A homeless guy pushing a shopping cart loaded with trash bags came around the corner and walked down Fifth Street in their direction. When he got close to the group, Coop took a twenty-dollar bill from his pocket, wadded it up, and tossed it in front of the cart. The homeless man stopped and walked to where the bill had fallen. He stood over it for a minute and looked around. Satisfied he was alone, he picked it up, smoothing it with his thumbs. He stuffed the bill into the pocket of one of the many coats he was wearing and continued down Fifth.

“Okay?” said Sally.

“Okay,” said Morty.

They hurried across Flower Street and around the Blackmoore Building to the employee entrance.

Coop put his hand on Morty’s shoulder. “You’re up.”

Morty nodded and took a deep breath. He put one hand on the doorknob and the other over the key pad that controlled the lock. His eyes went blank for a few seconds. The pad beeped and the door clicked open. Morty let out the breath. Coop and Tintin clapped him on the back. They went inside and Coop checked the time. Ten fifteen.

“Let’s head up to nine. No rush,” he said. They started up the stairs.

When Eddie and the others had rappelled down to the twelfth floor, Harrison used a pry bar to open the elevator door. He slid it halfway and looked around. No one was there. There wasn’t even a cleaning cart in sight.

“We good?” said Eddie.

“Babylon was right. They finish the high floors early,” Harrison said.

“Good. Let’s go in. This harness is squeezing my balls so high they’re clogging my sinuses.”

Harrison and Racer X pushed the doors open the rest of the way. They climbed onto the twelfth floor and grabbed Eddie’s arms. Bracing their legs against the wall, they hauled him in like a hairy marlin. That morning, Racer X had asked why, considering Fast Eddie’s epic girth, they were climbing to the job instead of actually riding in the damned elevator.

Harrison rolled his eyes. “Two hundred pounds ago, Eddie was in the marines. He thinks he still is.”

“Shouldn’t someone, maybe, say something to him?”

“Sure. Go ahead. You be the one who calls Eddie a lard-ass to his face.”

Racer X thought about it. “He doesn’t seem like the kind of person to take constructive criticism well.”

“You’ll learn all you need to know about Eddie’s attitude by whether he puts you in the shaft head first or feet.”

“Maybe I’ll wait till after the job to bring it up.”

“That’s what I’d do. Or never. That’s even better.”

“Yeah. The more I think about it the better never sounds.”

Once the brothers had grappled Eddie onto twelve, they lay back on the floor, sweating and breathing hard.

“You two girls having a spa day?” said Eddie.