Devil to Pay - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by Sov Rin
Last updated: 01/02/2007 02:01:11 AM

Chapter 1

A shrill bell echoed through the rapidly emptying school halls, he listened as the chattering crowds thinned into silence and gave way to just the murmer of voices from the classroom who's vent he was currently occupying. He looked down through the grill, careful to move nothing but his eyes. A pretty little thing was murdering the French language with disconcerting enthusiasm.

"Jooo vooodray oon, um, like, glassy silvooos.."

"Enough!" The pained expression of the teacher he couldn't see, but the near horror in her tone suggested it was most certainly there. "Miss Pryde I do believe you may have discovered an entirely new form of torture, please sit down"

For a moment it looked as though the femme was about to reply. But her lips thinned against whatever comment she was thinking of making and she retook her seat, staring at the desk top intently as the sniggers of the others in the class died away.

He felt a faint sympathy for her, but it didn't last long. He had a job to do, not highschool kids to feel sorry for. Besides it looked like she was getting sympathy enough from the stealthy passage of notes progressing towards her desk.

A thief's eye trained the origins of their source more from habit than anything. One from a goth girl sat in the very farthest corner looking pale and interesting. Well, that was the job of a goth. The other from a boy he could barely see through the small square window on the room the vent made. Just a vague impression of a reedy thin figure with a mop of brown hair.

But he hadn't chosen this vent for it's superb view of the comedy stylings of the french class, as the sound of a door slamming swiftly reminded him as it echoed down the metal interior. Red on black eyes watched down the narrow tube as Principle Darkholme left her office and stormed away. Same as she did every day at this time, he knew from previous observations, and if those were anything to go be she'd be gone an hour or more.

With the hum of the air conditioning covering the few sounds he made, he moved along the vent towards her office. The electric screwdriver made short work of the cover's screws and into her sanctum he dropped, already taking the pick gun from the belt at his waist as he eyed the desk and discounted it. She wouldn't keep her files in there, and the computer on it probably wouldn't yield much either. Both way too easy to crack open.

"'k ... if Gambit a paranoid terrorist surrounded by enfants ... where he keep his files?"

His wandering gaze fell on the teaching diploma hanging decoriously on the far wall between the large bay windows and he grinned.

Lifting the picture down carefully in gloved hands revealed nothing but a blank stretch of wall, but the smirk didn't die. Minute little cracks in the paint work might look random to someone who hadn't been trained by the Thieves Guild, but to someone who had ... well ... the depression panel on the wall slid back and to the side easily, revealing the real challenge beyond it.

The air hissed between his teeth in a low whistle of appreciation at the sight before him, complete with it's happy flickering lights and LED display. He had to hand it to the lady, she didn't go half way. Under a keypad, tumbler and what appeared to be a modification to the internal security, it was a Knight model safe.

Eyes narrowed slightly he followed the course of the errant wire from the keypad to where it disappeared behind the safe. It probably activated something nasty and permanent to whoever didn't have the code, not to mention whatever was inside.

The boss had said nothing about getting in and out undetected, but an obscure sense of professionalism prevented him from just blowing the door off. No, Jean Luc's favourite pain in the ass was going to do this the right way.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the LED display had begun a thirty second countdown.

Already he could hear his father's sardonic tone asking him why he hadn't checked the panel for wires with that handy little electrometer in his pack before sliding it back. Unfortunately the berating voice wasn't much help in the way of inspiration as the seconds ticked by, so he ignored it.

Doubting it would have a great deal of chance, he swiftly sprayed a fine mist of aerosol over the keypad. It completely failed to show where the buttons had been pushed, and now he was down to twenty.

He muttered under his breath, not panicing yet, but slipping into French almost absently "maintenant tu m'emmerdes"

There wasn't any choice now, the idea of gambling his skills against a countdown that short didn't appeal. Goodbye finesse, hello brute force. The cover came off easily enough, exposing the tangle of wires on the board within. The tangle of wires all exactly the same colour on the board within. Was there anywhere the putain hadn't meddled? Anyone would think she didn't want her files taken or something ...

The wires began to glow a lurid shade of pink as he sent a kinetic charge through them. Not to explode, he doubted that would leave much of anything intact, most importantly him. Instead they began to slowly disintegrate. The LED countdown stopped had stopped at 11. Of course, that didn't mean the safe wouldn't blow.

A playing card slipped between the frame and the door, he charged it quickly with what he hoped wasn't too much force and flattened himself against the wall. The door blew passed him and embedded itself in the plaster and wood wall opposite with the sound of tortured metal and whisper of backdraft fire.

There was no time to check what to take from the smoking safe and every angel or demon sent to watch him was screaming it was time to leave. He dumped everything into the bag, they could be checked for bugs once he was out of the blast radius. No time to do anything the easy way any more, he dove towards the glass windows, falling to the ground below but landing on his feet.

He was nearly at his bike when the corner office exploded.