1

The Job
(22 years later)

Her Her eyes raked across the surfaces of the building. Marble, granite, brick, stained glass. "I don't like it." She said, from the back of the golf cart as it drove down the winding road. Her eyes were still fixated on the building. "Too many liabilities." She said, and she was right. The building itself almost looked like a church. It jutted out from the edge of a hill. The entrance, luxurious marble and granite double doors. As she followed the building with her eyes, it grew taller. At the end of the building, a large three story stained glass window sat. The building towered over everything. Two smaller glass doors inset in the window led to a patio that overlooked the area below. She tore her eyes away from the building and looked at the man next to her. "If it were up to me…"

"Which I might remind you it isn't." Hans, the man sitting next to her said. She maintained an emotionless glare.
"Well, if it were up to me, I wouldn't do it here."

Hans had been with her since the beginning, well, almost. After the events of the orphanage she grew up on the street away from other people. Stealing to stay alive.

She didn't know why but stealing, fighting, hell even climbing came naturally to her. She felt the urge to act whenever she saw her opening. A purse left for mere moments on a table. A meal abandoned growing cold from misuse. There were only a few times she'd gotten caught.

She remembered back her 14th birthday. She had decided stealing purses and wallets wasn't enough. She broke into a house, mansion more like. She searched for the biggest house she could find. She still remembered the address. 312 Morrison. A long winding road set into the woods. The perfect house. Isolated enough to minimize unwanted attention, yet close enough to the nearest town to allow Elsa an easy getaway.

She watched the house for a few hours memorizing the patrols as they came and went. She noticed a few covert patrols. A man out for a jog who ran one too many times around the block. A woman performing yard work for far too long, who glanced at the house too many times to be out of pure curiosity.

However, as she observed throughout her life thus far, there was always an opening. Always an opportunity she could take advantage of. Every action had a reaction. Then she saw it, one of the guards walked out of the house with a plate of cake. Lunchtime.

Unfortunately, or perhaps rather fortunately, only moments after her opening, Hans had found her. He walked into the living room, on his way to get a snack from the kitchen. She stood like a deer caught in headlights. One hand held a fistful of cake that she also managed to smear across her face. The other hand held a handful of jewels, silverware, and anything else that looked valuable.

"How the hell…" he managed to stammer before she bolted for the open window. However, the cake in her hand caused her grip to falter as she attempted to vault over the edge of the window. Instead of disappearing into the woods, she stumbled backwards onto the floor. Hans had taken that opportunity to wrestle the valuables from her hands, also managing to pin her to the ground. By then, the rest of Hans' security team had heard the commotion and was in the room.

They all wanted to leave her for the police to handle, but Hans saw something in the young girl. She had made it past his custom made security plans, which earned her some kind of respect in his eyes. He offered her an ultimatum. Either she stayed with him and he'd train her for security work, or they'd turn her to the cops. Kind of a no brainer on her part. The police around her were not known for their lax punishments. So she just nodded stupidly to the man. Now, she still did the same thing whenever he talked. Over the years they had worked various jobs together. Sometime it'd be when they were mercenaries for hire, other times when they were security outfits for the rich.

"That's why I want you to head of security on the contract this time." Hans said. She froze. Had she heard him correctly? Hans was always the one in charge. From the smallest contracts to the largest ones. The cold wind that blew though her coat. Suddenly didn't bother her.
"You can see it Elsa. You've got a gift. I want you to run this project, as an introduction, almost like a test. It's a tricky one no doubt, but I think you can handle it. We've been working together for over 12 years. You have enough experience now to basically do this yourself." I don't deserve this. Her face projected the perfect mask of emotionlessness. It was the mask she'd used ever since the day after the orphanage, and it had pulled over her face once again. "Elsa, I wouldn't give it to you if I didn't think you couldn't handle it." Hans said, taking her emotionlessness for nervousness. She just nodded. I'm worthless.
"I won't let you down." She explained.
"If you don't want it I won't force it on you."
"No. I can handle it." Hans just nodded. Elsa looked back at to the building, this time with a new fervor. Her thoughts raced faster than she could process. She'd need cameras, metal detectors, security sweeps, more cameras, guns. How many people per sweep? Teams of 2 maybe 3 just to be safe? What would she do about the window? It was the most exposed sector of the building. What was the budget again? Her nose scrunched in thought. She stared at the pavement at it whizzed past underneath her.

She looked over the paperwork once again. The glasses on her face slid down to the brim of her nose. She nudged the frames back with one finger. She was hunched over a table. The same table she'd been sitting at for hours on end. Her back started to hurt. She sat up and straightened it. She looked down at the papers that littered the table. The largest paper was a blueprint of the building she had been looking at hours before. Next to that were pages of loose-leaf notebook paper with her handwriting scrawled across it. She rubbed her temples with her fingertips. Numbers and images whirled around in her head.

She eyed the mini fridge across her room. She needed a drink. She shook the thought away. She would not allow Hans to catch her drinking on the job. Her eyes returned to the table. The corner of a different type of paper called for her attention.

She swept the notebook papers aside to reveal a plane ticket underneath. It read 7:00am flight to Chicago. Shit, she forgot. She glanced at the clock on the table. 6:00. Shit. Had she been up all night? If she wouldn't drink on the job she sure as hell wouldn't be late. She opened her phone and called a cab as she sprinted for the bathroom, ripping her clothes off as she went. She opened her suitcase and considered what she should wear.

