On the twelfth floor, the Semtex exploded with a satisfying thud, muffled by the heavy cloth. A cloud of dust crept from the office across the lobby like a miniature sandstorm. Eddie and the others got up from behind the desk. Racer X looked at Eddie. When he saw the broad smile on the big man’s face, he relaxed for the first time that night.

Then what sounded like every alarm in California went off at once.

“We’re up,” said Coop. He and the others ran through the ninth floor as alarms whined all over the building. “We still invisible, Sally?”

“As a fat man at a Santa convention.”

Tintin and Coop moved up to the office. The door was already open, so they stuck their heads inside.

“You memorized the room?” said Coop.

“Yes,” Tintin said.

“Look carefully. Do you see anything that wasn’t on the plans that the buyer gave us?”

Tintin scanned the space while the sirens wailed.

“No. Nothing. It’s just like on the map. Mostly wards and a few binding spells around the display case. I don’t see any physical traps. They probably can’t use them in an office with so many people going in and out all the time.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” said Coop. Sally gave him his tool bag and he removed a hammer and a ziplock bag. Coop took one tentative step into the room and felt a cool sizzle in the soles of his feet where he stepped on some kind of curse. He took another step. He felt another slight vibration, this one from the wall. But it didn’t hurt any more than the first. Six more steps and he was across the room like it was nothing.

“Wait. Don’t touch that chair,” said Tintin. “There’s something new there.”

Coop looked and saw a wire, as thin as a single hair, extending from one of the hand rests and disappearing under the desk. Whatever was back there, he didn’t want to make it angry. He stepped carefully around the chair, imagining Phil sprinting around in his head looking for a way out. Working with live people is definitely a big step up, he thought.

When Coop reached the display case, he tugged the handle on the door, but it wouldn’t budge. No surprise there. A case full of valuable antiques? Of course it was locked. But he didn’t need Morty to open it up—this one was simple enough for him to get through on his own.

He smashed the glass with a hammer.

After a quick scan for more trip wires, he grabbed the middle box from the top shelf, dropping it into the ziplock bag. When he turned to go back out of the room, he felt his face doing something it hadn’t done in a long time. His lips curled up and suddenly he was smiling. So were the others.