Felicia Hardy, aka the Black Cat, slowly rappelled down the side of the building; the rear alley she had chosen was devoid of streetlights and apparently deserted. The young burglar had waited for almost an hour while hidden in shadows, just to observe any activity in the alley. Her skin-tight costume, which made her almost invisible to the eye, was completely black except for white gloves and boots, with light fur around the low-cut neckline of her costume.
Being patient paid off; there was no activity in the alley, whatsoever. Not only Felicia was a skilled thief, but also a knockout; she had long blonde hair, so light-colored it appeared almost white, falling straight past her shoulders. Also, large blue eyes, full reddish lips just made for sucking cock, a thin waist that gave her a light hourglass figure, large firm but soft breasts, 36C, a perfect tight and round behind and a pair of legs that seemed to reach on forever. She was virtually every guy's fantasy and more.
The young woman was using an Aussie-style rappel rig, allowing her to descend headfirst. When she reached the top floor window, she removed a small, black kit of tools from the black belt she wore around her waist. The strap was now, however, riding on her large breasts due to her upside down position. From the pouch, she retrieved a suction cup and a glasscutter.
After securing the window with the device, just above its lock, the Black Cat used the cutter to slice a circle into the pane. Carefully, she examined the window and the ledge around it, both inside and out, for any type of alarm wires or traps. Felicia sighed in frustration when she found none; she was looking for a challenge. The small threshold provided access to the top floor janitor's closet.
Felicia's lips curled into a devilish smile and she tossed the piece of cut glass down into the alley below. She knew in her heart that the glass would neither shatter nor make any noise, for that was her gift. An uncanny halo of luck which had always shone throughout her life; little 'bad luck tricks' that made numbers fall her way. She blew the glass a kiss and watched it fall on some discarded clothing, in the dumpster below; unharmed and perfectly quiet.
The young woman reached in and unlocked the window. Raising the pane up, she freed herself from the harness around her body. After securing the harness to the building with a strand of electrical tape, she hopped through the open entrance. With that same devilish smile, she exited the janitor's closet to begin her conquest of the building and all items she was assigned to retrieve.
The Black Cat crept through the deserted hallways of the top floor; dark and silent. Clothes, bolts of cloth, hangers and mobile racks littered the hallways and the rooms she had passed. Felicia peeked around a corner and into what appeared to be some sort of sewing room. Mannequins and dress cages stood about the room, waiting for their tailors to return.
Bolts of cloth were stacked on tables and chairs; boxes of what appeared to be sewing kits lay about as well. The vixen crept towards a large room to the front of the building. Her contractor had explained that to keep a low profile, the owner had set up a low-key holding area for the sensitive material. There was to be next to no security, but the safe was going to be one of the best portable ones on the market.
Now that the Black Cat was in the heart of the holding area, the safe would be a welcome challenge, a test for New York's greatest burglar. Felicia prowled into the room; it was a large space with a huge, multi-paned window facing the street. Moonlight poured through, making hundreds of shadow crosses on the hardwood floor. The room was empty except for a waist-high box, covered with some sort of black cloth.
Infrared lenses from her utility belt revealed several alarm-triggering laser beams; fortunately, the concealed rays were high enough off of the floor that the svelte thief could creep under. When she reached the safe, another tech gizmo assured the area around the safe was devoid of additional booby traps, same as the cloth covering the safe. Removing the fabric, the Black Cat sat cross-legged before the safe to begin cracking.
Unexpectedly, the first touch of her fingers to the metal somehow triggered an alternate security protocol; Felicia was engulfed in a grayish cloud of thick gas. She closed her eyes and began coughing, feeling dizzy. The hot burglar staggered to her feet in an attempt to get away from the sinister strongbox, but, in doing so, inevitably tripped the lasers. Although the countermeasures were not connected to alarms, she noticed the toxic cloud increasing its density.
Felicia held her breath and, with squinting eyes, tried to make it to the hallway; the substance was so thick it prevented her from seeing more than a few feet ahead. She could only discern her hands before her as she groped to find the exit. Her chest pounded for air, her muscles lurched. In her desperation, she stumbled and fell to the floor, feeling a sour taste in her mouth.
Jolted by the fall, Felicia gasped involuntarily for breath, taking in lungfuls of the gas-tainted air; her head began to swim. She kept on panting and her body shuddered, severely impairing her motor skills. Rolling onto her back, she tried to catch a glimpse of the skylight. Maybe she could make it fall victim to her 'bad luck tricks', her ability to play with the odds.
If the sky dome or even the windows would crack and shatter, the room would be vented clear of the nerve agent. The ceiling, however, was lost to her as her vision was limited to the length of her arm, only. Felicia panted and gasped on the cold wooden floor, her chest heaved and her breasts sloshed with the quivering of her body. She could feel her eyelids growing heavy and her body giving in to the power of the narcotic. Finally, with a whimper, the Black Cat slipped into unconsciousness.
***
Felicia began to stir, unable to determine how much time she had been out cold. Through the clearing fuzz in her head, she heard the sounds of grunting, and panting. She tried to open her eyes, but she found herself blindfolded; worse, her wrists were tied together behind her back and she was securely bound to a metal chair.
"About time you came to," the Cat heard a low-toned male voice. "For someone with such great fame, you sure are sloppy."
"Who are you?" She wasted no time. "What do you want?"
"I believe you are in no position to be asking questions." The unknown man replied.
"I know people!" Felicia bravely stated. "I can have you killed in a heartbeat!" Unfortunately, she realized threats alone wouldn't get her out of her current situation; she felt a hard, cold metal being pressed against her left temple.
"I'd love to sit here and play with you all night long, but I don't have time for games," he revealed. "I have a work for you, and I strongly advise you to take it."
"You don't get to tell me what to do, weirdo!" The Black Cat yelled; her act of defiance was followed by the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.
"I'm giving you one last chance: in or out," she was given an ultimatum. "What is it going to be?"
Felicia was surprised; during her life of criminal acts, she had to deal with all sorts of scum. Usually, the low-lives were all talk, which posed little difficulty for her. This guy, however, was dead serious; emphasis on the 'dead' part.
"I am listening," Felicia decided not to call his bluff.
"Do you know a man named Nick Katzenburg?" The mysterious man cut to the chase.
