Two-hundred meters more and the pleasant thought that the way home would mostly be downhill, then I had reached my destination—a nice, spacious home in the green, the owner of which had prepared a journey when I had come along on my training trip a few days ago.
A home, where I should find something, if judging by appearance—or by the owner’s job, who directed one of Australia’s top one hundred companies. A home that wasn’t adequately secured, regardless what the security company had told their client.
Chapter Ninety-One
Once I had hidden my bike and my bright safety clothing behind a bush and put on my skin-tight camo suit with gloves and soft feet, I sneaked to the rear of the site. The fence was more meant to keep out kangaroos than humans, so I had no trouble climbing it.
The one-story building’s owner mostly relied on a combination of motion sensors, cameras and spots that should deter the average burglar. However, average was a rating I wouldn’t accept being applied to myself.
If intelligent literally referred to perception and recognition, I’d been aware of my intelligence for a long time. Other than at school, I had always been very alert during my procurement missions. I spotted security installations from far, recognized shop detectives by their behavior, which always clearly differed from normal customers, and thus remained unspotted.
This had helped me with the assessment of problematic customers as well—okay, not with Hermann, but he had been a special case, he had simply been better. And Dandy? I had judged him right, I only hadn’t identified his car as a problem source. Since then, I had adapted my pattern recognition. I may have become a bit paranoid, as I was looking for pursuers, kidnappers and killers always and everywhere, but if it helped me survive, why not? It simply afforded me more attentiveness, and I had plenty of that.
Back to my target. There were two kinds of motion detectors. The active ones utilized ultrasonic signals and analyzed the reflected sound waves for changes. Of course, nobody wanted to be alarmed by each leaf and each bird, so the motion had to be clear and originate from larger objects. Passive sensors searched for moving heat differences. Heat differences were of limited use in an environment that could be heated to more than forty degrees in the midday sun, though.
I took advantage of both. I simply took my time. I was the snake in the grass, I was the lorikeet, I was the leaf. Ha—I was an entire zoo, if I had to be, and even the cuddly pussycat was included. Only one thing I wasn’t—a target for the surveillance installations.
This required an almost inhuman amount of concentration and self control. Sneezing or twitching was out of the question, such would have spoiled everything. Regardless of what happened around me, I couldn’t allow myself to be distracted. Even if a neighbor would spot and address me, I couldn’t move in order not to show up on the surveillance video. Even if a curious bird began to pull my hair, I couldn’t react. I simply couldn’t be there.
In a certain way, it reminded me of Dandy’s treatment. The first few occasions when he had applied the scalpel, he had advised me, “It’s better if you don’t twitch or toss around now. Then I could miss and cause more damage.”
Just that had happened. I had twitched, and the cut had gone painfully deep into my flesh. So I had learned to endure his torture motionless. Even in the darkest hour, when he had mutilated my womanhood, I had only clenched my teeth, had denied myself to cry out, had only silently wept. Yes, I believe I had learned keeping still the hard way. What was a pinching stone against that?
The trick worked once again, and I reached the dead angle at the house wall unmolested. There I could rise and stretch. Fine!
Just as I wanted to prepare myself for the next task, namely access to the house, inside the overly loud bell sounded. Crap!
Chapter Ninety-Two
No, that was a telephone and no alarm. Systematically, I relaxed one group of muscles after another. Before I could go on, I first had to break down the adrenaline, so that the trembling stopped.
Okay. It was safe to assume that there were no acoustic sensors inside the house.
What about the small window? Secured, as I had assumed, but only against unauthorized opening, not against someone using the window sill as climbing aid. Together with the wooden tiling’s narrow grooves, there was just enough support for a lightweight girl like me to reach the roof edge.
This was the most difficult part. Too much swinging would bring me into range of the motion detectors. So I had to remain tightly pressed to the roof edge, the body tensed, so that my body and my legs stayed close to the house.
The Ironman didn’t teach you that, but martial arts did. My body was my most valuable tool—hey, my brain counted in—and I kept it in good shape. Another bit, pull the legs behind, and I was up.
From here to the poorly secured roof window and inside was a walk in the park. As long as I didn’t encounter more security inside, it remained easy. Now I only had to find worthy loot.
Jewelry, paintings, heavy gear didn’t trigger my interest. Nothing that could be traced back or that required recovery for sentimental reasons was suitable for me. I only took the kind of loot that nobody would truly miss. I didn’t damage anything. I offered no cause for feelings of revenge. That way seemed to be healthier to me.
The office—I had reached my mission destination, so it was the more important to remain alert.
Among the few tools I allowed myself was a dentist mirror. With it, I could examine a room before my masked face was recorded by a camera, if such existed. Here was none, the room was clear. The windows faced the garden but not the neighbor, so I didn’t have to fear observers either. Calmly, I began my examination.
The desk drawers didn’t help me much, but a small paper chit with four digits on it stuck under the computer keyboard. Mmm—where did those belong to? Ah yes—the little box in the lowest drawer, which I had considered unimportant, had a number lock.
