A few seconds later, the whirring stopped. The keypad lit up. The overhead lights flickered and went out. The room was illuminated only by the microwave itself. It looked like someone was toasting a small star inside.

“What now?” said Coop.

“I’m not sure.”

“Someone has to open it.”

“I suppose I should.”

“You have my vote.”

Bayliss paused. “Do you think it’s safe?”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

They went to the microwave and Bayliss touched the door handle. “If I die and you live, punch Nelson in the nose again for me, okay?”

“I promise.”

She took the handle and slowly dragged it across the front of the microwave, from the right side of the door all the way to the left. The face of the microwave stretched and warped like taffy as the handle moved, but nothing exploded, which to Coop was a plus.

Finally, when the handle wouldn’t move any farther, Bayliss pulled the handle . . . and the door opened. The light from the oven blinded them for a second. Then they saw a small metal chamber containing some papers, a pistol . . . and the box. Coop reached in and took everything, then tossed the pistol back inside. Who knows what that’s been used for? He nodded to Bayliss and she closed the door, sliding the handle back into place on the right. The microwave stopped glowing and the break-room lights flickered back on. The unmistakable smell of burned wires filled the air, and the back of the oven was scorched black.

“You’re definitely going to need a new one.”

“But we’re not dead.”

“Nice job,” said Coop.

“Thanks.”

“Let’s get out of here.”

“Let’s,” said Bayliss.

Coop put the box and papers in his bag, slid the chair away from the door, and grabbed his sign. They headed back to Bayliss’s desk. When they got there, Coop pulled a chair over and they sat down together. Bayliss’s face was a wide grin. Coop wouldn’t have guessed she could smile like that.

“How does it feel, being in on a heist?” he said.

“Wow. Now I know a little more why you and Giselle like this kind of thing.”

“When everything works out it’s kind of a rush.”

“I’ll say.”

And this is where I ruin your night, he thought.

“Now listen to me closely. About Giselle . . .” he said. And told her all about the phone call and Morty’s kidnapping earlier.

“Oh my god. We’ve got to tell someone. I’ll call Mr. Woolrich,” said Bayliss. When she reached for her phone, Coop laid his hand on it.

“Let me ask you a question: Do you really think the DOPS is going to risk losing the box to save a couple of lowlife crooks?”

“Giselle works for us. They have to, right?”

“They’re the government. They don’t have to do anything. And Woolrich will just tell Nelson. You think he’s going to help? He’ll bury Giselle just to get back at me, and you’ll probably end up in the mailroom.”