Thomas watched him disappear toward the heavy internal doors of the Inner Vault. He sat back, a small, genuine smile playing on his lips. The crushing boredom of the morning had been replaced by a sharp, invigorating curiosity.
"Maybe this job isn't going to be so bad after all," he chuckled.
His mind began to piece together the profile of the man with the spiral scar. The man was too arrogant to be a mere courier. He carried himself like a field operative who had seen the worst the world had to offer.
The surge of adrenaline was intoxicating. Thomas had spent the last hour fearing his brain would turn to mush from inactivity, but the arrival of that first box had jump-started his internal engine. He sat up straighter, his eyes sharp and focused on the corridor.
