I stood in front of the flat's door while Tuck knelt with his lockpick set. I kept watch down both ends of the hallway. The corridor was narrow and quiet, beige walls, cheap carpet that had seen better years, and the faint smell of someone else's cooking drifting from a neighboring unit. A single fluorescent light flickered overhead. No cameras that I could see. No neighbors stepping out.
Tuck kept working the lock, tools making soft metallic clicks.
"Be quick, man."
"Hey, I got rusty, man. Chill. Let me work on this."
"I'm chill. You be quick."
"Man, shut up!"
He kept at it for another half minute. Then the lock gave a clean, solid click.
I patted him on the back. "My guy."
"Yeah, yeah. Now be quick. I'll wait outside. Close the door."
I stepped inside and shut it quietly behind me.
