Try Harder

7:00pm

Two vehicles turned off the main road and pulled into the parking lot for the law offices of Bennett, Olsen, Nygärd, Jørgensen, and Holm. One was N-Dig's old, rusty Ford Focus and the other was Surly Shirley's big, heavy moving truck. They drove them into position quickly and quietly.

N-Dig pulled his car right up next to the front doors and put it in park, but kept the engine running. From the driver's seat he could see right into the lobby.

Surly Shirley moved the truck around to the other side of the building, where the rear entrance was. It was a standard shipping dock, with a large retractable door and soft bumpers on either side. She lined up her back tires so they were parallel with the door, and then backed the truck up against it.

Buff was sitting next to her in the front cab. Clearly impressed with her driving, he let out a little wolf whistle.

"Nice parking," he cooed with a sly smile.

"Fuck yeah it was!" she cheered. "Now the rest is up to you, cocksucker."

Buff laughed. He'd never met anyone as blunt or profane as her, and he loved her for it. He hoped they'd stay friends after the heist.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small two-way radio. It was roughly the same size as a cell phone and built of rugged black plastic. There was a thick, stubby antenna poking out the top, beside a row of knobs and switches.

Everyone in the group had been given one of these eXRS two-way radios. They were more expensive than a normal walkie-talkie, but Doug claimed they were the best on the market. Unlike typical radios that relied on a single channel frequency, these continuously hopped between fifty different frequencies in a random sequence, providing up to 10 billion separate channels. In addition, they used voice-inversion technology that scrambled transmissions between people using the same channel. For those reasons, these radios were the most secure and private means of communication available commercially.

Buff flicked his on and fiddled with the knobs until it squawked to life. He held it up to his mouth and clicked the button labelled "TRANSMIT."

"Testing, testing. Over."

He waited a moment, and then his radio lit up and Doug's voice answered. The sound was crisp and clear, like he was right beside them.

"We hear you," he said, "but don't hold the radio so close to your mouth. You're distorting. And you don't need to say 'over,' either. Just look at the top. The green button lights up when somebody's transmitting."

He glanced down and saw that Doug was right.

"Oh," he uttered with a groan.

Shirley snickered.

"Thanks for the advice," Buff continued into the radio. "Turn the cell blocker on now."

Squeezed into the back seat of N-Dig's car, Doug didn't have much room to maneuver. Kane and Marcus were wedged in beside him. He tried elbowing them to one side, but they had nowhere to go. Doug was going to have to make do with the limited space he had.

He pulled his duffle bag up to his chest, unzipped it, and dug through it.

Eventually he found a small metal device the size of a shoebox, with a dial on the left side, and a single red button in the middle. He'd built it himself, modifying designs he found online and going through months and months of trial and error. Basically, it sent out a pulse that dropped all cell phone signals within a two-hundred-yard radius. It was highly illegal, but it did make going to a movie theatre a much more enjoyable experience.

Doug flicked the dial, crossed his fingers and pushed the red button. The box made a soft humming sound.

"Is she workin' there, b'y?" Marcus asked.