[center] [img]  http://orig14.deviantart.net/3521/f/2012/200/a/0/death__s_head_hawk_moth__by_katerinachadoulou-d57ve0q.jpg  [/img] [/center] 

Chloe Van Cleer gazed down at her dull silver watch, through a faint haze of sleep mist. 

[i]5:30[/i] 

[i]Way too early for this fucking bullshit[/i].

She was cooped in the front seat of an old mustang cabriolet, with a small cup of hot chocolate and a jelay to keep herself warm. She took a small sip of her drink, feeling the warm tinge bubble over her lips, before turning her attention back to the house she was staking-out, on the verges of Gotham’s diamond district. 

Chloe had been here every day for the past week, watching the same routine unfold. Two cars in the driveway, up until quarter past seven. Dad left for work. Mum took the kids to school at half past eight. No cars in the driveway. Stayed like that until three PM. 

Perhaps she was being unnecessarily thorough, but, unlike most criminals of her stature, she’d managed to stay out of jail so far, and she’d done that by being careful. She had no criminal record, she wasn’t known to the GCPD, and she intended to keep it that way. 


“Yo, Moth!” Her walkie talkie crackled to life. 

“Top of the morning to you, Garfield.” Chloe groaned sleepily, rubbing her eyelids. 

“You got eyes on the house?” 

“Yeah, man.” Chloe held down the button as she spoke into the walkie talkie “By my ingenious calculations, we’ve got  another two and a bit hours before dad leaves for work.” 

“Rad.” Came the reply “we pull this one off and it's champaign and caviar instead of cheap booze and take out.” 

“Speak for yourself, kid,” She snorted “I’m ordering myself a extra large pizza with stuffed crust once this is done.” 

“How the hell are you not fat?” 

“I’m the single mum who cut down on 1 kilo of belly fat by using this miracle weight loss supplement.” 

“You spend way too much time on the internet if you’ve got that memorized.” 

[hr] 
Once the door was open, Chloe quietly made her way into the house itself, a mere few minutes before Garfield was scheduled to be joining her. The hallway was well-furnished, but was nothing too fancy. 

[i]Nothing that I haven’t seen and/or broken and entered before.[/i] 

She swept into the kitchen, ready to start snatching and grabbing, when she stopped suddenly, dead in her tracks.

“Good Morning, Miss Van Cleer.” 

A well-groomed man, in a fine suit which was hand-tailored to his toned body, sat elegantly by the kitchen table. 

“My name is James Wesley, and my employer is very interested in speaking with you.”