She needed something presentable and professional is what Hans had always said. She settled on a black skirt that went down to her mid-thigh. A white collared dress shirt. A black blazer and, as always, white gloves. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her hair was a wild mess. Somehow she must've managed to fall asleep, onto her papers, in the night. She braided it off to one side in haste and applied a minimal amount of makeup. A red lipstick, some mascara? She wasn't paying enough attention to know.

Her phone buzzed. The taxi. She answered it. Without waiting for a response she said "I will be down in a 53 seconds." She hung up the phone and ran back to the table. With one stroke she pushed the papers off the table and into her suitcase. She did one last scan of the room before rushing out the door and onto the street. The taxi driver popped the hood and she threw her suitcase inside. She slipped inside the taxi and said "Airport. Fast."

The trunk slammed shut. She circled around to the taxi driver's window and shoved a fistful of bills into his hands. Without a word she turned to face the airport. Instead she faced Hans.
"You're late."
"No." She said. She drew her sleeve back to reveal her watch. "I'm 12 second early." Hans ignored her.
"You can't be late to a job. Every second your late is?"
"Is a second someone can take advantage of your weaknesses." She intoned. It was the same mantra he had been telling her since the first time, and last time, she was late.

It had been winter when it happened. She couldn't have been over 17. Hans had given her free reign of her time but expected her to show up on time to every job. For that particular job she showed up exactly 3 minutes and thirty two seconds late having decided to stop and get a coffee beforehand.

She remembered it was particularly cold that evening. She looked up at the clock in her car. 6:45. she had to meet up with Hans and their crew to start the next job. She just needed something in her system to keep her awake first.

"Hi, welcome to the Apple what can I get you today?"
"Cup of coffee, black."
"Yep, no problem. Please pull up to the next window for your total. Thank you." 12 seconds.
She pulled forward. The window opened and she handed over the money. She always paid in exact change. 8 Seconds. Her mind wandered back to the job as she waiting for her coffee and she checked the time. 6:53. The woman behind the counter shifted and got her coffee ready. 47 seconds. The cashier handed the coffee over but dropped the lid on the ground. The woman chuckled and grabbed another lid and handed it over. 7 seconds.
"Have a nice day!"
"MmmHmm." 2 seconds.

Heavy traffic crawled across the road as she inched her car to the edge of the street. The snow was coming down even harder now. She waited for her opening. 23 seconds. Her car slipped on the ice as the car accelerated. 8 seconds.

She checked the time again and pulled into a parking lot. 7:02. Shit she thought. She looked around at the other cars. Everyone else was there except her. She even was able to spot Hans' car before she went inside the building she had parked in front of.

"You look like shit." Hans said, pulling her out of her memories.
"Didn't sleep. Work." Hans eyed her up and down. Her hair was a mess, there were dark rings around her eyes. Her clothes were wrinkled. Hans stared, emotionless.
"You can sleep on the plane. Come on." They walked through the airport at a brisk pace. Elsa's suitcase rattled behind them. The open spaces, hallways and crowds of people all put her on edge. Hans led her to a private terminal section of the airport. Through a large window to her left she saw the plane. It wasn't particularly large but it was luxurious. The plane sat, painted in all black minus the word Arendelle painted on the side. Its wingtips curved upwards and its tail arched up and cut flat.
"You like?" A man who she didn't notice was standing next to her said.
"Is that ours?" She managed to say.
"Perks of working for the Arendelle Corporation. She's fully stocked and ready to go."
"Gulfstream G650ER." She blurted. All the specifications, blueprints, and other useful information involving the plane popped into her head.
"Oh, you know your planes eh?"
"No." An awkward pause. She really didn't. This sort of thing just happened. Most times she could anticipate the urges probing her mind. Sometimes she wasn't so lucky.
"Well, if you think the outside is impressive, wait until you get inside."
She looked at the man next to her. He offered his hand.
"Kristof's the name. I'll be making sure our trip is a safe one, you have my word." He said and bowed almost mockingly before her. The corner of her lips pursed upwards .Her hand flew to her mouth. An attempt at concealing a smile.
"Elsa Skyridge." She said. The man shifted his stance just a few inches in the opposite direction.

"You're not the Elsa Skyridge though right?"

"Is there more than one?" The man gulped, now trying not to make eye contact. He looked around, trying to avoid eye contact by let his eyes linger on random objects. "Why do you ask?"

"It's just… I've heard the stories." Mechanically she moved closer to the man's face. Being so close forced him to look into her eyes. They seemed to pierce into his soul.
"They're all true." She whispered and leaned back into normal pose. To Kristof though, that wasn't enough. He speed walked to the plane trying not to look back muttering to himself the whole way.

She turned to face Hans. He rolled his eyes at her.
"What?" He just stared. "Maintaining a proper reputation is just as viable of a deterrent on a job as a gun." She argued. Hans just looked downward and shook his head. Although Elsa couldn't see it, she could tell he was smiling the whole time. She returned her gaze to the plane.
"Who exactly are we working for?" She said. Hans smiled.
"I'll debrief you on the ride over."