“Well,” Cole Danvers muttered as he lowered himself from where his hands grasped the line strung from the ceiling three meters up, “this is going sideways fast.”
This hadn’t exactly been the plan. The plan had been clean and simple. Rodrick dispelled the wards around the building. Tish rerouted the alarms. Mace stood watch outside, either distracting or, if necessary, dissuading any security patrols. And Cole and Lorelei stealthed their way in, walked soundlessly down the hall that could no longer see or sense them, and waltzed right up to the display case, where they proceeded to pick the lock and remove their prize.
That was what they’d mapped out.
Only, it had turned out the wards were a lot more complex than they’d been led to believe. A lot more complex than a low-level bureaucratic building in what had been the Ute sector really warranted. There were a lot more alarms, too. A lot more. Not everywhere, though. The regular office areas were fine, just the standard door alarms and motion sensors that got switched on when the last worker left and the lights went off. But the main corridor, perhaps because it was lined on both sides with display cases that presumably had some significance, value, or both, had alarms every few feet, and not just motion sensors. It also had temperature, light, magic, and metal sensors.
And of course, the prize was displayed in a case midway down that corridor.
As a result, it’d taken Rodrick three times as long as they’d allotted to either dispel, trick, or break the various wards. Tish had been working furiously at the same time, and had managed to spoof or short out or turn off all the alarms as well.
They hoped.
But that meant they were way behind schedule. They’d expected to have two hours to leisurely stroll through and acquire the piece.
Instead, they had ten minutes.
And they couldn’t be one hundred percent sure they’d found everything.
So they’d had to come up with a new plan on the fly. Rodrick and Tish were supposed to be safely outside in the van, out of sight and ready to cover their tracks as soon as Cole and Lorelei returned. Now they had to be inside, closer to the systems they were each trying to counter.
Which meant Cole and Lorelei had been forced to herd the elf and the dwarf into the building, guiding the novice thieves through the more mundane elements of breaking into a secure site, and keeping them from setting off anything from sheer clumsiness and inexperience.
Then they’d had to set the two up in a pair of adjoining cubicles while they headed toward the main corridor, trusting that neither the mage nor the decker would do something to put the whole building on lockdown and leave them all trapped and waiting for the police to arrive.
Trust, Cole had learned, was a dangerous, dangerous thing.
“What the hell did they do?” he demanded when the alarms had begun to blare and the steel mesh had slammed down across the door they had just been reaching for. He jerked his hand back just in time to keep from losing his fingers to the descending barrier.
“Doesn’t matter,” Lorelei had pointed out beside him, sounding just as frustrated as he felt. “What’s done is done. All we can do now is try to figure out how to get around it.”
Cole had sighed, but nodded at his partner’s comment. She was right. They’d find out later which of the other pair had set something off. And what. And how.
Assuming they all survived to regroup and discuss it.
For now, they had to figure out a way into what had been an office corridor and was now a deadly steel box, lined with lasers and who knew what other deterrents designed to keep them from getting anywhere near their goal. They wouldn’t be able to take even one step through that place without getting sliced and diced, and that was assuming they could even get past the doors.
But—one step. Hmm. Cole had backed up a pace and studied the ceiling in the office hallway around them. It was a standard drop-panel style, the panels forming an acoustic barrier to help keep the noise of so many people walking and talking and typing and working from becoming a distraction.
Above those tiles would be a support frame to hold them in place, and then above that would be the actual ceiling proper.
That was something he could probably work with.
Tapping Lorelei on the shoulder, he’d pointed up. She’d frowned, her eyes following his gesture, but then she’d smiled.
“Yeah,” she’d agreed. “Let’s give that a shot. Nobody ever thinks to look up.”
They’d backtracked a little further, into the nearest cubicle, and from there they’d hopped up on the desk. It held Lorelei’s slight figure just fine, but creaked ominously when Cole added his own weight. It wasn’t his size, he knew, but the mechanical components built into him—even with lightweight metals, they still gave his slim figure a disproportionate heft. Fortunately, the desk had held, and it shouldn’t have to support both of them for very long.
Cole had extended his hands upward—the advantage of some of those same mechanical systems—and had gently punched one of the tiles up and out of the way.
Lorelei had turned to him with a smirk. “Give a girl a hand up?” she’d asked with that slow, sensual smile she knew perfectly well he couldn’t resist.
He hadn’t been sure exactly what she’d meant—his arms were strong enough to support him even at full extension but he didn’t have much to grab onto up there—but nodded anyway. He’d nearly fallen over from surprise when she threw her arms around his neck, wrapped her legs around his waist, kissed him—and then stretched upward, both hands on his extended forearm, both legs shifting and pushing her higher, and shimmied up his arm like it was a fire pole.
Feeling her lithe form gliding over and then past him, watching the smooth play of muscles beneath her silky skin, had been far too distracting. But Cole still hadn’t turned away.
