Robbed! - Salvation Lost : Sins of Salvation

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TOPIC: Robbed!

Baroness DuMorne

Demonic Nobility

Posts: 53

Date: Jul 13, 2009

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The fact that Rowan was cruising at the top speed of 90 mph while using only one hand to steer should have been alarming. Instead, for the Djavo it was all in a day's drive. If anything she could have gone faster, but since she had an actual destination to reach and an actual job to do, Rowan chose to keep her speed just short of break-neck. It was boring yes, but at least she didn't have to worry about getting ticketed. Thankfully Europe wasn't as hung up on speed limits as its offspring, USA. In Europe if a driver wanted to commit suicide by high speed driving they were welcome to it. As long as no innocent civilians were harmed in the process of course. The Djavo took that as a permission to exploit that loophole by sending her little sports car zooming over narrow roads and leaving tire marks on every corner. It was kind of like marking her own territory. See that squiggle? That means Rowan was there. With a sharp turn coming up Rowan sighed and shifted gears while reducing speed to something better understood by safe drivers and physicists. It wasn't crawling speed but it reduced her chances of breaching the time space continuum and ending up in 1955 just in time for Enchantment Under The Sea dance. Setting her left hand on the wheel, Rowan lifted her right hand to her mouth and bit down on the tip of her right index finger hard enough to draw blood. The bead of shimmery red fluid welled up quickly and before it had a chance to run down her hand Rowan reached out and smeared the blood over a small black statue that set atop of the dashboard. The little figurine was shaped like a dog. At least that's what it looked like to Rowan. A black, badly shaped Yorkie sitting on haunches with its mouth gaping open at the world. It cost a pretty penny but the Vatican Cult rep/priest assured her that the spell, while not making her car entirely invisible to the naked eye, would keep it from being an object of interest for those who looked at it. Basically it meant that Rowan could drive through a crowded mall full of people and not one of them would be able to point out exactly what the thing cleaving a path through them was. Which fit in perfectly with what she needed the thing to do. In order for her to Ishamel Goldman's house, Rowan didn't want the sports car to be noticed. It was a getaway car and where she would have ideally gone for a cheap easily stolen model, this time she chose speed and function over convenience. After you rob a house of an influential person like Mr. Goldman, it seemed like a good idea to have a set of very, very fast wheels on which to get away. ------ Waiting was the part that sucked the most. Even though her mind knew that time was a key element in pulling the perfect heist, her body wanted to argue. It was a pleasant kind of hell to sit and wait while her heart beat loudly in her chest and adrenaline rushed through her body. It was both fun and annoying but Rowan knew from previous experience that the more jazzed she got the more rewarding the high would be. Looking at clock on the dashboard she sighed as the numbers slowly rolled over. Only a little while more and she could go. According to intelligence gathered by both her and the a trusted Cult operative, Mr. Goldman was scheduled to be elsewhere for the evening. As time tables went, her's was tentative at best. He could be back in a minute or in an hour. Rowan hoped for the hour, but she had done with less before. At least with her car adequately hidden from prying eyes (both physical and other) she could wait in style for the magic hour. Which, if the clock on her dashboard hadn't gone completely mental and decided to play a sick trick, was...now. ---- As always, getting into a house was ridiculously easy. Maybe being able to teleport had something to do with it. Rowan didn't stop and examine that too much. While getting into the house was easy, getting to the house took skill. Rowan had to dodge, crawl, flip and plain out run till her hands could touch the brick fortress Ishmael Goldman called home. As far as security systems went his was state of the art and then some. Privately done at a fantastic price tag to boot. The window and door sensors meant shit to her, the motion detectors now those were tricky bastards. Once Rowan popped herself right on through to the other side, she dug inside one of the pockets on her belt and withdrew a small metal box. The LCD display lit up with statistics and once they lined up she pressed the button that emitted a pulse to match that of the motion detectors. Where your average motion detection sensors, like the kind found at the top of grocery store doors, these relied on wavelengths of sound. A whisper of cloth as the person moved, a scrape of furniture, broken glass, etc. Nothing could escape their detection...save