We swung around the block, and John slowed long enough for me to slip out. Dressed in black and with a ski mask pulled over my face, I was almost impossible to see unless close to one of the streetlights positioned every other block around the area. I tapped the small microphone attached to the front of my sweater. “Radio check.” A click in my earpiece signaled John’s reception of my message.
Moving slowly, I catfooted it to the back of the target. Wilbur had gotten information about this particular place. They used the Melrose Security Company, and had a vehicle drive by every other hour. Their last visit had been fifteen minutes ago, which left me plenty of time to do what I’d come for.
I slipped on a pair of night vision goggles when I was close to the rear door. A quick study showed it was a simple Callan lock. I didn’t have a master key, but these were easy to open with a pick. An external jack on the wall to the left side of the door beckoned. Taking a small device with a plug attached, I inserted it into the jack. Once connected, I pushed the tiny button on it and unlimbered my lock picks.
The gizmo was now bleeding energy off into a small capacitor it had. Once filled, I could push the button again and send a surge of electricity into the home. This would shut down the electronic security device that protected doors and windows for sixty seconds. The security outfit would probably just be noticing it was down when it would re-boot automatically, at least according to Wilbur.
I’d just gotten into position when there was a quiet “pop” that let me know the capacitor was full. Thirty seconds later the lock yielded to my efforts. I pushed the button, hearing a double click when the door’s security system went down. Within seconds I was inside, holding still until there was a “Clack” when the system came back on.
A quick scan of the entryway showed no other defenses to worry about, as I did my slow walk through the 1700 square foot home. Not a bad place. Two bedrooms, large office, and huge living room. I gave both bedrooms a looksee, finding a metal box under a bed in the second bedroom. The sturdy Yale lock on the box would normally have given me fits, but I had a master key for all the larger Yales. Inside were three finger drives and a stack of money. I couldn’t help myself when one packet of hundreds found its way into my shoulder bag. I exchanged the finger drives for blank ones, hoping no one noticed for the next couple weeks. Hopefully we’d be done with this particular crew by then.
The office seemed like a typical one, with a locked cabinet that only yielded up tax files and other business records. The desk seemed deeper than normal. Sure enough, there were file drawers on the backside of the desk, holding transaction forms with no names as to whom they’d dealt with. Not much good without a code. Disappointing. I took pictures of the last two months of data with my phone camera.
My mind twanged. I ducked behind the desk, all senses alert. An impression of movement from a window behind the desk–I slipped over to it, and did a slow scan of the outside. Nothing. No movement. Well, crap. Must’ve been a piece of paper or something blowing by outside in the breeze. Wasn’t like me to be ducking at shadows. Better finish up and get out of here. I unfastened the phone line from the wall and slipped a connector into the hole, then plugged the line back in. Now Wilbur could listen in on all the calls.
Luckily the computer part of my work was easy. I turned on the computer and when it asked for the password, I inserted a thumb drive. After thirty seconds I took it out, shut down the computer and vamoosed. Getting out was simpler, since I only had to find the wall-mounted security box next to the door and push a button on it. Gave me thirty seconds to get out, which I did. I tapped on the mike attached to my sweater. “All done.” That should get John headed to our rendezvous.
While still in the shadows I stopped, completing a 360 scan before striding off. Nothing. I shrugged. Now to the neighborhood bar. Hope I caught up with John while he was still sober enough to drive.
* * *
“Trust me, this’ll work. I guarantee it,” Marty said with a satisfied smile.
Two days had passed since John headed back to San Francisco, and we’d gotten stuck on how to break into the most promising place left on the list.
I shifted around again. “Having a hooker entertain the guard sounds good, but the question remains. When his boss gets back from the trip he went on, the guard might get suspicious if he finds out it wasn’t one of his cronies that set him up. And would he be distracted long enough to get the job done?” I shrugged. “Not sure it’s worth the risk.”
Wilbur started to raise his hand, but caught himself. “I’ve gotta remind you, it’s only a rumor they were talking with Willie concerning the counterfeit bills they got from the North Koreans. Can’t find anything solid to go on.”
Marty shrugged. “Yeah, but they’re the only ones we know of that deal in large amounts of counterfeit bills.”
I nodded at Wilbur. “You’re right, of course. But if you wanted to get rid of the fake money, this group would probably do it pretty quickly. They’ve got a network in place to spread out the bills. More expensive to use ‘em, but still, they’ve got a reputation for getting it done.”
Let’s give this one a little more thought,” Tony said, scratching his chest. “If nothing else, we could do the old ‘hi, I’m from
