The Arcane Extraction : A Magical Heist

Chapter 7: The Team

The Dusky Diner usually buzzed with activity under the moon's watchful eye. However, at noon, it wore a different face - one of tranquility and subdued routine. The barman, a detail-oriented man in his late forties, found solace in polishing already gleaming glasses, his movements rhythmic and meditative. In a snug corner, a gaggle of waitresses sat huddled, their mirth and conversation weaving a tapestry of homely warmth in the otherwise quiet space.

The gentle harmony of the diner was momentarily disturbed as the door swung open, ushering in a cool breeze and two notably handsome men. Their entrance rippled through the room, drawing covert smiles and a symphony of whispers from the waitresses' table. One waitress, momentarily emboldened, half-rose to approach them but was gently dissuaded by a subtle hand gesture from the taller of the two, a man known as Ashford.

Ashford's gaze scanned the room, subtly inquisitive. The barman caught his eye and, understanding the unspoken question, answered, "They're upstairs, waiting in the storage room." Ashford nodded, a silent gesture of thanks, and motioned for Duncan, his companion, to follow.

"A storage room?" Duncan's voice was tinged with curiosity as he followed Ashford's lead.

"Yes, it's the only space we have that's large enough. I apologize for the inconvenience, Duncan. We'll find a more suitable location soon," Ashford replied, his tone apologetic yet matter-of-fact.

Pausing at the bar, Ashford addressed the barman, "Eamon, do you have a good bottle of single malt whiskey?"

Eamon, the barman, stroked his beard thoughtfully before suggesting, "How about Glenfiddich 18-year-old?"

"Excellent choice. I'll take it, along with six glasses, please," Ashford replied, his voice steady and assured.

While Eamon disappeared into the back to retrieve the bottle, Duncan continued his scan of the diner. 'No significant changes, same staff as always,' he thought, a strategic mind always at work. Ashford then received the bottle from Eamon and eyed Duncan who was scanning the surrounding, "Duncan, if you don't mind?" he asked and eyed the glasses which the barman kept in the table. "Of course, not" he replied and picked up the glasses, three in each hand.

Ashford received the whiskey, paying with crisp notes, a gesture for privacy that Eamon acknowledged with a knowing nod. The two men then ascended the stairs, now cordoned off by Eamon with a rope and a sign that read 'CLEANING'.

The storage room, marked by a hastily scribbled sign, was unexpectedly larger than the other rooms yet still felt cramped with six people inside. Shelves laden with old bottles and bar equipment lined the walls. Several bar stools, identical to those downstairs, six of them were arranged in a semicircle around a small round table. Seated were Maurice, in the corner furthest from the door, with Sylvia beside him, followed by Marcus and the engineer, Karl.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen, lady," Ashford greeted, with a warm smile looking at Sylvia, who returned the gesture. "I apologize for the location. We'll arrange something more appropriate soon. I believe you've all met, but let me introduce Mr. Duncan Hill, the newest member of our team."

Duncan tipped his hat in greeting, receiving a series of nods in return. Taking their seats, Ashford cleared his throat, his demeanor shifting to one of seriousness. "We're embarking on a mission that's as dangerous as it is rewarding. Our lives are at stake should we fail. If anyone wishes to leave, now's the time."

His gaze swept over the group, meeting each set of eyes. After a moment of charged silence, he infused a note of excitement into his voice, "Excellent. Let's begin. We're planning a heist on one of the most secure gold and valuables storage locations in London, perhaps even the world. We're targeting Gringotts."