Page 114 of The Criminal's Custody

I hope.

I really should not be here.

This is dangerous. This is trespassing.

If I were caught here, I’d be dead without a shadow of a doubt.

And I know it.Oh, I really know it.

The stone wall is cold against my face, but I am forced to stay here in this uncomfortable position as I wait and wait and wait.

Waiting until the guard – unsuspecting of my presence – slowly walks past the wall on the other side of me.

I patiently squat in cover until he is safely gone before Ileap over the wall and head straight toward the large building.

Directly toward my goal.

I reach the building’s wall undetected.

My breath is quick.

My heart rate is fast.

I really should not be here.

It’s cold tonight. The stars are dim. It is a perfect night to sneak into a heavily fortified compound on the edges of the city.

No one would ever believe someone could actuallysneakin here.

But they did not take me into account.

I am a man who, when he puts his mind to an impossible task, executes it with planning and precision.

No one would ever believe someone could infiltrate Handsome Jack’s private mansion, but they haven’t metme.

I’m here, on the outskirts of New York City, to get my revenge on Handsome Jack: the man who burnt my brewery to the ground. I want him to pay for what he did.

Handsome Jack’s place is an opulent mansion; it’s all perfectly crafted balconies and terraces overlooking fountains and a manicured yard. I would even dare to say it is similar to my own home back in Crystal River.

The architecture is done in an Italian Renaissance style, with towering columns supporting the grand portico entranceway. The rest of the building is a grey stone.

The security here is a heavy presence. As can be expected. Men in black uniforms with automatic rifles. Dozens of them scattered around the place on constant surveillance.

He really doesn’t think anyone could break in here, does he?

I cautiously make my way around the wall of hismansion to one of the locked back doors, shuffling alongside the wall to keep me out of sight of any wandering eyes belonging to a security guard. I’ve been planning this operation for days, barely eating or sleeping, as I map out this attack on my rival. I’ve studied maps of this building - everything that Jim and I could find of the layout of this mansion.

But preparation is nothing when you are actually out in the field executing your plan.

Anything can go wrong now, and it can go wrong spectacularly. The odds are against me.

I really should not be here.

I see the door I want further along the wall, just as I planned it would be.

But there is aslightproblem...

A security guard smoking just outside - an unexpected obstacle that really puts my plan in jeopardy. It looks like he isn’t going anywhere, and I realize with a dread that if he simply turns to his right, he will see me clear as day.

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