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Lucien Kite Estate

October 29

L ucien Kite stood before Somewhere with his hands on his hips. The alarm was armed, the painting secure. Nevertheless, he refused to be outsmarted. Staring at the ceiling, Kite’s lips spread into an evil grin. He withdrew his phone from his pants pocket and placed a call.

When his man at the security company answered, Kite said, “I have a special order, a rush job.”

The man listened as Kite explained, “Can you install a pressure plate that releases a cargo net when activated?”

The associate readily agreed—for a hefty sum.

“And keep this between us. I don’t want anyone knowing it’s there.”

Kite ended the call and returned to his desk. He had been beaten by The Lynx twice. It wouldn’t happen a third time.