THE PLAN: Phase Two

The estate was lively with luxury, every detail designed to exude power. Crystal chandeliers hung like frozen waterfalls, their golden glow illuminating over polished marble floors. The air was full of scents of aged wine, rare perfumes and expensive cigars that for some reason were lit by two gentlemen with top hats. Guest were dressed in designer fabrics and heavy jewels hung across their slender necks. A string quartet played softly from an elevated stage, their music drowned by the murmur of expensive conversations.

At the center of it all, the auction podium stood elevated beneath an ornate dome. A man in a sleek tuxedo stepped onto the stage, his confident stride met with a round of applause. Waiters in crisp black-and-white uniforms slid between clusters of guests, expertly balancing silver trays full of glasses of champagne.

Beyond the main hall where the golden lights barely reached three shadows moved. Zuri, JC, and Musa maneuvered through the corridors with precise, measured steps. The air smelled of polished wood and expensive cologne – a smell they detested. Zuri’s breath was controlled, but inside, her chest tightened with unease. She counted the soft whirrs of the security cameras—three-second sweeps. Too precise. “She knows,” she thought.

Musa leaned in. “Something’s off.”

Zuri nodded, keeping her voice low. “The cameras are tracking. They’re looking for us.”

Without hesitation, she flicked open her burner phone and sent a single text.

Change of plan. Alpha house is a Go!

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Anita stood in the heart of the estate’s security system, surrounded by a wall of monitors. The flickering screens reflected in her eyes as she watched the intruders navigate her “estate.”

There they were. Three figures pressing against a wall, moving in perfect sync.

She didn’t flinch. She simply picked up her radio.

“Lock all exits except the main hall. Push them inside.”

A deep hum filled the estate as hidden mechanisms in the walls activated. Metal barriers began sliding into place with a hiss, sealing escape routes. One by one, the doors slammed shut cutting off pathways. On the screen, the intruders flinched. One of them—mouthed something before breaking into a sprint.

“Fuck, move!” Musa shouted.

Anita switched her attention to another monitor. Two more figures near the door to the vault. She picked up her radio once more.

“Vault section—Black Talon Unit. Level 2 security.”

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Meanwhile outside the estate, Shiko ran toward the old sedan, throwing the door open and sliding into the passenger seat. Ali barely looked up from his laptop.

"Are you watching the game?!" she asked.

“ Yeah, what’s wrong?” he asked.

She turned her phone toward him. “Zuri’s message.”

Ali’s expression darkened. “Alpha House. That didn't take long.”

Shiko didn’t hesitate dialing a number, her fingers tapping rapidly against the phone.

A low voice answered.

She spoke in code. Short. Precise.

A pause. Then, “Done.”

It was time for Plan B and their part had just began.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Inside, Brayo wiped his palms on his stolen catering uniform as he kept watch. The fabric clung to his skin, damp with sweat. The hallway was long and empty, but he felt the weight of unseen eyes.

Sifa crouched before the biometric scanner rolling her shoulders to steady herself. She pulled the duct tape she took from the trolley and bit a piece off. She pressed it against the scanner’s panel, the faint residue of a fingerprint transferring onto the adhesive’s surface. A technique they had perfected for a while.

She peeled it back carefully, then pressed the tape onto a thin latex glove. Slipping her hand into it, she positioned her finger against the scanner.

Beep. Access granted.

Brayo exhaled. “One down.”

But Sifa wasn’t done.

She reached into her bag and pulled out the compact jammer from earlier. A small tweak at the back revealed a second device—one Ali had rigged from an old calculator. This was for the next lock: a digital keypad.

She pressed it against the pad.

The numbers blurred as the device rapidly scanned for the correct sequence. It would input thousands of possible codes in seconds.

Then—

The lights flickered.

A low, mechanical clunk echoed down the hall.

Sifa and Brayo exchanged a look.

She grabbed her phone. No signal.

They were on their own.

Brayo peeked down the corridor—and his stomach dropped.

A group of guards. Coming fast.

With a swift motion, he grabbed Sifa and pushed her inside the vault. The door sealed behind them.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Zuri, JC, and Musa turned a corner—and stopped.

A thick steel barrier had slammed down behind them. The only open path led straight to the grand auction hall, where the elite of the city were gathered.

JC muttered a curse. “They’re locking us in.”

Musa scanned their surroundings. “Ngori”

Zuri’s mind raced. Anita wasn’t just reacting—she was leading them into a trap.

“We blend in,” she whispered.

JC gave her a confused look. “We what?”

Zuri didn’t answer.  Then without hesitation, she pulled off her shirt, revealing a black sports bra underneath. 

Musa and JC immediately turned away.

Zuri smirked and wore a black top then slid into a fresh white button-up jacket. “You two need to relax.”

Then she pulled Musa’s jacket inside out, revealing its smooth, neutral lining. JC buttoned up his shirt, straightening the collar. Within seconds, they were transformed. No longer intruders—just guests.

JC smirked. “Guess we’re auctioning today.”

"Yep." Zuri met his gaze. “Time to join the elite society.”

The moment they stepped into the main hall, the warm hum of conversation swallowed them. Waiters weaved past with trays of delicate hors d'oeuvres. JC snatched a bite-sized delicacy without breaking stride, chewing thoughtfully as he scanned the crowd. The guests barely spared them a glance.

FURTHER INFO FROM THE CHAPTER

Ngori - Trouble