering and Electrical Supplies" Blake said, reading the truck's black and yellow lettering out loud. She went to move around the open cab door when a package on the dash caught her attention. She recognised the wrapping from dumpster diving, a popular sandwich place. Blake stomach growled with the opportunity of an easy meal. Quickly in and out, she secured her prize. A woman's voice cried out.

"Hey!"

The furious shout startled Blake. Without glancing backwards she tore into a sprint for the alley exit. Pounding footsteps followed.

"Get back here!"

Blake stayed ahead of her pursuer as she ran, only slowing to briefly check her scroll. Soon her destination loomed ahead of her, a large warehouse with zigzaging roof line. She made for a narrow gap down the side and ducked in while loosening a long ribbon wrapped around a forearm. Charged with aura, she used it to grapple the roof line and pulled it taut, testing it. Jumping, Blake called onto her semblance and perfect copy of herself formed out of shadows beneath her. Acting as a springboard, the clone boosted her up the warehouse wall. The double vanished back into the darkness as Blake scrambled up the ribbon, dragging herself over the edge as the scrape of boots announced her hunter sliding into the alleyway below.

Blake peeked over the edge; a mop of blonde hair slowly paced below. Eventually they come to a decision and jogged down the gap. Blake watched her reach the end and turn a corner before relaxing her guard. A successful heist!

A sudden jingle in her ear almost sent her rolling off the roof. Fumbling for her scroll, Blake answered the call.

"Hello?" She whispered. Torchwick's smug voice answered.

"Kitty-cat, you're in position I hope."

"Almost, I'm on the roof." Blake said, creeping to the first rise.

"Good. We're about to head in, keep the call going."

The call went silent as Torchwick muted his end. Blake surveyed the roof from the first peak, spotting the marking flag fluttering in the breeze. Silently prowling to the skylight, she looked down to catch the first players taking seats around a table below. Taking out the binoculars, Blake settled down to watch. The hard earned sandwich is placed beside her.

Yang trudged back the way she came, irritated at herself for losing the thief. They were quick. Tapping into aura only allowed her to keep sight of them. Well, up to a point.

"Shit." Yang swore, kicking ineffectively at the trash littering the alleyway. She stopped and squatted down, balancing on the balls of her feet. Head bowed, fingers thread into her long hair. One day. That's all she needed. One day with no stupid catcalls, no stupid complaints for doing her job, no fucking pious pricks. Yang wanted to punch back. Unfortunately, faith made for good armor in Vale. At least the thief was something I could hit.

Yang stood. Hands on hips, she stretched back and gazed upwards. The theft of a sandwich was nothing compared to the bonfire of dogma threatening to roast her. Yet it burned her to let it go. As Yang watched stars wink in the gap between roof lines, a thought occurred to her. What if...?

She strode towards the rear of warehouse, eyes scanning the walls. She found what she was looking for on the back wall; an access ladder. The base sat out of reach, a locked cage wrapped around to prevent entry. It was no obstacle to Yang. A touch of aura had her hanging one handed from the side of the cage. She popped the padlock open with her free hand and clambered onto the ladder.

Quietly, Yang eased herself up the ladder and poked her head up slowly. She grinned as her hunch paid off; The thief was laying on their stomach, their hood illuminated as they peered through a skylight. Yang gathered herself into a crouch, her target unaware with their attention focused downwards. Aura pumped into her legs and she leapt, the corrugated iron spreading under her boot like a footprint left in mud. The thief turned her way as she sailed towards them. Too slow to react from their prone position, Yang landed heavily on their back with a satisfying thump. She felt the resistance of an aura as she tried to hold them down. The thief bucked hard and almost slipped out from under Yang. Grunting, Yang pulled them back hard, spinning them around to slam into the glass of the skylight. Bright golden eyes flashing with indignation glare back. Yang pauses. A girl?

Yellow orbs dart down and Yang's gaze followed. Her sandwich lay there, unmolested. Yang grinned and reached for it. Despite her position, the thief snatched for it as well. The movement and struggle forced Yang to shift her weight to keep the girl pinned against the glass. Cracks form and branch off across the skylight, both girls holding their breath at the splintering noise. The glass shattered. A momentary feeling of weightlessness then Yang plummets with the thief into the warehouse.

They land hard on a table below, scattering gambling chips and bottles, Yang's fall cushioned by the thief beneath her. The impact forced the thief to relinquish the sandwich. Yang sat up, straddling the stunned thief and crowing in triumphant.

"Aha! Mine again!"

Movement to her sides drew Yang's attention away from the groaning thief. There were a lot of guns pointed at her.

"Well, shit."

"Torchwick you slimy fuck, what the hell is this?" A bear of a man shouts, wiping beer off his black silk vest.

"I was about to ask the same thing to you, Junior." A tall, lanky man in a bowler hat narrowed his eyes at Yang, "Looks like one of your whores."

