Lucky Bastard

Lorenzo motioned for his men to follow suit as he crept forward. "Gents, we stick to the plan. We're after a quiet approach," he whispered, his voice barely audible even in the stillness of the night.

Adam, Max, and the rest of the crew nodded their understanding. They skulked single file through the shadows, hugging the perimeter of the mayor's property. The house loomed before them, its size imposing but not insurmountable. The fence that enclosed it, while sturdy, was of a height easily surmounted by men of their caliber.

Lorenzo went first, leaping nimbly onto the top of the fence and deftly scaling it without so much as a creak. He landed on the other side with the grace of a seasoned cat burglar, his footsteps silent on the damp grass below. One by one, his men followed suit, each man as stealthy as the last.

Once they had all breached the perimeter, they huddled together, crouched low in the shrubbery. "All clear," Lorenzo mouthed, his eyes darting from window to window, searching for any sign of movement within.

The lack of movement from within the mayor's residence was almost unnerving. It seemed that most of the guards had been lulled into complacency, patrolling the perimeter and leaving the interior seemingly unguarded.

Lorenzo, quite cautious, raised a hand, signaling his men to hold their positions. His experienced band of miscreants knew the drill, having honed their skills together on the battlefields of Europe. Max, Patrick, Richard, Julius, and the others who had fought alongside him in the war flawlessly read his silent commands, while Adam, Mike and the others, though less practiced, followed suit.

Adam, Henry, and Julius melted into the shadows on one side of the garden, concealed by the dense foliage. Meanwhile, Richard, Max, and Patrick slunk towards the house, pressing their faces against the glass panes to survey the dimly lit interior. Richard, the lookout, caught sight of a guard rounding the corner and quickly shook his head, gesturing for the others to retreat.

Lorenzo, Mike, and Ricky huddled together, preparing to deal with any guards they might encounter. Each man had been schooled in the art of silent takedowns, their hands itching for the opportunity to put their deadly skills to use.

Hidden among the lush foliage of the mayor's meticulously manicured garden, Lorenzo and his men held their breaths as two guards strolled by, their flashlights slicing through the darkness. The beams of light danced across the ground, illuminating the path before them but thankfully not straying towards the intruders' hiding spots.

Lorenzo, crouched low behind a marble statue, caught Max and Patrick's eyes and signaled for them to act. Like panthers stalking their prey, the duo silently closed in on the unsuspecting guards. In one fluid motion, they clamped their hands over the guards' mouths and delivered swift blows to the back of their heads with the butts of their revolvers.

The guards crumpled to the ground, their bodies limp and unconscious.

Lorenzo gestured for Max and Patrick to drag the guards back to their original hiding spot. Once there, they quickly relieved the guards of their uniforms, donning the crisp, dark suits themselves. Sunglasses in place, they stood tall, mimicking the postures of the very men whose clothes they now wore.

As planned, Max and Patrick sauntered up to the three guards stationed at the front of the house, their stolen uniforms and sunglasses providing them with the perfect disguise.

"Hey, mates," Max drawled, affecting a casual air as he gestured to the cigarette dangling from the first guard's lips. "Do you have a smoke to spare?"

The guard eyed them suspiciously but eventually relented, plucking a cigarette from his pack and handing it over. "Thanks," Max said with a grin, accepting the offering.

"Wait, aren't you two new here?" The second guard asked, his brow furrowing. "I don't think I've seen you around before."

Patrick, playing the role of the quieter one, simply nodded in response, not wanting to risk giving away their ruse.

"Ah, I see," the third guard chimed in, oblivious to their charade. "You must be the new recruits we heard about. Just arrived a few days ago, eh?"

Max and Patrick nodded in unison, striking up a casual conversation with the guards to keep them distracted.

Meanwhile, taking advantage of the distraction, Lorenzo and the others slipped into the mayor's vast mansion through a side entrance. They moved like ghosts, each man fanning out to clear the ground floor, their eyes peeled for any sign of the other guards or servants who might be awake at this hour.

The grand hallway of the mayor's residence lay eerily empty, the only sound the ticking of an antique grandfather clock in the foyer. Lorenzo straightened to his full height and gestured for his men to follow suit.

