It was meant to be a clean job. From the moment Blackie
started cutting the alarms, it should have taken a mere fifteen minutes to get
in and out with a few hundred million in negotiable, that is to say untraceable,
bearer bonds.
I should have just walked away when Blackie mentioned that
there were more alarms than expected in the basement, but we were heading for
the third floor, so I didn’t bother thinking about it.
I got my hands on the first batch of bonds when Lookout
suddenly screamed into the radio, and then came the horrible munching…
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