The Offices of Thalia Trimble, Private Eye - vol 1

Dylan brushes off your concerns and adjusts his tie. "I’m a man of honor and integrity, Thalia Trimble," he says in a Mid-Atlantic accent. "And as such, I cannot stand idle while you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders." Dylan returns to his normal voice. "In all seriousness, this is a way I can actually help you that is well within my wheelhouse. While I’m there I can talk with Arthur, really shore up the case and make sure there aren’t any legal holes the opposition is going to be able to work with when this all goes to the courthouse. First sign of danger, me and Arthur hop in my car and don’t stop driving ‘til we’re in Vegas. Maybe not even then."

He seems unconcerned about payment. "Focus on the case. I’m not bouncing any checks. We’ll sit down and get all that hammered out when the dust clears. And don’t worry, I’m not going to charge you by the minute to keep an eye on Arthur. This shopping trip, on the other hand..."

Dylan gives you a sideways glance at the mention of hypothetical plans. "That doesn’t sound ominous at all. But don’t worry, my lips are sealed. In the rare instance that what you’re about to tell me isn’t covered by attorney-client privilege, we’ll file it under a friendly pinky swear." He holds out his hand, pinky raised. "Much more binding contract, if you ask me."

Thalia involuntarily makes an unfamiliar sound in response to Dylan's accent; it takes her a few seconds to realize she is giggling. She'd actually forgotten she could even do that. She wonders how someone so adorkable ever became something as stodgy as a lawyer.

Popping her trunk and beginning to load the groceries, she says, "All right, but just a heads-up: if you end up going to Vegas without me, I'll be pretty ticked off." She closes the trunk. "You can follow me back to the safe house, or I can give you the address if you need time to get ready for the Sleepover of Doom."

She grins at his raised pinky and links it with her own. "Deal. Get in the car so I can explain it all." Once inside her car, Thalia tells Dylan about the chip Jamal is making from Arthur's instructions, and walks him through the heist as Arthur had proposed it, referring often to her notes.

Just describing what she's planning to do - if it can even be referred to as "planning" - reminds her of how tired she is, and she finishes with her head against the headrest. "You don't have to tell me that this is a Class-A Crazy idea. I'm well aware. But I'm very short on options that lead to proving Andrew's innocence. Without that murder weapon, even if Bradford and Ivanovich go down, it's unlikely Andrew gets sprung. And he's the whole reason I'm even involved in this."

She scrubs her face with her hands. "This would be a great time for some practical advice. Or if you have any friends who are certified badasses, I'd take that, too."

Dylan does his best to keep a calm lawyer face on display but once again you have caught him a little unprepared. "If this were any other case I feel like you would have tons of options. Arthur’s confession alone would be enough to restart an investigation and get a warrant to examine the murder weapon... I know I should be talking you out of doing this and going devising a safer option, but this company is off the charts evil. That prototype would be destroyed or mysteriously vanish before a judge even had time to sign a warrant. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if you trust Arthur and think you can pull this off... it might just be the break you’ve been looking for."

He shakes his head in disbelief. "Don’t take that as advice from your lawyer. That was strictly Dylan speaking. From a legal perspective this is a nightmare but I am pretty sure we can make it work if we get creative enough." He starts mumbling through plans about having Arthur be the one that comes forward with the prototype because obviously you cannot admit to stealing it. "Way I figure, Lloyd Laboratories will cover up a break in like this. It seems they are willing to kill in order to avoid reputation hits, so there is no way they would want competition finding out it is that easy, relatively speaking, to steal from them.

"As for help... I might know some folks that pretend to be football hooligans on the weekends. You probably don't want them." A thought crosses his mind which brings a smirk to his face. "Are you telling me that Thalia Trimble, the PI whose rolodex is so large it has more satellites than Saturn, doesn’t know some muscle that would be willing to walk into Hell to settle a favor?"

Thalia mostly nods as Dylan confirms her own thoughts about the validity of choosing the breaking-and-entering solution over something a bit more legally defensible. It's actually comforting to hear a lawyer justify what is legally a felony as the only moral action in the current situation.

A laugh erupts from her unexpectedly at his use of the term "football hooligans," but it's quickly followed by a blush when he expresses amusement at her sudden apparent lack of suitable contacts for a job like this. She sighs, looking down at her hands. "I do, yeah. I think I'm just... I feel reluctant to bring more people into this, you know? I've already gotten so many of you on the Lloyd Labs radar that I've been trying to do as much of this alone as I possibly can. Only now I'm facing a situation that, if I take it on alone, I don't think I'll succeed, or even make it out alive."

