Fighting to be Free by Kirsty Moseley (34 page)

“How come you’re only doing this for two months then?” he asked as we climbed on.

“Personal issues. I agreed I’d do it for three months, I have just under two left, then I’m going straight. I have a girl that would hate it if she knew I was into this kind of thing,” I explained, skirting the issue a little.

I sat down at the front of the minibus and was just about to put my bag on the seat next to me when he plopped down in it instead, looking at me curiously. “You’re going straight for a girl?” he asked incredulously.

I laughed at the disbelief that coloured his tone - he obviously loved his work and wouldn’t be giving it up anytime soon, especially for a girl by the looks of it. I could understand that, the rush from boosting was definitely addicting. “I wanted to go straight before I met her, but yeah basically I’d do anything for her.”

He pursed his lips and ran a hand over his short wiry hair, his dark brown eyes locked onto mine.

“She hot?”

I settled into the seat, a smug smile on my face as I thought about just how hot Ellie was. “Smokin’ hot,” I confirmed.

He nodded thoughtfully. “You share?” he asked. I raised one eyebrow and looked at him warningly because he was very close to disrespecting my girlfriend. He recoiled slightly, holding his hands up innocently as he shifted in his seat, putting his feet up on the seat in front of him, getting comfortable. “I’ll take that look as a no,” he muttered.

I closed my eyes, deciding to get half an hour’s sleep on the way to the warehouse. Unfortunately, Vincent/Dodger had other ideas about letting me sleep - instead, he talked the whole damn way there. I had never met a guy that talked as much as him, it was like he had a gossipy little teenager trapped inside his butch masculine exterior. My eyes were stinging by the time we got to our desired destination.

As soon as we pulled up a little way down the road, I was wide awake. I stood up quickly, zipping up my black hoodie and pulling out the ski mask from my bag. Usually for a job like this we would disable the cameras but the guy was paying extra for us to leave them rolling to capture the action.

Apparently, it would help his insurance claim. Whatever, it didn’t bother me either way. I’d made sure that everyone was wearing plain clothing, nothing discernible, plain sneakers, no designer names anywhere. Clothes were to be burned tomorrow as per Brett’s orders.

Turning back to the rabble that were pulling this boost with me tonight, I smiled reassuringly. Now that we were here, the adrenalin was rushing through my veins creating that high that I got off on.

“Masks and gloves on, boys. I’m disabling the sound system in there, but the cameras will still be rolling. Once Vincent-” he cleared his throat next to me, so I rolled my eyes and corrected myself, “Sorry. Once
Dodger
and I have made sure the coast is clear then I’ll call Terry and he’ll open the front gates. No one moves in without my say so. Do exactly as you’ve been told, no hero shit in there or I’ll personally kick your ass,” I said sternly, looking around slowly to make sure they got it.

There was no way I was getting in trouble because some dipshit wanted to be a big shot and do something they shouldn’t. “Wait on the bus then. No one takes off their mask until you’re at least two blocks away.”

I looked down at Vincent and raised one eyebrow. A devilish grin slipped onto his face as he cracked his knuckles and then raised his ski mask to his face. “This had better not mess up my hair,” he joked, winking at me as he pulled it down over his face.

I laughed and pulled mine on too, grabbing my bag and slipping on some latex gloves so we didn’t leave fingerprints. “Let’s go then hotshot,” I teased, nodding at the open minibus door.

We both stepped out into the blackness of the night. The warehouse was about fifty yards ahead, the gates a little beyond that. We didn’t speak as we walked quickly to the darkest part of the perimeter and stopped by the chain link fence. I slung my bag over my shoulder and grabbed the cold metal, immediately starting to climb it. We’d spoken about this a lot on the phone, both of us had been over the plans but it was slightly different having a guy that I didn’t know do this with me, usually I’d be on my own right now. Two people were necessary though, there were two security guards inside, neither of which knew we were coming. I felt a lot better having someone like Dodger with me than one of the other boys; so far he seemed like a pretty decent guy.

I dropped down to the concrete the other side, just seconds before he landed gracefully next to me.

