Jack moved fast, wet rain plastering his hair to his forehead. The bag felt heavy against his chest, but adrenaline pushed him forward.
Arron had texted the pin to the club's digital safe: WA088776654888GDVCTRRR7. Jack didn't hesitate. He reached the manager's office of Night Heaven, typed it in, and the safe clicked open.
Inside, stacks of cash, bundles of documents, and a few heavy packages lay waiting. Jack didn't pause to examine the contents. He grabbed a few kilograms worth of goods, shoving them into the backpack.
Then came the shout:
"Stop that thief! He's taking my safe!"
The bald, short, muscular club manager barreled out, fists clenched, face red.
Jack bolted, heart hammering, slipping through the side exit. The rain slicked pavement made him slide, but he didn't care. He had the bag, and Arron's instructions were clear.
He reached the rendezvous point Arron had specified: a dimly lit alley with a rusted metal door. He dropped the bag at the marked spot and waited.
"Open it," Arron said over the secure line.
Jack unzipped the bag. Stacks of cash, digital drives, and unmarked items tumbled out. Among them, $300,000 in crisp bills.
"Holy—this is yours?" Jack breathed.
"Half," Arron said calmly. "Split it fifty-fifty."
Jack's respect for Arron grew instantly. This kid—this genius—was thinking ten moves ahead.
He nodded. "Got it. You've got balls, man."
Arron's plan had worked perfectly. The drives from Night Heaven were destroyed. The other CCTV drive from the electronics shop was also gone. The evidence trail was gone. Isseren would have nothing to follow… yet.
Jack took the cash home. That night, he threw a small celebration with his friends. With this money, he could live comfortably for months on his usual low-budget lifestyle. The wine was cheap, the music loud, and laughter filled the room. But in the back of his mind, he couldn't shake the precision of Arron's instructions.
Meanwhile, Arron was already working on the next step. He had used a city-wide package delivery system, SwiftSend, to quietly send the remaining goods to safe locations across the city. The system was simple: a package could be sent to any address in the city, anonymously, and Arron used it to disperse evidence and valuables without drawing attention to Jack.
With the two CCTV cameras destroyed and the evidence scattered, Arron had minimized the risk to Jack. The cleverness of the plan did not escape him; it was a small but vital layer of insurance.
Across town, Detective Isseren stared at her screen. Hegel was beside her, eyes scanning the empty alley where the chase had ended.
"Both cameras are gone," she muttered.
Hegel nodded slowly. "They knew exactly what they were doing. Calculated. Professional."
Isseren's jaw tightened. "This makes me more determined. Whoever this is—they've crossed a line. And I will find them. They will answer for this."
But for now, the city slept, unaware of the invisible chess game unfolding. Jack counted his stack of cash, thinking of Arron. The kid had brains, guts, and foresight.
And Arron… Arron was already three steps ahead.