[for justprompts] Wrong
Gwen Raiden had only been wrong once in her life. Okay, maybe twice. And there was that time with the mime, but she rarely counted that. Still, the operation had gone smoothly thus far, and the silk around her arm slipped off like water as she reached out to grab a few wires and short-circuit the power. The cameras, the locks, even the fancy air conditioning...would all be rendered useless. Next: the security. Few armed guards--nothing she couldn't slap around. It was always a bit more fun if a few of them were lookers. Then she'd listen for the sweet, victorious click on the combination lock and her toy prize would be waiting with welcoming arms. It was a step-by-step process she'd completed a hundred times over again. She could do it in her sleep.
But something had happened. She'd made some misstep along the way, and Gwen didn't have time to figure out what that was and correct it. She could hear shouting from the stairwell. Footsteps...at least ten men. It didn't make sense. She'd secured the building and put all its toy soldiers in a handy storage room. No way those guys were conscious, let alone as hearty and energetic as these newcomers seemed. They were closing in, and she didn't have time.
The statue was waiting for her in its glass case. A few quick tools and some stealthy maneuvers and the tiny gold sculpture of the Virgin Mary was all hers for the taking. She took a few seconds--just a few--to stare at the object, and shook her head in amazement at the lengths some religious freaks will go to just to acquire some silly idol. But who was she to judge? It was a big, hefty payout and she was rarely one to complain.
Her planned escape route was shot to hell, thanks to the shouting men approaching the safe room. And if Gwen wasn't quick on her feet, if she hadn't always had a plan B and plan C for these kinds of things (even if she almost never had to use them), she would have been screwed years ago. But with a grunt and a lowly uttered curse, Gwen embarked on plan B and made her way out of the museum and to safety.
She went over that operation at least twenty times after that, never being able to figure out what mistake she had made.
But something had happened. She'd made some misstep along the way, and Gwen didn't have time to figure out what that was and correct it. She could hear shouting from the stairwell. Footsteps...at least ten men. It didn't make sense. She'd secured the building and put all its toy soldiers in a handy storage room. No way those guys were conscious, let alone as hearty and energetic as these newcomers seemed. They were closing in, and she didn't have time.
The statue was waiting for her in its glass case. A few quick tools and some stealthy maneuvers and the tiny gold sculpture of the Virgin Mary was all hers for the taking. She took a few seconds--just a few--to stare at the object, and shook her head in amazement at the lengths some religious freaks will go to just to acquire some silly idol. But who was she to judge? It was a big, hefty payout and she was rarely one to complain.
Her planned escape route was shot to hell, thanks to the shouting men approaching the safe room. And if Gwen wasn't quick on her feet, if she hadn't always had a plan B and plan C for these kinds of things (even if she almost never had to use them), she would have been screwed years ago. But with a grunt and a lowly uttered curse, Gwen embarked on plan B and made her way out of the museum and to safety.
She went over that operation at least twenty times after that, never being able to figure out what mistake she had made.