“Silent as a ninja,” he whispered, laughing quietly.

I grinned but punched him in the arm at the same time to tell him to shut up. The guards were stationed on the other side of the warehouse, watching the grounds on little monitors. We’d purposefully chosen this spot to climb because Mr Randall, the owner, had moved one of the cameras by a couple of inches to allow a blind spot. I put my finger to my lips and then nodded to the side of the building. Apparently if we stayed as close as we could to the wall and moved quickly, then we could outsmart the cameras that swung on a continuous sweep to take in the whole area. It just meant getting the timings right and not screwing up.

It took a good ten minutes of stop starting, crouching behind stuff, running, or crawling on our hands and knees to avoid the cameras, but finally we made it to the security door of the warehouse with no alarms going off. Dodger pulled out a lock pick kit, sticking in two metal picks and fiddling with it until the sound of the click filled the air. The door sprung open with a slight creak but it probably wasn’t loud enough to alert anyone.

We moved quickly. As we stepped in I pulled out the gun from my bag, it wasn’t loaded, it was just for show for the cameras. The guy was paying extra for little details - I had a feeling he was a bit of a showman. Dodger didn’t flinch when I pulled it out; apparently he had no problem with guns, that’s what he’d told me on the phone anyway. I pointed down the hallway where the sound of quiet talking could be heard. He nodded and we both made our way there slowly. I kept my eyes peeled for signs of movement but there was nothing at all.

“I see your three and I raise you….. another three,” someone said from the last room on the left. I already knew this was the monitoring station because of the building plans that I’d meticulously been studying for the last week.

“Ooh, confidence. Alright, call,” someone else answered, teasingly.

I smiled because that meant that they were both in there, just like they were supposed to be. I stopped outside the door and risked a quick glance around the frame. Two middle aged, overweight, and bored looking security guards were sitting at a table. Cards and matches littered the desk in front of them as they sat opposite each other, holding playing cards. Neither of them were even facing the monitors and I felt a pang of annoyance that Vincent and I had just done our mission impossible impression for nothing if they weren’t even looking.

I could see the cards of the guy sitting on the left; he had two pair, pretty good hand. I nodded to Dodger and stepped around the corner, raising my gun. “I’d save my matches if I were you, he’s got two pair, tens over eights,” I joked, pointing my gun at the one on the right. He gasped, dropping his cards on the floor, his eyes wide as he looked at me, shocked; his half eaten doughnut was frozen on its way to his mouth.

The one on the left lunged for a red button that was mounted under the monitors. I moved quicker than he did though and smashed the gun into the side of his temple, knocking him out cold immediately. He slumped forward, his face connecting heavily with the wooden desk. I turned back to the other guard who hadn’t moved the whole time; his doughnut was still in exactly the same place as when I stepped into the room.

“Right then, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way, which would you prefer?” Dodger asked, pulling out a long strip of duct tape and grinning wickedly.

“What do you want?” the guy croaked in response.

I laughed and pointed to the monitor that was in the middle, it was making a sweep of the inside of warehouse three, housing ten perfect, brand spanking new Jaguars that were ready for sale. “Those little babies,” I cooed.

He gulped as Dodger stepped forward. His doughnut finally dropped from his hand as he stepped backwards and fell into his chair, a wild and frightened look in his eyes.

As Dodger taped the guy to the chair, securing his hands behind his back and his feet to the plastic, I got to work on the security. I grabbed the guy that I’d knocked out and pushed him into a chair, wheeling him away from me as I sat on the floor, leaning under the desk and yanked off the covering for the security wires. It took a while to find the right one, the damn thing had more wires than I was expecting, but I finally found the audio feed, cutting the wire quickly. I made a show of cussing for good measure, slamming my hand on the desk in apparent frustration. This was all for show though, I needed the guy to think I couldn’t disable the cameras otherwise they’d wonder why I disconnected the audio and not the visual feed.

When I was satisfied, I pushed myself out from under the desk and turned to the now crying security guard who was all taped up like a Christmas present. “You know how to disable the visual?” I asked him.