In fact, that was the entire reason she'd wanted to tell Dylan about the plan in the first place - so that if she didn't make it out, he'd be able to point the cops in the right direction.

Which means that part of her has already given up. And dammit, that's just not Thalia's way of doing things. For one thing, she'd taken Andrew's case, and for her, that's the same as a promise. She won't give up before she's done everything in her power to keep that promise.

And for another, if she accepts that Bradford et al are going to succeed in keeping her from getting the murder weapon, succeed in taking Thalia out, then what hope is there for Dylan and Cyn and Jamal and all the other people she's accidentally put in the line of fire? She has to see this through, and she has to survive it. Because the alternative is simply unacceptable.

She looks at him with renewed determination. "But no, you're right. I have resources, and I'm going to use them. I'm gonna get that prototype out of Lloyd Laboratories, and we're gonna get Andrew's conviction overturned, and then you and I are gonna take those bastards down, no matter what it takes."

Dylan offers no snappy comeback. Only a nod and a handshake commitment. Before parting ways he has you go over the details of what you discussed with Arthur one more time. This is partly so he is knowledgeable on the case and partly so he can quickly explain to Arthur that he is a trusted friend. Once that is set, Dylan actually brings up contingency plans.

It is clear that he doesn’t want to think about the worst case scenario, but needs to know there is a plan if things take a wrong turn. In particular he wants to know how long he should wait without contact before assuming the worst and who he can trust to take this information to.

Satisfied that he knows the ends and outs, Dylan has you drop him off a block from his car. Before walking away he says, "Be safe and get in touch as soon as you can."

When you get back to Jamal’s you have to wait quite a while before finally opens the door. His jeweler's glasses are up on his forehead, telling you that he was busy working. The two of you head back to his workshop and he points to a small metal container.

"You’re all set, Agent Smart. Even though the notes made it clear that the thing was specifically made to target advanced systems, I tested it out on some basic security tech." He points to a trash can that is covered in the chemicals from a fire extinguisher. You peek inside and see a standard security camera with its insides practically melted away to nothingness.

"When the dust settles from whatever it is you're doing, I want to meet the individual that designed this thing."

"Hey, I recommend you listen to that tape recording I made of Arthur this morning," Thalia tells Dylan. "It will give you a lot more detail and, I'm sure, a good foundation for legal-eagle follow-up questions. Also, take a camera to the safe house and take pictures of his injuries. I didn't have one on me, but he might feel more comfortable with a guy doing that, anyway."

The reluctant request to discuss contingency plans brings Thalia up short. She's been so busy being fatalistic, why hasn't it occurred to her to make plans accordingly? Something to ponder at her leisure, she supposes. Say, after this case is over, or while she's been driven to the site of her eventual shallow grave.

"I know a few police detectives, but now that I know how deep the Lloyd Labs corruption runs through the SEPD, I'm reluctant to bet on their integrity. There's one uniform I trust to not be in Lloyd's pocket, an Officer Greeley. He was the one who brought me downtown with the Lawson case files. I think he showed you and Kate's lawyer in to see me? Anyway, that's who I want you to go to if things go south for me."

She breathes deeply, thinking. "Okay, if you don't hear from me, either directly or through Cynthia, by eight o'clock this evening, assume the worst. I'll need to act today if I hope to grab that prototype before they decide to destroy it. And once the plan's in motion, it probably won't last a long time, one way or another. You know everything now - the location of the prototype, the names of the major players, the address Ivanovich is living under the name of Evans, my description of finding Arthur tied up in his closet. Oh!"

She fishes in her pocket, pulling out her little notebook. "All the notes I've taken on the Lawson case are in here. I take pretty detailed notes. Get Cyn to help decipher if anything's hard to read; she knows my shorthand." She hands him the notebook and continues. "Now, if you do hear from me, be careful about answering questions too readily in case I'm under duress. We'll need a code word, hmm. If I use the word 'cotton' in the conversation, I'm being forced to contact you. In that case, I'll try to give you other hints about my location or something, but at the very least, I'll let you know that something is wrong and not to comply with whatever they're making me tell you to do. Got it?"

She drops him a block from his car and waves. She really hopes it's not for the last time. She owes him a dinner. Shrugging, she heads over to Jamal's.

