Chapter 2 - Distance - Phantom

The hallway was overly bright, row after row of awful, yellowish, strip lighting. The walls had that hospital, clinical look to them, broken up with the occasional painting. He hated hospitals. He finally came to the end of the hallway, to the dull silvery/gray of the elevator doors, a cool female metallic voice drifted out of the speaker mounted in the wall. "Good morning..." there was a slight pause as the computer scanned his access card, acquired his file, cross-referenced his clearance and found the audio file for his name, "Mr. Phantom." He grunted an acknowledgment. Why would anyone want to give intelligence to an elevator, in his eyes elevators were a big enough security risk as they were, without giving them a computer brain, to hack. But Carmen would not listen and he wasn't really that bothered, he never stayed at the headquarters for any long period of time anyway. He stepped forwards into the air conditioned, finely carpeted, stainless steel coffin and stabbed the mute button on the keypad, the ‘music' that normally played the tinny, mind numbing, art gallery type tune, had been replaced by some heavy metal guitar riff and a male voice that sounded as if he was in great pain. Sarah must have gotten bored again, he thought to himself. The elevator slowly descended. After what seemed like an age the doors slowly opened to reveal the dimly lit, grubby garage. All the shadows and small areas of invisibility were oddly homely but Phantom didn't have time to enjoy this feeling. The heist had a date hanging above it and arrangements had to be made before the job itself could even be thought about. The key stowage was hanging loosely off the wall, the nails holding it in place rusted through and the pad lock thrown to one side, someone had been in a hurry. He removed a set of keys, unlocking the main entrance and strolled over to a nice black sports car, not your average stock model mind you, this car had a reinforced chasse, was completely bullet proof, fitted with one way reflective glass, a bio-print ignition system and a few more specific modification for his line of work. Upon sitting down the cars automatic systems had already measured his height, weight, body temperature and adjusted itself to fit his needs. What was with all the technology these days, when he was growing up he had nothing but a homemade lock pick set and his instincts, that was all he needed to ‘acquire' an adequate living. Now he was irritated to see street punks plugged into all sorts of gizmo's just to steal some old ladies purse. He shook his head violently, what was wrong with him, he was becoming distracted so easily these days. He removed the finger from the glove that encased his right hand, his skin was deathly pale and there was no finger nail on the end of his finger. He placed his digit onto the small square of glass like substance and after a moment, the car always took longer for him due to the fact he had no fingerprints to read and it had to go through other directories to start the engine, it purred into life. The car surged into the night like death itself was chasing it but when there is no-one in any direction for hundreds of miles you can afford to be a touch reckless. The drive was a relatively short one, only half an hour or so but quite enjoyable none the less, for the winding roads and the miles of barren wasteland with its thinning layer of snow and ice had a certain kind of neglected charm. He pulled up and exited the vehicle, sharply slamming the door to make sure everyone within earshot knew he had arrived. The air strip had already been informed of his arrival and a plane was ticking over idly in one corner of the makeshift runway, while a gaggle of henchmen, the usual no brainer, muscle men who Phantom hated to work with more than anyone else, were packing crates and other such important items into the loading bay at its rear. Henchmen have their uses like you can use them as a smokescreen to make your escape or to carry items for you or even as chauffeurs but on the down side they can't think for themselves, they're as clumsy as a herd of blinded elephants and they will not hesitate to tell the police everything they know, once they get captured. Thus if he could help it he never worked with them. A rather short man slowly trudged up to him, battling the wind, dressed in a large black trench coat with its collar pulled up around his face. The pilot's eye's widened when he noticed the covered face of Phantom but his professional nature suddenly stifled the look of surprise that had moments before gripped him. "I take it you are the client I am taking into England, you know in this day and age it's not as easy as it used to be," the man spoke with a very British accent that didn't fool Phantom, this man was nothing but a low budget pilot making a living flying anything to anywhere, no questions ask. "You are getting paid well above what you are worth, so let's get flying before your cheap cologne suffocates me," Phantom had such a way with people; he never understood why people were always so hostile to him. Leaving the pilot shaking with suppressed rage, Phantom pushed passed him and with heavy footsteps boarded the rickety metal platform that lead into the air craft's main body. The henchman all looked up as he did this, each receiving a chill down there spine as their eyes locked on with the mirrored lenses of Phantom's spectacles and they all suddenly moved allot faster to get their jobs done. Phantom through himself down into one of the planes many empty seats. All the energy he had mustered was now depleted but to sleep in unfamiliar surroundings, amongst people he didn't know was insanity, so he reached into his jacket and retrieved a small notepad and pen and began to write down a plan for how to steal such a heavy item from such a crowded location and not wind up having a nice all expenses holiday, to her majesty's prison.