Heists and Vengeance

Sixteen

Brett

"Okay." Brett said. "So, you're sure you got the plan down?"

Lana sighed – understandably, since he'd asked that question no less than six times in the past ten minutes. "Yes, Brett. I've told you that, like, five times."

"Six actually. And, sorry. But I just want to make sure that you're completely ready. It is your first heist after all!" He looked at her, expecting her to squeal with delight, or at least smile. Instead, she just took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, the picture of determination, but when he looked closer, he could see the excitement quivering off her skin.

And, to be honest, he was excited too. It wasn't his first heist, for sure, but it was the first time he'd been in charge of an operation like this. And he wasn't going to screw it up.

Brett checked his watch – two minutes to eight, and looked down the empty road at the van parked inconspicuously by a streetlamp. Erin was inside – he'd reluctantly let her play a part in this mission, as the importance of a getaway could not be ignored for the sake of pride.

He looked away from the van, and focused his attention onto the house in front of him. It surely wasn't a modest home, but also wasn't as big as one would expect from a billionare like Carmichael. However, it made up for size with spendor – the modern house was very wide and was filled with large terraces and elegant balconies, perfect for entertaining distinguished guests. The arched windows looked out onto a perfectly manicured lawn, which had a thin gravel path leading up the center of it, up to the large front door. The whole house was protected by black wrought iron gates which were locked securely, not with a keypad, as would be expected, but with a large old-fashioned padlock.

Fortunately for him, Brett wasn't planning on trying to cut through 2 inches of hardened steel – he wasn't that crazy. No, instead, he was planning on putting all that time with that climbing instructor to use.

They waited at the gates, out of view from anyone inside, and watched the two security guards pass by the front of the house. They knew – from a few stakeout sessions – that the watchmen would patrol the perimeter of the house, each round taking roughly fifteen minutes.

Once the two men were out of sight, Brett turned to Lana. "You ready to climb this thing?"

"Ready as I'll ever be." She rubbed her arms, shivering a bit – of what? Cold? Fear? – and Brett glanced over at her, making sure she was okay.

She, like he was, was dressed in full black, and had tied her hair back in a tight ponytail that accentuated the sharpness of her eyes. Her hands reached up to tighten it, and when they did, they were shaking as well.

"Hey." Brett said. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Just nervous, I guess."

"And excited?"

"That too."

"Well then, we should get a move on." He placed a hand on his hips, and looked up at the gates. "So, you said you were a good climber, right?"

They got over the gates fairly quickly, without trouble, and landed softly in the grass on the other side. They slipped across the garden, making sure to stay out of where the moonlight was streaming down. As he dodged yet another visible patch of light, Brett silently cursed the lunar cycle for landing on a full moon, on that night in particular.

Suddenly, they heard a low growling noise. It was the only warning they had before two large Dobermans burst out of seemingly nowhere. The two dogs sniffed the air, for a second or two, before bolting straight at Lana and him.