Travis stared down through the gaping hole he had smashed in the skylight of the office where he used to work and shuddered at the absurdity of his plan.
He stood on the top of the converted warehouse, sweating and shaking. The cold night breeze pummelled against his eyes, partly obscuring his view over the Isle of Dogs. The twinkling monolith of Canary Wharf towered above him. The reflection of silver-blue moon rippled in the hazy waters of the Thames. A solitary tug glided into a deserted wharf. The rope burned against his lacerated palms. He harnessed it carefully around his wrist, yanked at it to ensure the grip was robust
His eyes strained to discern the familiar shapes of his former working environment in the murky darkness below. Screensavers flickered on the computer monitors, sending indistinct waves of light out over the empty cubicles and desks. A week ago, he had held his head high in that same space, poised on the brink of success. Now, he had to break in, complete his dangerous mission, to stay afloat, to survive.
It was preposterous, the abrupt shift in his fortunes. He had been beaten to a pulp, betrayed by his girlfriend, exposed to fraud, sacked from his job, framed for high-tech sabotage and accused of murder.
He wavered, exposed on the asphalted surface, contemplating his descent into his former offices. A gust of wind from the east thumped into his patchwork of aches and bruises. The slightest clumsy movement could jeopardise the entire enterprise, scupper his final, desperate attempt to salvage something of his career and his life.
The rope flapped and dislodged a tiny fragment of glass. It spiralled to the office floor, exploding into a scintilla of shards upon impact. He tensed up, ears straining. A horn bellowed slowly, deeply, burying the smash and clatter of the skylight’s glass. Another foot out of place might alert the security guard.
He craned his neck one last time, quivering at the prospect of descent, knowing that the rope was not nearly long enough. He clenched his fists and pursed his lips hard, steeling himself to his task. His lungs ached as he breathed in the crisp, clean air. His battered ribs throbbed with pain.
Travis was burning on empty: it was time for the final throw of the dice.