“I am an exceptional thief, Mrs. MacLane; and since I’m moving up to kidnapping, you should be more polite.”
It went so wrong. One man gets loose in the building and it all goes to hell. It was genius; six hundred million and an airtight escape. It should have worked. It would have worked if that gun-toting cowboy hadn’t crashed the party. Yippee-kai-yay indeed.
The poetry of it all, the slow tango of perfect choreography that was to culminate in a dramatic flourish and me, luxuriating in the comfort only truly obscene wealth avails.
Instead I find myself here, falling to my death with the time to muse it all over and get really, really pissed. So it ends, the cowboy rides off into the sunset, and I……