The other players back away slowly as the two men glared across the table. Henchmen scattered around the room close ranks behind their bosses. White trench coated thugs faced off against black suited gangsters like a badly themed chess game. Junior reaches down and retrieves a long, thin case.

"Bugger this, games off. You want this then front up the cash." He said, slapping the case with a meaty hand. Torchwick sighed.

"Plan B, Neo."

The lackey standing at Junior's left lashed out, their gun crunching into his nose and flaring brick red aura. Even with the extra protection the blow still managed to draw blood. Junior dropped the case and it was quickly snatched up by the traitor. Dazed, Junior still managed to engulf the him in a bear-hug. He squeezed. They shattered.

Junior stared in surprised as shards of the former traitor fall from his arms. The air shimmered by Torchwick and his number two materialises, releasing his semblance. A slice of a smile on his lips, Neo twirled the pilfered case tauntingly. Junior growled.

"Jubb kilb dem!" He roared, blood spraying off his lips.

Yang shared a look with the hooded girl before flopping sideways off the table. Pistols crack deafeningly and as Yang hits the ground before rolling under the table. Her shoulder bumped the sandwich thief who mirrored her actions in seeking cover from the bullets passing overhead.

"Look what you did!" She yelled over the gunfire.

"Me? This is your fault! You took my property!" Yang waved the pudgy sandwich in her face.

She was quick. Yang found herself staring at empty space and an equally empty hand. She turned to look forward and the girl is smugly crouched, holding the sandwich up in victory – until a passing bullet exploded it. Splattered with the contents, the thief mournfully looked at the remains smeared over her fist. Yang can't help but laugh, though it quickly dies when a gun is held to the girl's hooded head.

"Die, bitch."

Yang watched as the girl reacted. She ducked her head while a hand shot out to grasp the gunman's wrist, pulling downwards and away. Off balance, he stumbled forward and the thief's boot solidly impacted with his face as she kicked up from her crouch. The gangster crumbled to the floor. Yang is impressed by the lithe movements, even she isn't as flexible in close quarters.

The thief's purple aura flares as a bullet glances off it. She cried out and grasped her shoulder. A fire roared to life in Yang, sudden and furious. Without thinking, she heaved the table away sending it tumbling into into two struggling fighters. The sudden violent movement pauses the surrounding combat, allowing Yang to stride forward and scoop up the thief. Both sides train their guns on the new threat and Yang gritted her teeth as bullets bounced off her aura. She dived forward behind a broad crate. Out of sight, the mobsters turn their attention back to each other.

Yang found herself looking down at the thief for the third time.

"We've got to stop meeting like this." She joked.

"You can get off me now."

Yang sat up and pressed her back against the crate, the thief joining her. Gunshots and shouts announce the fight is still going strong, a stray bullet pinged off the concrete beside her. She needed a way out, and any help that she can get. Yang held out her hand.

"Temporary truce?" She suggested. The girl gave her a wary look before gingerly taking her hand.

"Truce."

"Great, now we need a way out."

The girl tugged at her sleeve and pointed at a large sheet metal sliding door, the closest exit. A handful of goons stand in the way. The few small crates scattered around offer scant cover for sneaking, they would need to make a break for it.

"Alright, we run. Leave the door to me." Yang said.

Without waiting for a reply, Yang darted from their cover. She kicked at a crate in her path, the wood splintering as it's hurtled across the floor. It caught a gangster unaware, slamming into his shins and toppling him over. Yang winced as she heard his chin crunch when it struck the ground.

The next opponent noticed her approach, but could do little against Yang's charge. The shoulder tackle broke his aura as Yang transferred her momentum into the helpless thug. He bounced and skidded into a motionless heap.

A gun rapidly fired behind Yang before she can move again, yet the expected bullets failed to connect. Instead, steel piercingly resonated and bullets whine as they ricochet. Turning, she found the hooded girl holding a curved knife with a carved bone handle, the blade still ringing slightly. A faint glow of aura surrounded it. I need to learn that trick, Yang thought.

Returning to the task at hand, she made for the exit. Advancing, Yang doesn't break her stride as she unleashed her semblance. The power of every hit, gunshot, and impact she received is echoed back and amplified into one aura boosted blow. The metal door folded like paper. It crashed thunderously to the ground and Yang carried on though. The dramatic effect is somewhat spoiled as she stopped and walked back to drag the shocked thief with her. The astonished mobsters watch her leave. Torchwick broke the spell.

"Don't just stand there you idiots, get her!"

Yang and the hooded girl weave through the warehouse bursting out a side door into the chill evening air. Muffled yelling spurred them towards the street, the thief taking the lead. She set a gruelling pace as they attempted to lose their pursuers down back alleys and side streets.