He shook his head quickly, his eyes becoming tight.

I turned back to Vincent. “I can’t do it. We’re gonna have to leave it on. The audio’s gone but…..” I trailed off, acting as best I could. The guard would have a pretty little tale to tell the police in the morning now which is exactly what the client wanted.

Vincent shrugged. “Let’s just get this done. No one will know it’s us anyway. Let’s get the cars and get out,” he replied, securing the other, unconscious guy to a chair too. “I’m done here.”

I nodded, picking up my bag from the floor where I left it and turned to the conscious guard. I smiled apologetically and raised the gun, bringing the butt of it down on the side of his head just hard enough to send him off into slumber, but not cause any long-term damage.

As we stepped out of the room, Vincent held up his hand for a high five. I grinned and slapped my hand against his victoriously. The rest was the fun part - the boosting the little things of beauty.

Once we got to the room where the ten cars were parked I stopped and just let my eyes rake over the beautiful sight before me. My gaze settled on the C-X75, these things weren’t even for sale yet.

I groaned as my mouth actually filled with saliva at the sight of it. “That’s mine,” I mumbled.

Dodger grinned and shrugged immediately walking up to the side of a XKR-S convertible.

“Whatever. You can keep your eco car, I want this!” he chirped, running his hand over the hood in awe.

I grinned and pulled out my cell phone, dialling Terry and telling him the coast was clear. The guys were cutting the lock on the front gates and coming in that way - that would be the way we would leave too, driving straight out the front. I moaned in appreciation of being in the same room with all these cars. I literally couldn’t wait to get my hands on them.

“Let’s get to work then,” I suggested, rubbing my hands together excitedly as I unzipped my bag and reached inside for my tools. Dodger grinned and followed suit, I would imagine that my eyes looked just as excited as his did in that moment.

By the time the others entered the warehouse, seven of the cars were already sitting there, engines running, ready to go. Jaguars were easy pickens; we’d be home free in less than five minutes. The guys all stood around, not really knowing what to do with themselves, well, some of them did anyway, some of them, the more experienced ones, were already standing by their chosen car waiting for the sign to say they could go.

Dodger and I were the only ones boosting tonight because the cars were being immediately shipped off, there was no margin for error tonight, no scratches would be allowed because someone had been too forceful. Everything had to go perfect - which meant I was going to have a busy night indeed.

When I started the final car that I was working on, I pushed myself out of the seat and walked up to the group that were talking in hushed whispers. They all quietened as I approached and looked at me with expectant eyes.

I nodded. “All ready to go. No one touches that,” I pointed to my car of choice, “that’s mine. You know your routes, stick to the plan and keep it legal. Straight back to the meeting point using your route you’ve been assigned,” I instructed. All of us were headed in slightly different directions to get back to Brett tonight; it would look slightly obvious with ten brand new Jags driving down the street in a neat little line. “Go. See you all back there.” I nodded to the cars and they all ran to their chosen cars. Dodger was sitting in his, running his hands over the wheel appreciatively.

I walked to the sliding garage door and grabbed the bolt cutters, positioning them around the lock and clamping down tight. When the lock and chain chinked to the floor, I raised the door and stepped back as they filed out of the warehouse in turn.

I let everyone go first and just sat in my car, taking in the expensive smell of the new leather. The mileage counter only read four, and that was probably just the test run in the factory when it was made. It was beautiful.

Dodger leant out of his window as he inched forward so he was level with me. I wound down the window and looked at him expectantly. “You really think you’ll be able to give up the buzz that you get from this shit? You look like you’re having a car-gasm. Don’t jizz on the seats,” he joked, winking at me before pulling out laughing to himself.

I laughed too and followed behind him, turning left at the gates like I was supposed to. He flashed his hazard lights at me as a goodbye as we both went in separate directions.

The hours passed quickly. Vincent/Dodger was proving to be more than an asset to the team. He was a great guy and the couple of cars that I’d worked on with him, he was a total pro too. The dude couldn’t stop talking though, that was the only fault I could see, but at least he was funny with it.