Her reconnaissance had been thorough.
Before crossing the gap between the homes, she reached into her pocket and pulled out several blobs. They looked like sticky toys - the kind that kids threw at walls. They had been colored the same shade as the house’s bricks. When thrown, they stayed wherever they hit, like spitballs on a chalkboard. Inside each was a powerful transmitter that would pick up sounds, even through a brick wall.
They were the latest gizmos in her bag of tricks.
Aided by the breeze, she tossed the rubbery splotches across the narrow stretch of grass between the homes. They splatted softly against the side of Kozlov’s house. The sound of their impact was so quiet that it was drowned out by the pounding surf. Before long, the outside wall was lined with devices. They were nearly undetectable.
Within seconds, data streamed from the bugs to her earpiece. She listened to their chirps and interpreted their sounds as her eyes scanned the darkness below. She wouldn’t begin until she was sure the coast was clear. Anything less would lead to certain death, and she enjoyed life too much to risk it.
A full minute passed. Then another.
Midway through a third, she had heard enough.
It was time to commence the breach.
She reached inside her cargo pocket and pulled out a small baton. It was painted matte black. She pulled on either side of the device to extend it. It grew longer than any layman would expect. Two feet, then five, and finally ten. She repositioned her hands in the middle of the baton while swinging it in tight little circles. Telescoping sections continued to grow from both ends. It lengthened while getting impossibly thin - as well as impossibly straight - until it was twenty feet long.
It was the exact length she needed.
Wasting no time, she extended the baton between the two homes. To her, it looked like a long, black sliver of air, as if a demon had sliced open the night. Even if someone from the house had been looking, they would have been hard pressed to see it.
Next, she angled the far end of the baton toward a balcony in the rear corner of Kozlov’s house. She positioned the far tip between two banisters and made sure it wouldn’t shift. Then she laid her end of the baton on the edge of the roof and quietly tapped a long, arched nail into the wood. Once it was secure, she slid her end of the baton into the hook - just enough to hold it in place, but shallow enough that she could pull the baton free once she had reached the other side.
Kozlov’s balcony was lower than her position by about twenty degrees. That angle was nearly perfect. She took a deep breath, checked the chasm for eyewitnesses, and then climbed over the lip of the roof. Without pause, she grabbed the baton with both hands and slid across the narrow gap like water down a string.
In less than five seconds, she had glided from one house to the other like a cloud across the moon. She pulled herself over the railing and onto the scenic balcony. She stuffed the baton inside itself, then shoved the device into her pocket.
A moment later, her hands were on the curtained French doors that led to the rear of the house. Her gloved fingers moved quickly and quietly, as if assuring the door that everything would be fine. She kept at it until she heard a click.
A wide smile spread across her face.
Her blank mask revealed nothing.
With a twist of her wrist and a turn of her body, she stepped inside the most expensive and most heavily guarded house in Brooklyn.
3
She entered the house and immediately froze in place.
Her surprise had nothing to do with alarms or warnings. It had to do with the striking difference between the exterior of the house and its lavish interior. From the outside, the house appeared to be an extra-large Colonial on a nice street in Brooklyn. Inside, the place was more like the Taj Mahal, the Winter Palace, or Versailles.
It reeked of wealth and opulence.
The master bedroom yawned around her, like the treasure cave of the forty thieves. The sheer scope of the white walls and the wooden floor was incredible. Kozlov and his guards could have played basketball in there - it was that high and wide. The cathedral ceiling had sloping sides with multiple skylights. Each had a motorized shade. A king-size bed with a hand-carved mahogany frame sat along one wall. Magnificent bureaus and dressers lined another. Elaborate panel molding adorned them all.
As she was admiring it, a warning chirped in her ear.
Someone was approaching.
She went from still observation to quick, silent movement in the blink of an eye, racing across the floor to the master bath just as the bedroom door opened. With steady nerves, she crouched next to the elevated soaking tub and hid in the shadows. From there, she was able to use the large bathroom mirror to her advantage.
She watched the reflection of two muscled men in severe dark suits as they entered the bedroom. They flipped on the light and walked across the room toward the balcony window where she had been a moment before. Neither man had seen her.