It had all been going so well right up until the homeless guys blundered in.
The plan had been flawless; the execution, even more so. Bishop knew because she'd been the key player in this dangerous game. For her 5' 2” frame, coming up through a manhole, climbing to the roof on the fire escape, and sliding down a couple of air vents into the multi-storied car park at St Pancras International had been child's play – even with several pounds of explosives in her backpack. It hadn't been hard to find the cluster of cars belonging to LifeSource Industries; they were all sleek and reeking of money. While Ace was gently tweaking the technology of the entire station – delaying a train here, slowing down an elevator there, sending an email or an announcement hither and thither as if they were all pieces in a board game – she had been laying the charges and setting the explosives into the undercarriages of those fancy cars. By the time the timers were ticking down the last few seconds, Bishop was watching from a fire escape on the building opposite.
‘Great job, Bishop,’ Ace complimented her through her earpiece; a bright earring in the shape of a dragonfly.
‘Not so bad yourself.’ Bishop replied. She grinned smugly, checking her watch. ‘Twenty more seconds and then LifeSource will be receiving our message, loud and clear.’
‘Now they'll be listening!’
Then she saw them. Two guys; perhaps twenty, perhaps forty – with heroin involved you couldn't really tell.