"Are you trying to tell me that we can’t do it?"

She whirled around mid-step, her red hair flowing over her shoulders in a cloud of flame. The look of anger on her petite face caused her elder counterpart to mask his smile. This was not meant to be a laughing matter but the girl had such emotion, it was almost comic-like. He paused to think before replying, rubbing his chin with his hand.

"Mara, I didn’t say that exactly. I just said not yet."

The young woman put her hands to her ears and continued walking.

"I don’t want to hear this now, Luke. Not right now, please."

The tall, early greying fellow sighed with exhaustion. It was only mid morning, but he felt like it was time for bed. They had been planning this bust for months, but he predicted they had many more to go before the decision to act could be final. The strain of working with a rookie was wearing him down. He jogged up to the tiny figure disappearing in the distance.

The young apprentice screwed up her nose as she weighed up going for broke or sitting around for another year. She was ready, ready now. She didn’t know why her preceptor had so little faith in their operation. She followed closely behind him as he made his way towards a small café.

"Can you calm down? You’re like a bloody kid on Wizz-Fizz."

He nodded at the waitress behind the counter and watched as she began filling a mug with hot water. The girl bounded over and sat down at a table, her crisp, white shirt crumpling around her tiny waist as she descended. Meanwhile, the man waited at the counter, eventually approaching the table with a sachet of sugar, a teaspoon and a cup of tea on a saucer. The mentor placed the items carefully on the table before removing his restricting overcoat to reveal a brightly coloured waistcoat over a dull, greying shirt that hid a well-toned body, achieved with much effort. He sat down gingerly on the lightweight chair after draping his coat across the back. Methodically, he opened the sugar packet and poured it onto his teaspoon, dropping that into the porcelain mug and stirring seven times before placing the spoon on the saucer as he carefully lifted the cup to his lips, blowing across the top to cool the steaming liquid.

The woman, only slightly more than a girl, leaned over the table towards her guide and looked around suspiciously. The man sighed for not the first time that day, once again regretting his being paired with a rookie. His last big case, and he couldn’t singly claim the victory. If there would be a victory. He was distracted from his thoughts by the bouncing red hair. And that whiny, aggravating voice.

"What about that guy? He looks like the guy in the photo. Maybe we should follow him. Luke?"

"Mara, we’re not following anybody. We’re taking a lunch break."

"But LOOK at him! I’m sure I’ve seen him before somewhere. Can’t I just follow him for a little while? Please?"

"MARA! This job is not a game! It’s called real life, and we’re right in the middle of it. So just drink your... what do you call that, anyway?"

"Uh, it’s a moccachino."

"Whatever. Just drink it and shut up."

"But Luke, if we don’t catch them at it now, we may never! What if they get a whiff of what’s going down – "

Her manicured nails rapped across the table over and again. His hand slammed down to silence her.

"On the record, I’ve dealt with these guys before. That’s why over half the gang’s behind bars. They make mistakes. Eventually, everyone makes mistakes."

He stopped, his eyes registering amusement for a fleeting moment.

"Off the record, what kind of an insult is ‘schmuck’, anyway?"

He leapt up and grabbed his coat, walking off as a waitress approached the table timidly, almost opening her mouth before the young woman growled and ran after her moody partner. She caught up to him as he pulled a packet of cigarettes from his waistcoat. She watched humbly as he retrieved the last cigarette from the carton, his hand shaking as it drew the ‘smoke’ up to his mouth while he scrunched the packet with his other hand and threw it at the nearest bin. Slowly he lit the cigarette, inhaling so the flame would catch. The young woman frowned candidly, a look of seriousness briefly crossing her face.

"Smoking will give you cancer, you know."

"It’s not funny, Luke. My father died of lung cancer when he was forty. He didn’t listen to me either. How old are you, Luke? Thirty-eight, maybe thirty-nine?"

The man exhaled slowly, a cloud of smoke engulfing the two as they stood in silence. Her damn emotions again, he thought disapprovingly. However, he made an apathetic attempt at a response.

Of course, she took his comment to be sincere, yet she was still upset.

"Don’t apologise. Half the population smokes, I’m not asking them for individual written apologies."

He sighed inwardly. Where does she get off? He asked himself. Doesn’t she realise I’ve heard all this before?

"Okay. After this one, no more. I don’t think you realise how much I need this one."

He looked into the face of the agitated youngster, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

He dropped the cigarette and put it out with his shoe, a final gasp of smoke rising up to the sky. She looked into the face of the tall figure who was frowning at the glowing bud wedged into the pavement.

"Luke."

"Mara."

He hesitated before replying, weighing up the odds stacked against them to those in their favour. He also began to think that the sooner the bust got started, the sooner he’d be rid of her. Finally, he shrugged.

At last content with the answer, the little redhead flipped backwards and slapped her companion on the shoulder with a whoop of excitement before regaining her composure.

"Let’s go."

"Yes, now."

They walked briskly to the harbour, the sun setting quickly behind them. As they rounded a corner, a large grey building confronted them. It looked foreign amongst the blue-green water splashing up against the dock only metres away from the entrance to the building. Out of place surrounded by the beauty of the aging timber warehouses, it was this grey building that was their target. The closer they got, the quieter their footsteps, the heavier their breathing. The large steel door appeared larger as they approached, however a smaller, more accessible door was concealed to the left of the steel monstrosity. Luckily, they knew its location. The tall man, hunched over in a vain attempt to appear less lanky, stopped only metres from their entrance.

She nodded in reply, producing two brand new chrome plated guns from behind her back.

"Let’s do it."

"Five minutes."

"Five minutes to get in and back out again. Now listen up. Your guns are loaded?"

"Yep."

Another sigh as the man began to look forward to the end of the day.

"Now remember, we’re in control. We’ve got the moves. We’ve got the power behind us, they don’t. Don’t let them intimidate you."

"Okay, I’ve got it."

"Let’s go, then. And keep quiet."

The two figures crept up to the old, rusting door as their shadows followed them on the wall of the grey building. The taller silhouette moved stealthily, quietly. The shorter shadow shook uncontrollably but followed close behind the leading figure. Slowly, carefully, the man turned the handle, prepared to enter the building. It was unlocked. He quickly pushed it open as the two people stepped into the dimly lit warehouse.

Freeze - police!

As soon as the words were uttered, gunfire erupted throughout the building, echoing off the concrete walls.

Silence was all that followed as the sun set over the old harbour.