taken down

Ice has taken shots at me, but she's never hit me before.

We had just come back aboard, rocketing high on our success. As we unloaded our goods, Caban bounded up to the control room to send the contact line. Kon and the Doctor went to change and stow what we were keeping. I had what I wanted, just a bulge in my pocket. No one noticed the missing time.
As I turned to leave the cargo bay, Ice brushed past me and grabbed my arm. I stopped, startled, and found myself stuck in her ferocious gaze.
"Whats in your pocket?"
I felt it burning, the bullet at my throat burning, the blood rushing to my limbs and face. She terrifies me so completely, but something inside wouldn't let me lie, even enough to escape. I have already gone so far...
"Nothing."
"Where did you go?"
"Nowhere."
"What did you do, Scout? I won't have you shaking us."
"It's none of your business."
"Yes it is. Show me what you took."
I should have walked away. I should have feigned stupidity. But I had to fight for him. "No. It's mine."
"What do you have in your pocket?"
"What do YOU have in YOUR pocket?"

In answer to my question, she slid her gun from its holster faster than my eyes could follow. It was not cocked as she trained it at me, but my hands moved along with hers. My ears buzzed as I brought my fingers to the tiny catch on the gun that would release the bullets. The ammunition clattered onto the floor, and we were both frozen in surprise at the utter calm of my actions. She recovered first, and before I knew it had shoved her knee up into my stomach, then slammed the butt of her gun down onto the base of my skull. Lights exploded over my eyes, fiery nausea swept up and brought me to my knees. Ice knelt beside me, breathing acid into my ear.
"Clean this up. I'm eyein' you, and you take a toe out of line, you harm this crew, I'll shoot you and leave you to the black. You know that. And noone'll figure to mourn."

She turned and stalked away, leaving me huddled on the floor. But she didn't check my pocket.

seven

Knocking over a hospital is a complex matter of memorizing blueprints, cutting wires, overriding security systems, disguise, and staying calm. It is important to try to forget that you are stealing from sick people, and pretend that everything will be replaced within several weeks. Maybe it's a crooked institution and they'll end up buying back their own goods.
Mezaro proved invaluable, telling us which doors would be easiest to jam, which equipment and supplies would be easiest to sell. I plotted my own course and was able to slip away for seven minutes without notice.

A stairwell lead to a lower passage with a heavy, secure door. Using Em's planter I popped it and let myself into the massive dark room. Full of tall shelves, millions of tiny containers stored in thousands of pull-out shelves behind coded doors. With the coordinates it took me three minutes to locate the correct bank. The deposit box hissed open to reveal an information disc and four identical vials. I scanned the disc and slipped three vials into a plasti-pouch, something I lifted from Mezaro. There was no time to open other drawers, to throw them off the trail. It doesn't matter. There is no trail to follow.

It has been some while since I worked with a crack team and pulled a clean job. We got in, we got out. Time seemed to slow as we moved our goods to the side loading dock, but nothing was wrong. The crew spoke and moved efficiently, did their business, earned their coin. I spent all mine for access to that room, for seven minutes of time.
No one noticed that I was somewhere else, that everything wasn't as solid as they should have been. All I could feel was the miniscule weight in my pocket. He was with me. The future is suddenly viable.