Instead he’d made sure to keep his hand latched onto the support strut beside the shifted tile. It probably wasn’t enough to hold his weight, but it seemed to be bearing Lorelei’s well enough for the moment, though that was probably because her weight was actually dispersed along his arm and the rest of his body.
Within seconds she had reached the ceiling, and was grasping onto the struts herself, though she still had her legs folded around Cole’s arm as she stuck her head up and through the opening. “Looks clean,” she’d called down, her voice muffled by the tiles. “I doubt the tiles will hold us, and not so sure about the grid either, but it’s wide enough, and I’m not seeing any sensors.”
Which made sense, actually. The only things likely to be moving through that space between tiles and ceiling were rats, and the building personnel wouldn’t want alarms blaring every time a rodent went darting past.
“Try this,” he’d suggested, digging at the pack he’d slung over his shoulder. He’d extracted what looked like pair of a disks with handles set into them, and had passed them up to her with his other hand.
“Magnetic grapples? I doubt they’ll help much—this ceiling looks like standard plaster, not metal.”
“Sure, but there’s got to be support beams,” he’d replied. “Those’ll be either metal themselves or wood with metal studs. I’ve souped up the magnets on those things, so they should be strong enough to get a solid grip even through the plaster. And they’re powerful enough that one can support my weight, once they’re latched on.”
He could tell she was still skeptical, but she hadn’t had any better ideas so she’d given it a try.
And had let out a soft yelp of surprise when the first grapple had clamped on. “It worked!” He could just make out her giving the grapple a good tug. “And it’s solid. Nice!” But she’d glanced back down at him, her pretty features twisted into a frown. “But there are only two of them, and two of us, and we’re each going to need two so we can advance.”
Cole had thought about that, too, and he’d come up with what he hoped was a viable solution. “There’s another way,” he’d answered slowly. “I think. It’s going to be a little tricky, tho
ugh, and it’ll be slow going.” Then he’d explained what he had in mind.
“That’s crazy,” Lorelei had replied at once. But she’d grinned as she said it, and she’d laughed. “I’m up for a little crazy right now.”
So she’d set the second grapple and then transferred all of her weight to the first one as Cole latched onto the second. He’d jumped off the desk, the surface groaning again from the weight, and then reeled himself in, retracting his hand into its forearm housing so his entire body was lifted toward the ceiling. And the grapple he was already clutching.
Once he was up there, his head and shoulders above the tiles, he’d smiled at Lorelei. “Ready?”
She nodded, and without a word reached over and again wrapped her arms around his neck. “I think you just wanted an excuse,” she said teasingly as she switched all her weight to him.
Cole had smiled at that, and kissed her quickly, in part because he could and in part so she wouldn’t see how concerned he actually was. He knew the single grapple could support him—he’d used them several times, and of course the standard method was to hold one as you detached the other and slid it out ahead of you, then switched to that one so you could move the first one again—but his and Lorelei’s combined weight was probably pushing it to its limits. He’d have to be quick.
Reaching out with his free arm, he’d grabbed hold of the second grapple and detached it. Then, still holding it firmly, he’d extended his arm as far as it would go, and planted the grapple there.
Next he’d reached into his pack again and retrieved the coil of tightly woven hemp rope he kept there. Only as thick around as a pencil, it was strong enough to hold easily three times his own weight.
Now came the tricky part. Normally, Cole would have attached a smaller clamp to the cord’s end. But the clamp wouldn’t work with the grapple—the two magnetic fields didn’t interact properly—and he’d only now realized he should have tied the cord before moving the grapple. He could pull the grapple back and start again, but they didn’t really have time for that. He had to tie the cord securely to the grapple where it was.
Using only one hand.
It wasn’t the easiest thing he’d ever done, but fortunately it wasn’t the hardest either, and after a minute he’d managed to tie a good solid knot. A sharp tug had confirmed that it would hold. Then he’d handed Lorelei the other end, and she’d quickly knotted it around the closer grapple.
Now they had a line stretching from one to the other, and their weight would be distributed across the two grapples.
And the space between the ceiling and the tiles was enough for them to wrap arms and legs around the line and shimmy their way across.
Lorelei had gone first, of course. Cole had followed, refusing to let himself be distracted any further by the sight of her gliding ahead of him. It had only taken a minute to reach the second grapple, and then Cole had grasped it firmly with one hand, twisting his body into a cross-legged, hunched position so he could still fit above the tiles. Lorelei slung herself into his lap, her arms around his neck again as he’d reached back, detached the first grapple, brought it to them, and then twisted so that he could sling it past him and connect to the ceiling farther down.
And then they’d resumed their sideways climb.
Halfway through that second leg, they’d passed the wall separating the office area from the main corridor. Fortunately, as Cole had hoped, the wall above the drop ceiling hadn’t been completely finished—why bother, when you knew that area wouldn’t be visible to anyone but maintenance?—and had been nothing more than a bare panel. Cole hung there, waiting like a hungry spider on its line, as Lorelei extracted a small laser from her belt and had used that to cut a hole through the panel in front of her.
