REBIRTH OF SLICK Part 3

3rd in the installment. At this point it still flowed but I was running over on my word count.Her hand was clamped tight over her mouth. She had been startled when the lid had hit the ground and could not help jumping. Now everything on the other side of the crates had gone quiet. They had heard her. Did they know where she was?Then the heavy stomp of boots bounced echoes off of the walls around her. They stopped on the far side of the crate she was hiding behind. Their voices were muffled but she heard barking orders and then the echoes of the boots spreading out in every direction.Her lungs began to ache and she realized that she had been holding her breath. With the boots stomping about loudly she pulled her hand away from her mouth and chanced a quick gulp of air.Luckily the boots never noticed, so she took another. She listened while more harsh voices barked out more orders. With the noise from the increased activity she decided it might be safe to check her bag. Carefully, while still in a crouch, she swiveled around on her toes. The scratchy sound of her shoes twisting on the concrete floor went unnoticed. Beside her lay a black leather bag, misshapen and bulging. As quietly as she could she pulled on the zipper and opened it halfway. Boot steps came close to the other side of the crate and she paused but they continued on and away. She pushed her hand deeply into the bag, stopping every few centimeters because something in the bag would knock not so quietly against something else. Once she got her hands on what she wanted it took even longer to get it out because the bag was so full.Finally the device came free. It was about twice the size of her fist with a small liquid crystal display covering one half and a small touchpad the other. With her thumb she rolled a small dial then pressed a small button on its side. The display came to life bathing her face with its soft blue light. A circular logo flashed for a moment and then the screen read ready displaying a common computer desktop. She reached into the jacket of the long white lab coat she was wearing and withdrew a small stylus. The tip lit up as the stylus made contact and she then drew it across the touch pad maneuvering the on screen pointer towards a javelin shaped icon.The sharp crack of splintering wood startled her again and she fell backwards onto her butt.Had they seen the light?No. Someone was opening another of the crates; the one she was leaning against. In her panic she had pressed the small device to her chest to cover the glow of the light though she knew rationally that the light was not bright enough to be seen past her hiding space. With a tiny breath she pulled it away from her chest.She also knew that they would find nothing in the crate that would lead them to her hiding place. It was filled with construction supplies for what would have been their new offices in downtown Philadelphia.They would find no prints. She had worn gloves. They would find no footprints. She had the staff sweep the floor before she got here. They would not find her.All this she knew rationally but never the less her hand ached as it held a viselike grip on the second item she had pulled from her bag. She had snatched it out of reflex when the second crate had opened and now held it low and ready to use. It was the only weapon she could get past the security check points and she knew how to use it. The long hunting knife had an onyx blade that reflected very little of the soft blue light.She turned her concentration back to the small screen and noted the progress bar that had appeared beneath it. Her heart began to race. Gritting her teeth she tried to calm herself down. There was still much to do.Another tap with the stylus and another icon, this one the shape of a dollar sign, flashed and opened. A small hour glass spun for a moment and she felt her anxiety rise even more. So much depended on every little detail working out the way she had planned. Even one mistake and it would be over then she would most likely find herself strapped down with a needle in her arm.The small digital hour glass stopped spinning and the screen changed from soft blue to a dull gray white. The top of the screen now displayed the corporate logo of a bank. A few more taps with the stylus and she almost breathed the sigh of relief out loud.The money was there.It was going to work.Hard running boots stampeded nearby and voices were raised in harsh warning on the other side of her crate. She pressed the screen to her chest again and clenched the knife tightly. It was okay, she told herself, they couldn’t know. The small device began to vibrate against her and she pulled it away from her now sweat soaked blouse to see why. A red and yellow window had opened in the bottom right corner flashing a warning:ALERT CONNECTION MONITORED!.
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