Lagging behind and looking over her shoulder, Yang failed to notice the girl's sudden stop. She slammed into the thief's back, sending them flying to land with a mighty splash. Saltly water filled Yang's mouth as she gasped in the frigid ocean. Kicking hard, she burst though the surface spluttering. Flailing arms drawing her attention, Yang watched the thief slip under. Shit! She can't swim!

Yang cut through the water with a few powerful strokes. Diving under, it's only by luck that she caught the sinking thief by the collar in the pitch black water. Aura powered kicks have their heads back above the water, the thief gulping down breaths between choked words.

"Awhina! Kia awhina koe!"

"Would you calm down! You'll drown us both!"

Yang slipped an arm around the floundering thief from behind, then awkwardly made the swim back to dry land. Numbing cold sapped her strength, leaving Yang to rely on aura to get them out of the bay. A final push and Yang's hand made contact with the rough stone of the quay. The thief wasted no time in climbing up the slope, boots slipping against the wet stonework.

Yang hauled herself up to find the thief hunched over, thumping the back of her head. She straightened, hood falling back to reveal prominent feline ears flicking with irritation.

"You're a faunus?" Yang said, taking in the thief's dripping figure, "A wild faunus?"

"What gave it away." the thief grumbled, futilely trying to wring out her leather bodice.

"Yesh, someone doesn't like their late night swims."

"Yes, they're lovely. I do enjoy not breathing and my ears filled with half the ocean."

"Payback for the sandwich then." Yang huffed.

"Because that's a fair price? Thrown through a skylight, getting shot at, and almost drowned over a pohe sandwich!" the thief spat.

"It was because you stole it!" Yang shouted.

"Then buy another! No sane person would go that far for a sandwich! Why does it matter so much?"

"It doesn't! I just... I needed a win, okay?" Yang sighed, "I just needed a fucking win."

The faunus paused and tilted their head as she studied the dejected Yang.

"I can understand that." the thief said carefully. Yang brightened a little.

"Besides, it was kind of fun. And it's not everyday I get to blow off steam."

"Humans have a strange sense for fun."

"What? Faunus don't like a good food fight?" A chill onshore breeze made them both shudder in the awkwardness of Yang's joke.

"I'm sorry for the sandwich." the faunus offered.

"I'm sorry for... everything else." Yang said, rubbing the back of her head. The thief gave a small smile as she rolled her eyes.

"I should go find somewhere to dry off. It's been interesting...?" she trailed off.

"It's Yang. I didn't catch yours."

"Blake."

"See you around Blake." Yang watched as Blake turned to leave, the thief hugging herself for warmth as she shivered. A sudden impulse made her call out.

"Hey, do you need ride anywhere?" Yang asked. Blake looked back, rubbing her arms.

"No, don't know here I'm going."

"Oh. Well, there's my place?" Blake gave her a frosty look, ears flattening back.

"I don't sell myself, tahae."

"What?" Yang's momentary confusion is replaced with pink cheeks, "No! Not like that! I meant as somewhere warm to take your clothes– I mean to dry off. As an apology for getting you wet– for the dunking." Blake raised an eyebrow at her bumbling.

"I'll thrown in a meal too." Yang finished lamely. Blake's ears perked up.

"Sure, why not."

"Great," Yang looked around to get her bearing, "Truck is this way." Blake fell in beside her for the walk back.

"You owe me 500 lien by the way."

"What?"

With Junior finally chased off, Torchwick sat in the wreckage of the room fumbling with the case's lock. He looked up as Neo sauntered up and started to sign.

Men are back, said the girls got away.

"Expected, Kitty-cat is no slouch. Wonder who Blondie was though?" Torchwick said.

One of Junior's? Maybe he got the same idea.

"Hardly," Torchwick snorted in amusement, "Junior's not imaginative." Neo shrugged.

At least we got the case.

"At a cost." Torchwick said, glancing around at his groaning men. Most will be out of action for a while. He would need to lie low until the gang was back to full strength.

Turning back to the case, Torchwick grinned as his pick found the sweet spot and the lock clicked open. He eagerly wrenched the case open, revealing a few printed photos and a handful of dust cartridges of assorted colours.

"That lying bastard, it's not here!" Torchwick exclaimed, picking up a red cartridge, "Only the ammo, no wonder he agreed to play for it."

Neo peered over Torchwick's shoulder at the case. He reached in to gather up the pictures and shuffled through them. He stopped at one then tapped Torchwick with it.

"What is it?" Torchwick grumbled, taking the picture. Neo pointed at a glass display case in the background. Torchwick blinks.

"Well I'll be damned, Junior knew it whereabouts." His crooked grin returns.

Who's the fat guy?

"That Neo, is Beacon's Headmaster, Peter Port. And he's standing in his office."

The posh school? The one you went to?

"The very same, the codger collects old weapons." Torchwick said.

Then lets get it.

"Not that easy," Torchwick frowned, "Even with your peculiar semblance, getting in is difficult. Then there's the security in the office."

Then what's the plan?

"We give Kitty-cat a chance at redemption."