for a countermeasure designed specifically for them. It cost a lot, but clearly the Cult's budget was on par with Mr. Goldman. Once Rowan could move freely...she did. Following the floor plans and woman's intuition, Rowan introduced herself to the house. Keeping neatly only to the parts that mattered. If she wanted a sandwich she had a kitchen in her own home and a stomach that could stand to be empty for a few hours. She was there to work, not to take a tour. Plus given what she was wearing, Rowan would hardly pass for a polite house guest anyway. Draped, er wrapped rather, from head to toe in a black body suit, Rowan looked more like a sexified ninja rather than a cat-burglar. The material was mesh. Lightweight, breathable, fire resistant and an impromptu Kevlar material over the vital bits. Her "utility belt" as she liked to call it, held all the doohikies a thief could ever want or need. The Djavo hardly used it these days. Most rich widows or stuck up business tycoons hardly bothered with good security anymore. Relying mostly on their social status to act as a theft deterrent. Oh no, no one would dare steal from me...I am SoandSoImportant! Rowan had delighted in proving them wrong. Despite the warm night outside it was downright cold inside the house. Rowan wasn't sure if that could be attributed to the fantastic air conditioner setup or the simple fact that the house was made of stone. Having decided that it was probably due to both, and that she didn't care all that much, Rowan set about the task of finding what she came for with a devotion found rarely in hired professionals. Sure some people loved what they did but for Rowan it was a god damned calling. She was good at it and she enjoyed doing it. Her only regret was that Xander wasn't there to see her do it. The woman was vain and liked to show off. There was nothing wrong with that. Tracking slowly through yet another large hallway, the Djavo paused to admire the decor yet again. Heavy, dark, gauche, extravagant and downright stifling. The pieces were overwhelming. There each piece of art of furniture could easily act as a center piece of any house, here they were all stacked atop of one another. You didn't know what to look at first. Rowan liked it. She didn't love it but she could in time. Time she didn't have. Looking down at her wrist she pulled back the edge of one long sleeve and took note of the time. She had given herself half an hour total, and now she was down to sixteen minutes. "Tick tock Chase, tick tock." Peeling away from the wall, Rowan once again checked the motion detectors in the hallway (taking out the video cameras at the same time. Even if they did manage to catch something...her face was hidden as were her eyes. Yet another thing that made her pout. No one would praise her for the achievement. Probably chuck it up to some hack who managed to get caught once upon a time. Le sigh.) Stowing self pity under a giant metaphorical rock, Rowan went on. It took a turn or two, or three, four minutes and twenty six seconds, but she found herself in what she could only term "the office." No matter who, no matter where, offices always looked the same. There was a desk, a computer, shelves and a scene of stress and self importance that permeated every surface. Rowan could understand the stress part. Mr. Goldman must have had to write some big checks in this room. Or hide big secrets. It was the later she was interested in. Moving to the desk Rowan set four items out. One was the frequency monitor which she set on a five minute loop. Five minutes would be plenty of time to snoop. Second was a crystal of pale white with dark tan lines cut into the surface in a way that could only be called...ceremonial like. An emotional magnet that could guide her to what she needed, a tool originally designed to hone in on items of importance within a small space. Favorite toys, the safety blanket. If it mattered...it would know it. The demon could find things too, but Rowan needed important things, not his dirty laundry. Maybe later but right now she had to be serious. A USB drive and small spy camera. With the advance of technology the size of the camera shrunk down to where Rowan could barely hold it between two fingers without breaking it. But the sheer amount and the quality of photos...that she couldn't argue with. With all the tools of the trade laid out before her...Rowan set to work. First the computer. She didn't have time to sit and look through the files one by one. Instead, the thief set the little USB drive in a shape of a dog into a corresponding slot and turned the computer on. As the little dog began to hump at the computer the virus took effect. Slithering its way past the data encryption software and one firewall after another like a hungry snake after a warm meal. It took a shockingly short amount of time to hack through the security and begin to suck the hard disk dry. Personal files, emails, cookies, the works. It took it all. Rowan left it to it. The desk yielded little. Papers, more