Selina bolted across the rooftops belonging to an assortment of rundown apartment blocks, flipping across the gaps between them. Cold flakes landed on her red lips and rosy cheeks, the blankets of snow covering the roofs made it all the more necessary for her to watch where she planted her feet, knowing she wouldn't be able to live down the embarrassment if anyone happened to witness the infamous Catwoman suffering a pratfall of all things.
A virtual snowstorm was hardly ideal for one of Selina's heists, and there was nothing she wanted more than to be curled up in front of a fireplace, enjoying a glass of warm milk and the flickering flames of a log fire. But Selina was never one to take a day off from work, even during the Christmas season. Jewellery was always a go-to gift for couples, which meant that gold and diamonds flooded into the city during the month of December in vast quantities, transported using armoured vehicles with heavily armed convoys to ward off Gotham's career criminals.
Ordinarily, Selina would never consider touching the irresistible shipments whenever they rolled through the city's streets, all on their way to the jewellery stores and shopping malls hoping to make a killing. Unlike her better funded competitors, she lacked the resources and equipment necessary to pull off a successful holdup, and she took her craft far too seriously to resort to using guns or bladed weapons; it simply wasn't sporting.
However, to Selina's astonishment, the GCPD was at the top of their game for once, working around the clock to round up the gangs suspected of plotting raids on the convoys. Selina's competition rapidly dwindled, until she was one of the few professional thieves left not spending a short stint at Blackgate. Weeks passed and the trucks all moved through the streets of Gotham untouched, and the size of the armed crews that joined them dwindled drastically.
While most of Gotham's citizens were busy planning for Christmas, rushing around malls and department stores buying up any last minute presents they could get their hands on, Selina spent her time locked away in her apartment planning for what would become her masterpiece. Selina quickly hashed out a plan, donning every disguise she had tucked away in her closet to observe the trucks as they passed by, taking extensive notes of their regular routes and the stops they took in between.
Targeting them at random was far too risky, Selina knew better than anyone that the Falcones and Maronis had a stake in the valuable cargo and often stowed hired goons in the rear storage compartments of the transporters as an added measure of protection. She wasn't an amateur, the target had to be absolutely perfect, allowing her to disappear into the blizzard, covered from head to toe in glittering jewels and gems without so much as a shot being fired.
After a week of stalking, Selina eventually found the perfect mark. She identified a truck that was almost three decades old, covered in rust and the fading decals belonging to the security company that owned and operated it, built without the ceramic plates that made its modern counterparts impenetrable fortresses on wheels. Its cargo was hardly the motherload, but she'd seen too many talented cat burglars fall victim to their own hubris over the years, foiled when they punched above their weight. Selina was ambitious, but that didn't mean she felt that she had anything to prove.
Selina dashed along the roof of an old shoe store, running parallel with the street below. Her jet-black latex catsuit allowed her to blend in with the night sky, rendering her almost invisible to those who didn't know where to look. She skidded to a stop at one corner of the building and lowered herself to a crouch, flicking her eyes towards an old clocktower as she observed the intersection below. As if by magic, the battered truck rolled up to a red light as soon as the the bell chimed.
"There you are, kitten," Selina licked her lips, seeing the traffic light flash its amber glow. "Don't worry, Selina's coming for you."
The light turned green and the truck lurched, heading straight on in the direction of a parade of stores that were either derelict or in the process of closing down. Selina sprang into action and followed the truck, running at breakneck speed to keep up as it travelled along without any traffic to impede its progress. Launching her whip, Selina wrapped it around the arm of a crane that was once used to hoist goods onto the backs of flatbeds. Selina leapt over the edge of the roof and gripped the handle of her whip, curling in mid-air towards the lumbering vehicle. The whip released itself and Selina soared through the chilly air, landing gracefully on the flat roof of the truck, barely making a sound as she casually rolled onto her back and crossed her legs, waiting for the driver and sole occupant to unknowingly spring her trap.
The armoured truck continued on its journey for another half hour, and Selina was happy to peacefully watch the city pass by, occasionally filing her steel-tipped nails to ensure they were as razor sharp as ever. The driver took a final turn and gradually slowed down, its runflat tyres crunched the fresh snowdrift and left behind a trail of slush until the truck parked up in a narrow alley. The yellow cones of light pouring from the headlights died away once the engine chugged abruptly and fell silent, leaving the flickering lamp posts running along the cramped back alley as the only remaining source of light.
Selina glanced around, recognising a pair of towers rising high into the sky as the last remains of the Wayne Plaza, a housing project founded by Thomas Wayne as a means of dealing with Gotham's housing crisis during the 70s. Just like everything else that was once good about Gotham, the towers fell into disrepair, which only worsened following the passing of Thomas. The state of the towers that were once architectural marvels didn't shock Selina, Gotham had a habit of swallowing up anything worth a damn and spitting it back out.
Selina sat up at the sound of the cab door being thrown open, crawling to the edge of the roof to see the driver leaping out. He was on the larger side, standing at six feet tall and wearing a uniform that poorly fit his frame and was littered with odd stains and marks, complete with a navy blue cap that sat upon his balding head. The driver hacked out a cough and spat on the ground, striking a match as he paced in front of the cab, lighting one of his cheap cigarettes. He staggered over to a nearby trashcan and pulled down the zipper of his creased slacks, drawing his cock out to relieve himself after hours of non-stop driving.
With his gun still holstered and his cigarette relaxing him enough to lower his guard, he couldn't have been an easier target for the latex-clad cat burglar, whose nails tapped contemplatively against the metal roof. A small glint appeared when Selina's perfectly white teeth came into sight, and her smile was more than self-assured.
"Hard day?" Selina purred, sprawled enticingly across the roof.
"Wha-?" the driver's cigarette butt fell from his lips as he fumbled around to withdraw his pistol. Whipping it out, he twisted around and aimed it at the source of the seductive voice, bemused by the presence of the woman who was a frequent guest on the GCPD's most wanted board. "What're you doin' here?"
"Oh, I was just out for a night on the town, doing some window shopping. I love Gotham during the winter season, the snow covers up a lot of the unpleasantness," Selina slid one thigh across the other, showing no concern whatsoever for the pistol that was trained on her. "Care to tell me what you're doing here? Wayne Plaza isn't the sort of place you want to stop for a cigarette break, not unless you're a fan of getting stabbed with a rusty knife by one of the addicts that hang around here."
"Takin' a piss," the driver responded crudely, keeping Selina framed by the iron sights of his pistol. "Been drivin' around since yesterday mornin'. You're that Catgirl that keeps appearing in the papers."
"Catwoman, darling," Selina corrected him in a haughty tone, swinging her legs over the edge of the roof to assume a sitting position. "But to answer your question, yes, I am. The one and only. And who might you be, my scruffy friend?"
"Burt," he cocked his weapon, fully aware of deceptively calm woman's agility based on the grainy videos he had seen of her on the news reels. "You here to steal the jewels?"
