Thief in the Twilight

Swimming With Sharks

"What do you see?"

"That's just it. There's nothing to see."

I resist the urge to grab El and shake her.

"Not useful," I growl while simultaneously giving her side-eye from behind dark glasses. She shrugs, confusion written plainly in her expression. I sigh and relent. "Please, padawan, explain."

"I can't explain it any better. I mean, all the buildings around it have an aura of their own or pick up one from the people coming in and out. But the bank, the bank doesn't have one. It's like I'm wearing my glasses to blind myself to the resonance. Whatever is causing the effect, it covers those entering as well. They sort of, disappear, resonance wise anyway, once they step inside. This is a completely new experience for me." Cocking her head, she lifts her camera, hesitates, and then lowers it again, obviously not seeing a point in taking the shot. "Is it worth the film to capture?"

"Take a couple. At worst we'll have a reference for what we're hitting. If we're lucky, the photos and description might trigger an idea from someone else. And stop looking to me for answers. They have to think you're in charge once we're in there."

"Right." The rapid whirs and clicks of the camera follow me as I move to a lamppost and lean against it, waiting on El and her art. The bank looms on the other side of the road, a couple of blocks down from where we stand. The sun is just starting to cut through the morning cloud cover, indicating we're coming up on the time of our mid-morning meeting with Percival Lancaster. Bea had played manager, agent or whatever it was photographers had, for us the day before, calling on El's behalf to set up the meeting.

This was our way to see inside the target. Now we just needed to make something of the opportunity.

I noted the camera sounds had stopped and El drew up beside me, her elbow bumping mine as she adjusted her short leather jacket, going for the semi-professional look. I ignored it and took in the bank's appearance. It wasn't anything spectacular, appearing to be little more than a three-story brownstone dominating much of the block it stood on. If I was honest, it was more like four stories, or so the plans we had seen told us. They indicated the ground floor stretched up two floors, providing an expansive atrium in which the main banking hall stood. No true plans existed for the vault levels, but rumours were that they stretched an equivalent depth below ground.

I squared my shoulders. "You good on the plan?"

"Yes, yes. Nothing abnormal about any of this. Just another commission. Play the happy-snappy artist, photograph everything and everyone I'm able and keep an eye out for our targets. And if I do spot them, make sure to get them front and centre." The cheek was not altogether unwarranted. We had gone over this again and again. Eventually, I had had to call a stop to things when it became clear El was responding in her sleep. Of course, neither was it quite that simple, but the gist was there.

"Okay then," my voice raised an octave as I prepared to get into character. "Lead on, MacDuff."

El preceded me at the lights, her camera and messenger bag settling naturally as she walked. I was less put together, still unhappy with the arrangement of the remaining gear we had brought. I knew just enough to understand the need for the extra lenses, film and sundries, but not why El felt she needed it all.

Along with her kit, I also carried my sketch pad and pencils, a holdover from scouting jobs while pretending to be an art student. I had learnt to eye-ball the dimensions and angles of areas of interest and could sketch what I needed to work from reasonably quickly. Slipping back into that routine would further help to calm my nerves now and later. Knowing those details, having the numbers to work with; it was better for my nerves than any pill.