He heard soft footsteps behind him. That didn't mean anything good.
Who would follow him late at night and in this narrow alley in the middle of the badly reputed port district?
Right now that he had turned the thing of his life and wanted to disappear with the loot!
Had one of his countless colleagues had the same idea, watched him and waited, only to relieve him of the fruits of his labor?
Or did the steps behind him belong to one of the countless law enforcement officers in this city and the steel figure eight around his wrists was about to snap shut? He could already be told to stop