False hit, it didn’t open. No, a moment. The numbers backward? Neither. Oh, a clever guy. Ten-thousand minus the digits? Yes!
The box unveiled only one more sheet of paper, the one with the combination for the safe. Bingo!
The safe was embedded into the wall behind the desk. However, the classical-mechanical wheel number lock was supplemented by a fingerprint sensor. Now I had to rely on special equipment—a sticky strip with some powder, with which I treated the keyboard. This I placed over the sensor and placed my hand on the wheel.
Stop. The subtraction method again—I subtracted each number of the block from the highest number on the wheel, this was the combination I used.
Click.
Chapter Ninety-Three
So. The thief gets his loot, is happy—and steps into the trap. No, that wasn’t my method. I left the computer untouched, didn’t activate any other devices, didn’t use the bathroom, and left all in its space, even the chits and the little box.
The only difference was a thinner pile of bank notes in the safe—and even that would only show when counting, not with the first glance through the safe door. I wasn’t greedy.
I was cautious. As quietly and prudently as I had entered, I left the house, cautiously I climbed down from the roof, and as slowly I crawled across the lawn. Bent grass leaves were the trace I left, a trace that disappeared by itself.
Only after passing the fence, I granted myself a moment to relax. Without the camo suit, I felt relieved of a burden. Moreover, I felt horny, for one because I was naked, for two because of the successfully completed job. Was I good? Well?
Packing, dressing, go! No unnecessary hesitation, now I had to complete my tour—only fifty more kilometers for tonight, mostly downhill, where I could really go fast. Oh yes, I loved to bicycle so fast, take the bend, then up the opposite hill without slowing down much, and the thrill of speed felt even better if it were the result of my own doing!
Did I say thrill?
This didn’t include any kind of inebriation. I had already mentioned my would-be paranoia. Especially
after a successful job, I had to be alert. It would be too inconvenient to get into a routine police check with all my equipment and a pile of money. It would also fail to meet the standards I had set for myself.
After the job is before the job. I could already start to look for new, worthwhile targets. The next week, when I had my free day in the wellness center, I’d have another opportunity to improve my cash flow.
Chapter Ninety-Four
My biggest problem was to hide these funds from Rosie, who knew very well what I earned at her place. The second largest problem was the tax office, to which I wouldn’t be able to explain the source of my additional income. So, where to put the money? Modern computer systems were quite able to spot funds transfer patterns that indicated potential money laundering. I needed a cover.
Gambling offered a good opportunity. After the exercise, I parked my bicycle with Rosie, put on the little black dress and went to the casino. There I could change cash for chips and chips for cash, and nobody could exactly tell how much I owed to chance and how much to my side job.
To not draw the wrong kind of attention, however, I had to gain some profit from gambling. So I had to make myself familiar with the rules.
I quickly realized that gambling wasn’t suited for my purpose. In the long run, I could only lose in a regular roulette game, and of course the system was regular—at least, I couldn’t spot anything else. I needed a game that didn’t only depend on luck. Something like poker.
That, too? Yes, that, too. It didn’t take me long to check my qualifications. I was used to dealing with people of all levels of society, most importantly, with those with lots of money. Industry tycoons couldn’t intimidate me—not when I remembered having had their cocks between my teeth. I could comfortably move in such company. I could match their level of talking, as I had exercised that for years, too—after all, sophisticated conversation was part of our house style, just as classy attire for external appointments. I only had exchanged the clothes with open backs for closed ones to cover my scars.
In the beginning, I didn’t know anything about poker—where should I have acquired that? What I knew about was the respective role play. Whether I had to keep a shop detective unaware of my intentions or another player was the same for me. I didn’t show interest where I was interested, instead I asked for unimportant stuff even more openly.
In exchange, hardly any other player was able to hide from me. No detail escaped my attention. I could read their faces and body languages like a book, even if it was about cards and not about sex. This way, I could also spot in time if my success might cause suspicions, and restrain myself accordingly.
Otherwise, I might soon have grown to be one of the most successful gamblers and thus gained attention of people I’d rather not see alarmed. I hadn’t forgotten about Corporate Sponsoring.
Instead, I used this platform to relay to the players, what else besides a smart brain and a lucky hand could be found in this black dress—exquisite entertainment on the highest level. Most players were interested in the content of my dress, anyway. Come pay us a visit, it isn’t far away. We’re all pretty, smart, and very skilled.
After one year, I was almost ready to see gambling as the main source of my secondary earnings and not just as cover. I was still considering discarding my burglary missions’ thrill, when fate played a new card.
Part Nine—Goodbye
Chapter Ninety-Five
“A storm’s coming up,” Marcel commented when I entered the wellness center. Okay, the Melbourne weather could no longer surprise me, but actually it had seemed to be an all-over sunny day.
No, he nodded toward the back. Oh, that kind of storm!
Rosie’s dark-clouded face didn’t surprise me then.