"Hey, if he survives this case, I'll throw a dinner party for the two of you myself," she tells him, managing to sound like she's mostly joking. She nods approvingly at the evidence of Jamal's testing of the chip. "I appreciate your thoroughness as always, pal. Also, I think I'm going to need that sonic whatsis today."

He hands her Arthur's newly-chipped Lloyd ID and she inspects it briefly, trusting Jamal's workmanship, and the sonic weapon, which she puts into her bag. She thanks him, making sure to make eye contact and show more than just casual gratitude for his help before taking her leave.

She visits her apartment for the first time in what seems like ages, checking the place over thoroughly with her pager to determine exactly where the bugs are. There's one in the overhead light fixture in the living room, as well as one under the nightstand in her bedroom. Perverts. And of course, the phone is bugged.

It feels better to know where they are, at least. She hums a little as she pours herself a soft drink and makes a turkey sandwich, which she carries on a plate with her to the bedroom. She changes clothes again and swaps out several things she's carrying in her bag for things she expects to need on this job.

Finishing her quick lunch, she leaves the apartment and steps across the hall to her office to pick up some ammo for her gun - the bullet-y one - and to leave through her rolodex, memorizing a couple of numbers. She grabs a fresh little notebook, and leaves the building. Driving to a phone booth that she knows to be clean, she checks it first anyway, then dials the number for Radinka Popoa.

Radinka, a former Soviet-bloc tennis star, had shocked the world, first by defecting to the States, and then by retiring two years later. Rumors were rampant that she'd been a CIA asset during her career. Thalia had crossed paths with her a couple of times since Popoa had relocated to San Espero from Crowfall. She knows Radinka has the nerve, the self-possession, and the quick-thinking needed for a high-risk job like this, as well as the ability to handle herself if it starts raining excrement.

"Radinka? It's Thalia Trimble... Yes, that's right. I'm fine, thanks. Look, I have a job, it's time-sensitive, and I need backup. Can we meet in, say, an hour?"

Radinka gives you an address that you don’t recognize beyond knowing it is in a shady part of town. When you get there a homeless man won’t stop requesting spare change. You look at the paper cup he is holding up to your face and see a small note taped to it that reads 'T.T.' After putting some money into the cup the man tears the note off and hands it to you. It contains another address, five blocks from here.

When you arrive at the second location, you find yourself standing in front of an old abandoned movie theater. As you look around for a way in you notice a sharp red light coming from an unknown location. Panic courses through you for a moment as you realize it is the red of a laser. A laser dot sight.

Wait. No it isn’t. Well it is a laser light but instead of a small red dot confirming you at a target for a shot it instead displays the number 205. The red light vanishes when it is clear you have seen it. You quickly look up to the second floor of the building across the street just in time to see a shadowed figure step away from the window.

Crossing the street you ring the bell for 205 and the door unlocks a moment later. The door to room 205 is left open a crack when you arrive.

"Geeze, Thalia... You’re getting sloppy. I could have taken you out four times in the past hour," the familiar voice of Radina speaks softly. You close the door behind you and walk into the dingy apartment. She is leaning back in a folding chair and playing with the laser pointer. On the bed are two large suitcases.

"You weren’t exactly clear on what you needed help with so I brought gear to go loud or quiet. If this happens to be related to that mad scene outside your building the other day that the news doesn’t seem to want to cover, I’m going to guess we’re hoping for quiet but there is probably a good chance of it turning too loud. Am I in the ballpark?"

You can sense a good deal of excitement in her voice. She is looking forward to this.

Grinning at Radinka, Thalia walks toward the bed. "I think you mean, are you on the right court. And yes, you are."

With a look that requests permission, Thalia waits for it before opening the suitcases, delicately moving things around to take stock of all the contents. She makes a quiet whistle. "Girl, you don't mess around. I love that about you."

Thalia considers checking the place for bugs and then pictures how hard Radinka would laugh at her waving her little pager all over this apartment. She'd already seen eloquent proof of just how much better-equipped than she Radinka is; there's no way she hasn't already scanned this place for bugs.

She grabs a folded chair leaning against the wall and opens it before wrapping her legs around the seat and sitting on it backward, resting her arms on the back with her wrists lightly crossed. "I would ask how you heard about that thing that happened at my building, but it's probably a 'tell me and you have to kill me' situation, and I already have a couple of people who want me dead, so I'll pass on that. Anyway, here's what we're up against."