"Adam, Richard, and the rest of you," he whispered, jerking his head towards the ground floor. "Search every nook and cranny. We can't afford to leave any stone unturned."

His men nodded their understanding and dispersed, melting into the shadows as they went about their task.

Lorenzo turned to Henry, Mike, Ricky, and William. "We're headed upstairs. Stay on your toes."

Lorenzo whispered, addressing Henry and the others. "I'll start with the rooms related to Mayor Bowron. If I don't find anything, I'll head to his room. Keep it quiet, understood?

Another round of silent nods, and the remaining group crept single file up the grand staircase, each step creaking under their weight despite their best efforts to tread lightly.

Once on the second floor, they split up, each man disappearing into the labyrinthine corridors of the mayor's opulent abode.

Moving silently, Lorenzo's trained ears picked up on the sound of footsteps in the hallway. He ducked into a nearby alcove just as a bleary-eyed maid shuffled past, oblivious to his presence.

Once she was out of sight, he continued his search. Coming across a promising-looking door, he found it locked. Undeterred, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a slender piece of metal. With practiced ease, he set to work picking the lock. The tumblers clicked, and the door swung open with a barely audible creak.

Lorenzo slipped inside, his steps muffled by the plush carpeting. The room was spacious and opulent, adorned with portraits and paintings that spoke of the mayor's inflated sense of self-importance. In the center of the room, a four-poster bed dominated the space, its occupant fast asleep, blissfully unaware of the intruder.

Lorenzo's focus, however, was on the locked drawers in an adjoining room. He set to work, picking the drawers lock.

Inside, he found nothing but personal effects and mementos, none of which seemed to hold the incriminating evidence they sought. Just as he was about to give up, his gaze fell upon a framed photograph tucked away in the corner.

The image depicted a smiling young woman flanked by the mayor and his wife, all three of them beaming for the camera. Intrigued, Lorenzo picked it up for a closer look. His heart skipped a beat as he recognized the woman's face.

"Mica." Lorenzo's mind raced as he stared at the photo, memories of his time with Mica during the war flooding back to him. He had never expected to find her here, in the mayor's home, let alone as the woman in the picture.

Gently, Lorenzo picked up the framed photograph of Mica and tucked it into his jacket, his heart heavy with the revelation before him. He couldn't dwell on it now; he had a job to do.

He turned his attention back to the bedroom, where a person lay sleeping, her features serene beneath the covers. With a sigh, he approached the bed and began to carefully peel back the blankets, revealing the woman's face.

It was Mica.

"What are the odds," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief.

As he turned to leave, however, Mica's eyes fluttered open, her instincts as a woman kicking in. She squinted at the dark figure looming over her, her vision blurry without her glasses.

"Wh-who are you?" she croaked, her voice hoarse with sleep.

In a split second, Lorenzo's training kicked in. He couldn't afford to take any chaises. He quickly covered Mica's mouth with his hand, silencing her cries of surprise.

"Shh," he whispered urgently, "It's me, Mica!"

Her eyes widened as she recognized his voice, and she stopped struggling. Slowly, he removed his mask, revealing his face in the dim lamplight.

Lorenzo could see the panic in Mica's eyes begin to subside, so he cautiously removed his hand from her mouth.

"Lorenzo?" she asked incredulously, her voice hoarse with disbelief. "Is this a dream? Am I dreaming about you again?"

He chuckled softly, "I'm real, Mica. I'm here."

Her eyes widened in surprise and joy, and she reached out to touch his cheek, as if to confirm he was real. "You're really here!" she breathed, but he quickly shushed her, pressing a finger to his lips.

"Shh! Be quiet," he whispered urgently.

Mica nodded, her heart pounding in her chest.

"What are you doing here?" she mouthed, her eyes wide with curiosity and fear.

"It's a long story," Lorenzo said, shaking his head. His eyes narrowed as he asked, "What about you? What are you to Mayor Bowron? Is he your fiancé you're talking about?"

Mica giggled, nudging him playfully. "What? No, silly. He's my father."

