Chapter 6. Thirty minutes later, the sleek, powerful black car sat abandoned, deep in shadows down a long alleyway.

The streets of the warehouse district of the city's west side were empty now. Only the low-hanging

moon kept watch over the two masked figures on the rooftop of a derelict building. The flying squirrel

crouched on the ledge and peered intently at the empty warehouse to the north through a tiny

yet powerful pair of spy glasses. Her posture was one of deadly motion captured in a still

moment. Her gray cat suit clung to her athletic form, her hair spilling out from

the back of her cowl. Her silhouette against the moonlight was an image of danger and daring in an

unmistakably feminine form. Behind her loomed a tall figure of a man, so stock-still he might

have been a statue, an illusion only shattered

by the slight motion of his long coat in the wind off the lake to the south. Together they set

a perfect tableau of vigilance, which he finally shattered with a single, quiet word. Anything?

he asked. Nata, she said, folding the spy- spy glasses back into their compact form and returning

them to her belt if there's as much as a mouse stirring down there i can't see hide nor hair of him this feels

wrong he said at last you think so she sm. "'You just pulled off an impossible heist

"'and got away with the baubles of a dozen fine old families.

"'Your average batty either looks for a fence or a party or both.

"'And I don't think either are going to be found in this rat emporium.'

"'Of course your average criminal could never possibly pull off a job

"'with this level of finesse, he countered.

Right. But if he's that talented, you'd think he'd have a better hide-out.

He nodded and said nothing for the moment.

Any chance they found your radio transmitter, she asked.

...