She gives Radinka a capsule summary of the events that have brought them together today, starting with the conflicts between Martha Bradford and Kate Lawson at Lloyd Laboratories over the sonic and weapon; Martha's manufacturing deal with Christov Ivanovich; the slow campaign of Carson Chang feeding Kate's brother help on his prototype; and Ivanovich using the prototype to murder the Andrew's neighbors and frame him.

"That's where this job comes in. I've had an opportunity to examine the prototype. There's evidence that can prove it's the murder weapon, but it's under a ridiculous amount of security and they are most likely planning to destroy it very soon. Now, I happen to have a way to get us past the security, but that will only hold for five minutes." Here she describes what Arthur had told her in minute detail, drawing floor plans of the parking garage and the corridors as she remembers them from her encounter with Bell."Now, couple of important things to note: 1) Martha Bradford really wants me dead, and she sent Arthur to Ivanovich to give him that very assignment; 2) Ivanovich has gone off the rails entirely, no longer listening to Bradford and Friends; 3) I rescued Arthur from Ivanovich's torture-chamber closet and that probably means he's jonesing to kill me anyway." She signs and shrugs. "I will now pause to take questions from the floor."

The first suitcase is decked out with materials for disguises. Outfits to fit a number of different social situations, wide variety of make and supplies, fake IDs ranging from civilian to government official, and a bright green wig. It is the first time you’ve seen it in person but the topic of this wig had come up before in conversation before. Similar to your specs, this wig allows the wearer to quickly and easily change hair colors and styles. The material it is made of somehow bends light to create realistic visual illusions.

The other suitcase is for dealing damage. Radinka has never favored guns and this loadout reflects this. Ninja stars, caltrops, extendable baton, miniaturized non-lethal grenades (flashbang, strobe effect, sleep gas, etc), brass knuckles, several vials of unmarked liquids, tasers, and a pair of H&K P7 pistols for situations that escalate that far.

Radinka remains quiet and attentive as you fill her in on all the details. When you finish, she takes a while to carefully ponder over everything you’ve said. She looks to her suitcases and tries to hide a smile. "Damn. If I had the foresight to keep one of those guns on me I probably could have fooled you into thinking I was working with Ivanovich, couldn’t I?"

She gets serious. "I am sure I don’t have to tell you, but he is very dangerous. More so than ever before. The Russian mob cut him loose for being too reckless and he’s been trying to get back in their good graces ever since. He’s desperate and running out of opportunities. I’m sure they’ll take him out if they get word of how much trouble he's causing.

"I’m assuming turning him over to the mob isn’t an option? They’d be very grateful, but it would all but doom Andrew Lawson to rot in a cell for the rest of his life. No offense, but I don’t think you have what it takes to hand a man over to the fate that would await Ivanovich. He would surely suffer a slow and unpleasant end. He know doubt deserves it, but being the one feed him to the sharks can weigh heavily on the soul.

"So I guess that leads us with the option you’ve laid out. Elaborate heist it is. I can look the part of an employee, but I don’t know enough shoptalk to get us through any scrutiny. You’d have to do all the talking if we try to slip in through a facility and make our way through the tunnels.

"Do you have any other insiders that will be helping us out or are we on our own?" A thought occurs to her. For a moment it looks like Radinka considers not even mentioning it. "I think I already know the answer, but how do you feel about a decoy?

"If this card really shuts down everything then there is no reason both of us need to head for the prototype. One of us could enter a facility across down and then unleash hell with the card. That would attract most of the heat away from the target location allowing the second operative to slip in and out unnoticed."

It is pretty clear she wants to be the decoy. You know she isn’t the type to inflict wanton violence and it is highly unlikely she’d go on a killing spree to escape. You get the feeling that the thrill of the chase is what has her excited about this possibility.

Thalia isn't surprised to hear that Ivanovich is in trouble with the Russian mob for his erratic behavior. The fact that he's been torturing people in his own apartment suggests that he's gone 'round the bend, and no criminal organization can afford that kind of security risk.

But Radinka is right - Thalia doesn't want the psychic weight of turning Ivanovich over to the mob, unless there's no other choice.

"Unfortunately, no. I don't have any insiders beyond Arthur and Kate's executive assistant, and I don't really trust her to not get cold feet, even if she agreed to help. So I think the decoy plan's our best bet." She leans forward, grinning. "But I wanna use that cool wig of yours. They know me, they know what I look like, and chances are security has been put on alert to look out for me. I'm going to need every edge I can get."