Lorenzo's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "He's your father?"

Mica nodded, a smile playing on her lips.

A glint of cunning entered Lorenzo's eyes as a new plan formed in his mind. "Actually, I'm here for your father."

Mica's brow furrowed, but she pressed on. "Really? What for?"

"Your father's a corrupt mayor," Lorenzo explained, lowering his voice. "And I'm here to find some incriminating documents about him, and retrieve them."

Mica's eyes widened, but she quickly masked her shock.

"You don't seem very surprised," Lorenzo observed.

Mica's eyes narrowed as she shook her head, the memory of her father bringing a sour taste to her lips. "No," she spat, "I hated that man. He forced me into an arranged marriage, even though I couldn't stand the fella." Her gaze shifted to Lorenzo, her voice tinged with suspicion. "And just why do you want to get your hands on my daddy's dirt, huh?"

Lorenzo's lips curled into a smirk. "I'm here to use it against him."

Mica's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Simply put, once I have the goods on him, he'll be in my pocket." A chuckle escaped Lorenzo's lips.

Mica's eyes widened in disbelief. "You don't plan on sendin' him to the slammer?"

Lorenzo shook his head. "Nah, I just want the mayor to dance to my tune."

"But why?" Mica pressed.

"Don't ask too many questions," Lorenzo said with a grin, "Just know that if your old man's in my pocket, we could... you know, free you from that loveless marriage."

Mica's eyes widened, hope shining in them. "Really?"

Lorenzo nodded. "Cross my heart. I ain't lookin' to put him in the slammer. I just need him to do a few favors for me."

Mica's face lit up, excitement dancing in her eyes. "Can I help?"

Lorenzo feigned surprise. "You want in on the action?"

Mica nodded vigorously. "Yes! I can show you where Daddy keeps his confidentials in this house."

"That's swell," Lorenzo said, a genuine smile creeping onto his face. He was glad he'd upped his Luck stat in his system attributes.

"Then, after I'm free of this marriage," Mica blushed and stuttered, "can- can we... you know... be together?"

Lorenzo just smiled as he admired Mica's beauty. Though she reminded him of Megan Fox in her prime from his previous life, he found Mica even more captivating. "We'll see where the road takes us," he said, trying to hide his growing arousal.

Mica's cheeks flushed as Lorenzo's hand found her breast through the thin fabric of her sleeping pajamas. Her heart raced, and she couldn't help but remember their last sex together a few months ago.

"Oh, you don't wear a bra to bed?" he teased, his voice low and husky.

"N-no," Mica stuttered, blushing even more. "I don't see the point when I'm alone."

Lorenzo's strong, calloused hands massaged her breast, sending shivers down her spine. "You still remember our time together, don't you?"

Mica nodded, unable to form words as desire pooled between her thighs.

Lorenzo chuckled, his breath hot against her neck. "That's what I thought." He reluctantly stopped groping her, and Mica whimpered in protest.

"Well, enough of that," he said, his voice gruff with restraint. "Time to get to business."

Mica nodded, her body still tingling from his touch. As he helped her up from the bed, she couldn't resist hugging him closer, her head resting on his chest. "I really miss you, Colonel," she whispered, finally finding the courage to say what she'd been feeling.

Lorenzo's strong arms wrapped around her, his hand caressing her hair gently. "I know," he said, his voice thick with longing. "But we have to focus on the task at hand. I need those documents, Mica."

Mica's cheeks flushed as she nodded, and she led Lorenzo through the dimly lit halls of her father's mansion. They reached the Mayor's office, and Mica turned to him, her voice barely a whisper. "Wait here. I'll check if Daddy's awake."

Lorenzo nodded. He waited tensely, before fomally, the door creaked open, and Mica beckoned him inside.

"Quick," she breathed, ushering him into the room. She pointed to the Mayor's desk, indicating the top drawer on the right. "I think he keeps most of his confidential stuff in there." Then, she moved to a sturdy-looking safe in the corner. "And this... this is where he keeps his money and other important documents."

Lorenzo's eyes glinted. "Perfect. You've been a big help, Mica."