[All characters appearing in this work are over the age of 18. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.]
Chapter 3
The hallways inside the school's main building were completely dark, the fluorescent lights having turned off exactly at 8pm. The meticulously trimmed pathways throughout the center of the campus were dimly lit. The ornate lamps found throughout the grounds provided just a hint of illumination beyond the faint cone cast on the ground. It was a starless night as an ominous cloud-cover hung in the sky. Not a soul in sight.
Perfect
, he thought.
Damon hung from the side of the building and gazed at the peaceful scene below him. He was twenty meters up off the ground, and felt the cool gusts of wind wash across his back and shoulders. He turned around and pulled himself higher up onto the ledge. His footing was stable now.
"Alright, give me a status update," a voice said through his wireless earbuds.
"Just enjoying the view," Damon said.
There was a pause.
"You realize we have a very small window to make this happen right?" the annoyed voice replied.
"Calm yourself," Damon said. "This is nothing compared to when we pulled the Boeing job."
He bent his knees and tightened his grip. He crouched, and in one fluid movement, pushed off and easily caught the next ledge with his fingertips.
"Well, don't get cocky. You're beacon says you have another twenty meters to go," said the voice.
He heaved himself up higher to get a stable footing
"Matt, do you want to come up here and do this?" asked Damon.
"I jus-"
"J-j-just shut up, and let me do my thing, yeah?" Damon chided.
In all the years he'd known his partner, they'd not once been able to get through an entire job without going through this same routine. He'd do the heaving lifting, and Matt would fret and squirm behind the keyboard...oh and he'd occasionally help Damon out with the logistics.
He had reached the halfway mark. There were only ten more floors to scale. He stretched out to his side and grasped the exterior power cable strip. The all-weather lining and plastic composite cover that lay over the power lines shot straight up to the roof. It was sturdy enough to support his full weight.
He gave a test pull on the cover. Satisfied with his grip, he released his left hand and swung his body over to straddle the power line. Both hands locked on and his feet were in place. From there he started pulling himself up one step at a time. The wind was starting to really pick up now. His black hoodie fluttered from the gusts that lapped at his back, but his body didn't sway. He'd be fucked if it decided to rain. He shook off those thoughts and continued to pull himself up.
Damon made it just beneath the edge of the roof. The decorative architecture used throughout the exterior of the building provided a plethora of ledges and handholds he could take advantage of. Unfortunately, it also meant the eave of the roof was hanging over the wall he was attached to, creating an acute angle from where he hung. He was going to have to jump if he wanted to get up.
"Made it to the roof edge. I'm going over now," said Damon.
"Copy. Make sure to watch for any pressure sensors on the upper ledge," replied Matt.
Okay, Damon, let's do this,
he thought to himself.
He reached behind him and unclipped the icepick he'd attached to his backpack. With the pick brandished in his right hand he glanced down for a brief moment. His stomach churned. If he fucked up here, the fall would surely kill him. Even worse, he would survive and be a damn quadriplegic for life. He ceased thinking and calmed his mind. He stared at the edge of the roof intensely.
Holding onto the plastic strip with his left hand, he brought his feet up higher, knees close to his chest. He released and pushed off simultaneously. It felt like the world was moving in slow motion. He flew backwards, nearly perpendicular to the ground. Just as his shoulders passed the roof edge his right arm swung around his body. He felt the satisfying crunch of wood, aluminum, and plastic as the steel pick smashed through the lip of the roof.
"Yes!" he gasped in a strained voice.
He brought his left hand up and gripped the edge. There wasn't much to grab onto, but thankfully the icepick was firmly lodged in the roof. A strong gust of wind battered his body and his left hand lost purchase.
"Fuck," he whispered.
"Get your ass in gear Damon, we've got three minutes to make it to the insertion point," said Matt.
"Okay mom," Damon wheezed.
He latched onto the ledge once more. His body hung over the side with nothing beneath him but ground. He swayed his legs back and forth, building momentum. On the last swing, he shot his left leg up and it landed on the roof. He used all his strength to pull the rest of his body up and he twisted to lay flat on the sloped surface.
With a brief sigh of relief, he dislodged the pick and continued working his way up to the top. Finally, he made it to the flat landing at the apex of the roof. He spotted the door he was looking for standing in the middle of the landing.
Damon deftly jumped down onto the rooftop, the white gravel crunching softly beneath his feet. He silently crept to the door making sure to look at the edges of the rooftop for any hidden motion tracking sensors.
He made it to the door and studied the electronic lock connected to the door handle.
"Jesus," Damon said.
"What is it?" Matt's voice came through his earbuds.