papers, a photo or two, an address book. The usual brick a brack one could find in an office. The crystal helped. The bright white glow turned red the closer she got to what she needed. It took some Djavo elbow grease to slip the drawer out of the filing cabinet, but once she had it open it was information buffet galore. Fingers walked over folder tabs till she found all those important ones in subheadings L and R...and one or two others that got her attention. The camera snapped away, taking perfect details of each page for Rowan to develop later. That took three minutes and left the Djavo with plenty of time to spare. Cleaning up was easy. Once she saw the order they were in it was easy to replace the papers into their folders and shove the drawer closed as if she wasn't even there. Which was really the whole point. If the Cult wanted Ishmael Goldman to know he was robbed...they'd have said so. And maybe burned his house down to the ground while they were at it. No this required a gentle touch. If there were dents and scratches left behind well...darn. Just as Rowan was about to pocket the crystal and retrieve the little humping dog, the red glow flared like a star. Frowning, the Djavo moved her hand, following the glow as it began to dim, only to move it back and watch it flare back to life. "Aha...me thinks I've found something." She could feel the mesh of her "ski" mask press against her lips as she grinned. Moving around the desk, Rowan slid into the rather comfortable chair behind it and moved the crystal back and forth till she was sure of the spot it pointed to. Problem is...there was nothing there. A smooth panel with no handle or knob. "Hmm if I was something important hiding behind a false panel...how would I get there?" Curiouser, and curiouser Rowan could feel the dark energies inside wanting to lash out at the hidden cache. Just smash the wood apart, take what she wanted and disappear. The mental image of the wood breaking, the sound of it falling to pieces at her feet sent a shiver of delight down her spine. That alone told her it was a bad idea. Delicate touches were key. Kneeling on the floor, Rowan ran her hands over the edge of the desk, feeling the groves in the polished surface through the thin mesh material of her gloves till there, she felt the light catch and depressed it. Soundlessly a panel slid aside and Rowan grinned in glee. As far as items of interest went these weren't what she expected. Hair, women's according to the texture and color. That went into a small black baggie. A locket, pretty but the Djavo guessed it held more sentimental than monetary value. If the tingle she got from it was any indication...strong sentimental value. That went into another baggie. The small book, a diary of sorts, went into a mesh bag and all if it went into a larger pouch that Rowan slung over her shoulder and pressed the switch that slid the pannel back into place. Glancing at the crystal she saw the glow had faded to a pale white and with a sigh pocketed that too. Dong! The dog sopped humping the computer. His little plastic body spent and a message on the screen letting Rowan know that it was now safe to remove the USB device. Well wasn't that just kind of the computer to offer her assistance after what she just did to it. Technically, it was the program that did it, but Rowan brought the program... Plucking the plastic and yet incredibly priceless device into her belt, Rowan took stock. Thirteen seconds to go and she was done. Plucking the frequency monitor off the desk, she gave the room one final look before moving to the wall that lead to the outside, set her hands against it and disappeared. She stayed too long. One second over her allowed time limit had left just enough of her body moving through the air to trigger the motion detectors above her. All hell broke loose as Rowan slid free of the house. Landing with a soft thud on the ground outside while noise and light filled the world. Well shit. This sucked. A lot. Making sure all of her items were secured, Rowan ran, teleporting where she could till she reached the safety of her car. ----- She watched from her little cocoon of safety that was the silver Mercedes as security guards, like many angry, and rather beefy, bees, searched the grounds. If Rowan could she'd have stayed to watch the whole floor show...alas she couldn't. Job, responsibilities and all that. Sometimes it really cut into her fun. With the lights off, Rowan threw the car into reverse and slowly rolled back till she was sure she was out of the danger zone. Now all she had to do was just deliver the goods (After going through them with a fine tooth comb and making duplicates of what she felt was important) to the Vatican Cult, collect her sizable paycheck and ... something that involved a n aked male Djavo with a kink for biting and stuff. Yes, that sounded like a good plan. __________________

LogAdmin

you can't spell evil without V

Posts: 420

Date: Jul 16, 2009

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