“Hello, Rosie. Where’s the problem?”
“Standing in front of me.” She picked up a letter from the table and reached it to me. “Immigration office.”
I took the closed envelope. “And?”
“Open and read first.”
Obediently I followed her order. “Unlawful Non-Citizen—Expiration of visa—reasons for tolerance no longer applicable—legal advice—respite. That’s next week.” I looked up. “I don’t understand.”
“You’ve come for studies. The condition for establishing your faculty in Australia was the unrestricted access to Australia for all admitted students. While you were studying, you were allowed to do anything here, even having any side job. This usually doesn’t apply to other students.” She pointed at the chair in front of her. “Sit down. Graduates in search of a job in Australia will receive permanent visa without problems. Engineers with these skills are in high demand. However, you don’t have such a job. You’re a prostitute, and that won’t score. The government says, we have enough such skills among our own people, we don’t need foreigners for that.”
“Why now?” I asked myself aloud. “My studies were finished more than two years ago.”
“You’ve been very ill and in the Eva Keller nano hospital. There’s an exemption for that. Then you’ve been on vacation. German tourists are welcome here. No problem. But that’s over, and as it seems, the computer has picked your name during an annual routine check. You haven’t given a reason to keep you here for too long, so your expulsion is due. You’re still lucky.”
“Why?”
“Because they haven’t immediately put you in detention and then sent the notice. The clerk must have had pity with you.”
“And what can I do now?”
“Pack your stuff and book a flight to Germany. Or wait for the police to put you on a plane.”
“I’d rather stay. I’ve just settled in again.”
Rosie leaned forward. “Girl, nobody cares for your opinion. You’re no citizen of this country.”
“Here’s a passage on legal advice,” I insisted.
“There’s probably also a line saying that legal claims won’t void or defer the expulsion. You can apply, and if you win, you may come back. Forget it.”
“You don’t want to keep me?”
“No.”
The short and cold reply surprised me. “No?”
“No. You’re nice and still bring some money, but your star is falling. The pity and protective fad doesn’t work anymore. Your novelty value is used up. Fuck a scarred woman once, okay. But the next time there’s something young and spicy, with firm ass and firm boobs. You’re not getting younger, Jo. For you, I won’t risk my shop being closed down for employing an illegal non-citizen. Please understand. Come back with a valid visa, and I’ll give you a chance. Until then, you’re out of business.”
“What?”
She sighed. “I’ve received another letter. I may no longer employ you, and that’s effective immediately. You’re automatically dismissed. Due salary must be paid and that’s it.”
Rosie scrutinized me. “For your sake, you may keep your room until your departure. One week. But no clients!”
Chapter Ninety-Six
I wasn’t even angry at Rosie. She did her job, and part of it was to protect the other girls’ and boys’ jobs. If I was a threat, I had to leave. That she left me my room was a big sign of trust—and a risk, because if questioned she had to prove that I didn’t work but just lived here.
So I had one week to sell my car and recover my treasures. At least I’d be able to take my bike with me.
To get rid of a car within one week isn’t difficult—to arrive at a reasonable price is. I didn’t ponder for long but called Reginald. I had to brief him about my situation, though.
“They can’t do that,” he fumed. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of that.”
“They can do that,” I objected. “It’s completely by the rules. I’m not worried, I’m just returning to the country of my birth. Please don’t mess with it.”
“Why not? I could make sure that you can stay.”
“I don’t doubt that, Reginald. Your connections are surely good enough to get an exemption. But that would l
ead to the situation that I’ll never again be able to leave this country regularly—and if I left, I could never return. However, if you let me go now, I can return anytime, as a tourist or one day as an immigrant.”
“Okay. If you want it that way—but why did you call?”
“Would you sell my car? In my current situation, I can’t get a reasonable price. I’ll issue the necessary authorities, and you can transfer the revenue to me.”
“Oh—yes, sure. Your all-terrain vehicle with the reactor that we’ve built, right?”
“Right.”
“Mmm—I believe I know someone who wants such a car. We might be able to make that work before your departure. If I tell him it’s for a good friend, he won’t push the envelope.”
“Thank you, Reginald. You’re a dear.”
“You’re the dear, Jo, and one day the world will recognize your true value.”
This no longer had to worry me. However, in case he sold that car soon, I had to hurry to check all my hidden vaults—some were too far away to reach them by bicycle. First of all, I had to go to Woomera again.
What should I do with the nano material? It would surely cause me trouble with the departure security check. How should I explain the substance? No, it isn’t explosive. What is it? I don’t know yet, I’ve stolen it. No, it couldn’t work that way.
Cash was a comparably easy problem, just like my skinsuit. It wasn’t forbidden to carry sexy attire. I wouldn’t be embarrassed to explain the correct use and point out the open crotch to the security officer. So that he then would blush and ask me to quickly shut my suitcase?
My mobile phone buzzed. With a snap I accepted the call. “Hello, Reginald?”
Loser Page 20