One lone camera monitored the gate. Hmm. Gravel, right where he needed. Now to test his aim.
Pop, pop, crash!Walter might have something to say about Lucky taking the camera out, but the absentee owners of this warehouse paid good money and did ask for a thorough assessment of their weaknesses.
“Careful what you wish for,”his boss often said.
He rounded the corner toward the loading docks. Two guys lounging against a pickup truck nodded his way and went back to smoking and talking. Dumb asses. He’d lay good money it wasn’t even their break time.
Climbing onto the loading dock took a little effort, especially when he tried his best to get noticed. And not even a camera to dodge. No challenge at all. He might as well have stayed back at the office. This slack-assed place didn’t deserve a man of his skills. He should’ve sent a rookie.
At least the door required a key card. Rigging the damned thing wasn’t worth the effort. He flattened himself against the wall and waited.
Soon enough, a trio of guys stumbled out the door, yelling greetings to the two by the truck. Lucky bumped into the last guy. “Oh, sorry.”
“Watch where you’re going, asshole.” The guy took off after his buddies, minus his access badge.
Three minutes from street to inside the building. Not Lucky’s best time, but… oh, who cared anymore if it took three minutes or three years? Too easy. Please! Would someone give him a challenge already? When breaking into buildings got boring, it was time for a more exciting job.
Man, did these people have something against lighting? How did order pickers see in the warehouse? Camera to the left, facing down the first aisle, camera to the right facing the last aisle. Lucky sauntered down the middle with his hands in his pockets, whistling past carton-laden racks filled with everything from headache remedies to cough syrups.
“What took you so long?” Johnson lounged at the far end of the aisle, arms folded over her chest.
Lucky grinned. “Paused to take a break. Meet any resistance?”
“Nah, told ‘em I came to fix the warehouse phone, and they let me in. Aren’t they supposed to escort visitors?”
“Yup.”
“And when I reached the security door, some guy I’ve never met before in my life winked, stuck his badge in the reader, and opened the door for me.” She removed her hat and fluffed out her hair.
“Spot any cameras on the way in?”
“Four. But since the guard waved me in, I’m not expecting company anytime soon.”
“Let’s do this.” Lucky made a beeline toward the good stuff at the center of the building. With any luck, he’d stolen the right employee’s badge.
As he’d figured, a heavy steel cage sat in the middle of the floor, filled with cardboard boxes lined up neatly on rows of racks. The cage door popped open at a swipe of the pilfered ID. Yes! Someone trusted Mr. Donald Carson enough to give him access to the restricted area.
The guys had sauntered out back for a morning break, and likely wouldn’t return for fifteen minutes or so—more if they lacked time-telling abilities like warehouse workers from past experience.
Boxes labeled “oxycodone” and “hydromorphone” sat on racks. Damn, those belonged in a secured vault, not a flimsy cage.
And only one sweeping camera in here. How stupid. Time it right, duck beneath a rack while the camera panned Lucky’s way, then grab a few bottles of evidence. Johnson caught the whole thing on video from right outside the cage.
Five, four, three. He darted from under the rack and raced toward Johnson, who opened her toolbox and placed their bounty inside. He eased the cage door shut. “Meet you back at your Jeep.” Lucky didn’t bother waiting for an answer, and the only worker he met waved and kept on walking. Moron.
He kind of hoped a guard or someone would search Johnson’s toolbox, but didn’t hold out much hope.
The guys out back had formed a huddle. The tell-tale scent of burning pot reached Lucky’s nose. Oh yeah. Time for the owners of this warehouse to do some major housecleaning.
And he’d send a memo to Atlanta’s finest, arrange a possession bust.
He dropped the stolen badge on the dock and left the same way he’d come in, snapping a few pictures and beating Johnson to the Jeep by a good two minutes.
She huffed when she got in. “I would’ve made it here sooner, but I got cornered by the guy who winked at me. He… uh… got a bit too pushy asking for my phone number.”
Crap. “You didn’t hit him, did you?” Walter frowned on such. Lucky should know.
“Nah. Told him my girlfriend didn’t like me dating other people. He shut his mouth.”