And, again as they’d hoped, no new alarms went off. Those were all set in the corridor itself, down below the drop ceiling. The area up here had been completely ignored.
Lorelei carefully removed the piece she’d cut away, setting it gently atop several tiles so it wouldn’t fall through, and they’d resumed their trek. Both of them had been keeping track of the distance as best they could, and they’d only gone a few meters into the third leg when Lorelei had stopped. “It should be right about here.”
Cole nodded. That matched what he’d been tracking, as well. Sliding forward, he’d nudged her past the spot a little so he was directly above it. Then, his legs coiled around the line to support him, he’d reached down past his head and slid the tile out of the way.
Sure enough, he was looking down onto the main corridor. And even from here he could see the display cases lining the walls to either side. From their earlier reconnaissance he knew they held various holopics and certificates and medals and other small objects.
And, nestled among the rest, the amulet that was their target.
“Do you have another line?” Lorelei had asked, but Cole shook his head. “You could stick your hand out and I could slide down your arm again,” she’d suggested next. But without something to grab hold of, Cole wouldn’t be able to support her weight adequately. And if she fell, she’d wind up right in the middle of all the alarms and wards Rodrick and Tish had supposedly shut off, but were now probably back on.
“It has to be me,” he told her instead. “I can lower myself down, look around, see what’s been deactivated and what’s still hot. If it’s clear, I can get you down then—with my feet on the ground it’ll be easy.”
“And if it’s not?” she’d asked. They both knew she was far better at disabling locks and alarms than he was.
He’d just shrugged. “Then I’ll improvise.”
Now, hanging from both hands, Cole glanced around—and his eyes went straight to a small, blinking red light almost directly across from him.
A light that was very clearly an alarm, and that also very clearly had just detected his presence.
“Okay,” he muttered. “Time to improvise.”
* * *
2
A second light blinked into existence beside the first, and Cole winced. From years of studying security systems—so he could circumvent them—he knew exactly what that meant.
The first light was the sensor.
The second? That was a laser—rare, and expensive, and completely out of place here, but what wasn’t? He was sure that’s what it was, though.
Which meant he had only seconds to act.
Not enough time to pull himself back up, so instead he let go. With one hand, anyway. That shifted his weight, and he swung to the side—
—just as a beam of ruby light pierced the air right where he had been an instant before.
The beam only lasted a few seconds before winking out again, which gave Cole a brief respite as the laser recharged. But that would probably only be a few seconds at most. He had to get out of its path before then.
Lunging with his free hand, he managed to grasp the line again and start hauling himself upward. The laser fired again just as his legs were in its path, but he must have been twisting around just enough because he didn’t feel a sudden, searing pain as a beam pierced flesh and bone. A second later he was clear, and then he was back up above the tiles, safely wrapped around the line.
“That didn’t look good,” Lorelei commented once he’d stopped swaying. She’d managed to reverse her position so her head was next to his, her feet pointing ahead toward the farther grapple while his were aimed at the one behind them. “For a second there, I thought I might need to start shopping for a new partner.”
“Nice to know you care.” Cole leaned forward to wipe his brow against his forearm. But the motion caused his entire body to contort—and in the process, a small screw sprang loose from one of his many pockets.
“No!” Lorelei shouted, lunging for the stray disc, but her grasping fingers just missed it as the screw plummeted, gaining speed as it fell past them and out into the main corridor.
Cole could only watch, cursing silently, as it activated sensor after sensor in its descent
.
The first laser missed it entirely.
The second caught its upper edge, carving a thin sliver off to drift down after the rest.
The third hit the screw just below the head, slicing that off so two pieces were now falling, a cap and a small cone.
The fourth was dead-center, slicing the body of the screw down the middle.
The fifth was waiting when the screwhead hit it, and neatly bisected that tiny dome, leaving two hemispheres to flutter to either side.
Apparently the remaining pieces were too small for the sensors to detect, because they didn’t trigger any additional attacks on the last of their trip to the ground.
“That could’ve been us,” Lorelei pointed out as they both stared down at the fallen coin. “Heck, it almost was you. When I find out what Rodrick and Tish messed up to switch everything back on, I’m going to—”
But Cole wasn’t listening. Instead his eyes were still fixed on the bits of screw down below, and on what had happened to it as it fell. And on what that might mean for the lasers it attracted, their battery packs, and his and Lorelei’s own safety.
“Quick,” he whispered. “Do you have any data sticks on you?”
“What, you want to reprogram the lasers? I don’t think that’s how those things work, do you?”
“Data sticks,” he said, ignoring her quip. “Or anything else around that size and weight.” He was already digging in his own pockets, drawing out a handful of odds and ends like more screws, nuts, washers, and clips. You never knew when stuff like that might come in handy.
Lorelei grumbled but a second later she handed over a small assortment of her own, data sticks and clips but also safety pins, barrettes, and a tiny tin of lip balm. “Stealing things makes my lips dry,” she said with a shrug when he shot her a questioning glance.
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