Radinka frowns, thinks it over, and relents. "Dammit. You’re right. The wig is yours. I’ll tell you right now though; if you lose that thing you’ll find out that Ivanovich isn’t the only Soviet boogeyman in town."

She gets up and starts pacing about the room as she goes over the different options, as she sees them. The most prominent Lloyd Laboratories locations within the city limits are the research center a few blocks from the parking garage and their corporate office which is located about 20-25 minutes away, by car.

"We may not have anyone on the inside, but it shouldn’t be too hard to look up someone from a corporate directory and bluff our way in by saying we have a meeting with them. Whichever one of us is playing decoy doesn’t need to get deep into the facility. All they need to do is find a card reader and swipe that badge. Then the one in the parking garage can do their thing and hopefully be in and out as fast as possible."

Radinka lays down the location of a few different safehouses you can meet up at once the task is done. Now it is just a matter of deciding which of you is going to which location.

"I think you're the obvious choice for decoy," Thalia admits. "The decoy's purpose is to attract attention, which is a better fit for someone with no ties to Lloyd Labs. And I've already been to site where the murder weapon's being stored, so it makes sense that I'd be the one slipping in there."

Resting her chin on her hands, Thalia thinks the plan through. "The most worrisome thing is communication. I don't suppose you have any long range spy gear that would allow us to keep in touch somehow? I'm concerned about one of us running into something unexpected and not being able to let the other know."

Radinka goes over to one of her two cases and roots around for a bit. She pulls out two electronic wristwatches and tosses one to you. "It isn't exactly ideal for this type of mission but it's the best I got. In my active days I did most of my communication by dead drop. These are not capable of direct communication, but if one of us gets into trouble we can hit the start/stop button and it will send an alarm to the other watch. I have stronger radios in my safe houses that are capable of sending one way messages to these as well, but the recipient would not be able to respond. Only receive."

She shows you exactly where the button is to set off the alarm and then has you test it out. Her watch starts silently vibrating. "I'll send out a short 1-2 second buzz like that right before I use the keycard. If you get a sustained alert, that means something went wrong."

The next stage of the prep work involves getting into your disguises. When you next see Radinka she is hardly recognizable. If anything, she looks like a spitting image of Isabel Bell. She should blend in seamlessly as someone expected to have a meeting at Lloyd Laboratories. She is still pacing about the room while working on which accent she wants to use.

You go over the plan one more time, wish each other good luck, and set out. Things take a bad turn almost immediately.

The scene outside the parking garage brings you to a dead stop. Broken glass is scattered all over the sidewalk. You see at least 3 of those small plastic markers police use to mark spent bullet casings. Caution crime scene tape blocks off the entrance to Hardy’s Handy-Clean dry cleaner.

There is a single cop seated inside his cruiser filling out paperwork. It looks like he is on assignment to keep an eye on the joint. Whatever happened here must have occurred hours ago.

The sight of the recent havoc at the dry cleaner brings Thalia a stabbing pain of guilt. Her eyes, clear blue behind the disguise specs, taken in all the details quickly as she extrapolates what likely transpired. After a brief hesitation, she walks up to the police car and bends slightly to speak to the cop inside. Her hair is long and blonde, courtesy of the wig, and pulled back in a conservative ponytail. The rest of her costume pegs her as a scientist on her way in to work.

"'Scuse me, officer? Sorry to bother you, but this is my dry cleaner and I was planning to drop off some things after work. I'm worried about the owner. What happened here?"

The officer barely looks up from his paperwork and absent mindedly gives you a quick rundown. "I'd look into getting a new dry cleaner, miss. Place is going to be out of commission for a week or more. Some idiot shot their way in, smashed up the register to pocket the couple of bucks inside, and then ransacked the office. Totally senseless crime. Destroyed the surveillance system and stole the tapes to cover their tracks. No one was injured though; so at least there's that. They were already closed when it happened."

Thalia thanks the officer and walks on. It's a relief that no one was injured, but the theft of the surveillance tapes means that the thief - presumably Ivanovich - will see Thalia and Dylan and draw a conclusion that they were involved in Arthur's rescue. That means that Dylan and Arthur are both in danger.

