Chapter Two

"Okay people, I thought we would try something a little different this time." Abby announced.

The others raised their heads and looked at her with an anticipated look of surprise. Abby was well known for sticking with the tried and true methods regarding assignments.

"Instead of the small banks, the jewellery stores, we are going big. Really, big! We are going to take out an armored truck after its last pick up for the day. Are you game?" She sat back and waited for her announcement to sink in.

Originally when they had become a team of sorts about two and a half years ago, no one was a leader. Each of them came up with a different idea and then they would decide which idea was the best at that time. Some ideas were offered more than once and eventually came to fruitation. Then Abby, who was quick minded and could think on the go became their leader. They each continued to contribute ideas and she would weed them out. The past two years had been successful. They all had money in the bank; they had mutually agreed never ever to hit a member's bank. They had their investments. They were living a comfortable life.

Henry of course, was the first to respond. "Abby, you do realize that those trucks tougher and more secure now. And they did have that string of robberies a couple of years ago. Mind you nobody got away with much."

"I have that figured out, but first I wanted to know if everyone was interested or if we go to a plan B." Abby commented.

As they went around the table, everyone declared an 'aye'. They were all in.

"Well the way I see it, we will all come out with six figure . That spells retirement to me. We have done well but all good things do have to come to an end. This will involve a two or three month prep time. That will be the focus of our meetings. I will talk about assignments tomorrow. But for now, I want everyone to go home, think on this and let's see if we all feel the same when we meet tomorrow. Say ten o'clock. Okay?"

Heads nodded around the table, chairs slid silently back from the table. Jackets and coats were grabbed from the coat rack by the door as everyone departed from Abby's apartment.

It was large, it was quiet, it was secure. She had purchased it a year ago. It was, in reality, the top floor of an old brick warehouse. The downstairs was her studio and shop combined. She enjoyed painting to calm her. The concept of having a shop area adjacent to the studio was a brilliant idea. She was able to place her paintings there for sale and also have consignment crafts available. She enjoyed the thrill of organizing the robberies but her heart had become devoted to her business.

She had hired a young man named Andrew to oversee it. A salary and a small commission on everything sold was his income source. She let him rent a small area of her studio to work on his wire sculpture. He has a great deal of talent. Some of his works are of his inspiration and other pieces are specific orders he receives.

She truly was a good business woman. Her paintings sold well and she made enough from the consignment crafts to pay his wages and buy her art supplies. By selling just two paintings a year she had her building taxes covered. She was ready to retire to her business career.

She sometimes felt she was really an old woman in a young woman's body. Her mind was constantly working, constantly creating.