The empty briefcase thumped hollowly against her stockinged legs. She weaved her way down the crowded city streets, passing between people like water between rocks. She stopped suddenly outside of the high-rise doors, backtracking several steps. Her long silver nails pulled down her tinted sunglasses, her shocking orange eyes surveying the building over the tops of the plastic frames.
After her momentary perusal of the structure, she pushed the glasses back up her nose, brushing her silver hair over her shoulder before pushing the stainless steel doors open and entering.
It must’ve been at this point that she turned on the signal disruptor she had hidden in her coat pocket. The security cameras for the lobby shorted out as soon as her heel shod foot crossed the threshold.
I tossed the useless footage away from me. One square slid off the top of the pile and off the end of the desk, clattering to the floor with a plastic cry. I ignored it, spooling through the street footage until–
She reappeared, shifting the now heavy briefcase from one hand to the other. Her spindly hand goes through her hair again – you’d never guess she had just killed nine men and stolen one billion credits.
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