She ducks into a nearby phone booth, checks it for bugs, and calls Eddie Ramirez. "It's me. I need you to get eyes on a young attorney ASAP, name's Dylan Saunders. He might be at his office, but if you can't easily locate him, I know where he's gonna be pretty soon." She gives Eddie the address of the safe house. "I need to tell you that Christov Ivanovich is the one I think will be coming after Dylan. His ultimate goal is to locate a man at the address I just gave you. If you see Ivanovich anywhere near Dylan or that address, I need you to contact Officer Greeley downtown. Use my name. And then... well, if you have any contacts in the Russian mob, you might tell them you know where they can find Ivanovich. I hear he's on their naughty list these days. But if you do that, tell them that the two men with him are off-limits."

You can hear Eddie reaching for a pen and saying back the name Dylan Saunders as he writes it down. When you mention Ivanovich, he goes silent. For a long time. "Is this a joke, Thalia? This better be a joke." When it becomes perfectly clear that this is not a joke, you can hear Eddie repeatedly cursing as he holds the phone away from his mouth. "I can't get involved in this. I'm sorry. This sounds really serious and I'd love to be able to help you but... This. Ain't. Happening. Good luck and don't call me again until that maniac is six feet under or in lock up." The line goes dead.

Thalia listens to the dial tone for a moment, unable to accept that Eddie has refused to help. Over the years they've known each other, they've each done paid jobs for the other and exchanged occasional favors. Never had she turned him down. That's how this sort of professional relationship works, after all.

This request certainly wasn't without risk, but she hadn't asked him to involve himself directly, only to find Dylan and send someone to help if necessary. And he'd just... hung up on her.

Thalia has always envisioned life as a network of connections with other people - some personal, some professional, some casual, some deeply significant. For each, there is a line, a figurative tether that signifies the connection, the history and obligations between the people involved. As she hands up the payphone receive to cut the phone connection, Thalia feels herself also severing the connection between her and Eddie. For her, that relationship is finished. The next time he asks her for help, he will find that out.

She spends a moment forcing herself to breathe deeply and calmly, thinking the situation through. She and Dylan hadn't just tromped into Hardy's Handy-Clean without any precautions. They'd gotten into character and a modest amount of costume first. Thalia had mussed herself and applied some makeup to simulate having been hit in the face. Dylan had removed his glasses and his vest and generally looked much less neat and buttoned-down than normal. There's little chance that Ivanovich will easily recognize Thalia immediately even if he has seen images of her. Dylan's connection to her is extremely recent and will be even harder to track.

And Dylan will be at a safe house, which nobody knows about, except - dammit - Eddie. She sighs. Well, she is due for an upgraded safe house anyway.

Okay, so Dylan's danger is almost certainly less immediate than she'd originally perceived. She has to go through with this heist, and if all goes according to plan, she'll be in and out in a fairly short amount of time and able to get to Arthur and Dylan herself before anything untoward can happen to them.

Yeah. Because things are so likely to go according to plan.

Thalia shakes off the unhelpful internal monologue and heads into the parking garage, awaiting the signal from Radinka.

You do your best to act casual and inconspicuous while walking around waiting for the signal. Finally, it comes. You feel the watch vibrate for a brief second and know that Radinka is within 60 seconds of using that card to send Lloyd Laboratories into pure chaos.

With a bit of hustle in your step, you make way for the elevator inside the parking garage. That’s when your pager goes off. Not breaking your stride, you unclip the paper and take a look at the display. Nothing but a phone number.

You know the window for Arthur’s disruption is short. Heading back to a payphone to respond to the page might close that window altogether.

Thalia doesn't slow her steps, but she runs through a the possibilities in her head. She doesn't recognize the number, so that's concerning. She really wants to know who it belongs to and what they want. There's a chance that it's someone calling for help, or someone calling to warn her about... something. She could postpone this op by sending the kill signal to Radinka, but that might screw their chances of successfully pulling off this heist. This is probably her one and only shot at getting hands on the murder weapon, which is going to be necessary if she ever hopes to clear her client and win his release from prison. The thing she's actually been hired to do. The thing she's risked her own safety and that of several other people to accomplish.

She clips the pager back on and continues to the elevator, timing it such that she steps onto the elevator when exactly sixty seconds has passed from Radinka's signal. If Arthur's chip is working, then all she should need to do now is enter the 12-digit code she'd memorized from watching Isabel the first time. If the chip isn't working, well... she supposes she'll find out soon enough.

She enters the code and the elevator begins its descent.