I reached in and punched in my master bypass code on the keypad.

The light turned solid green, silencing the system.

I stepped into the warm, carpeted interior of the library.

The smell of leather books and expensive wood polish hit me.

It was exactly as I had left it, yet it felt entirely foreign.

I stood in the darkness, waiting for my eyes to adjust.

Above me, I heard the faint creak of floorboards.

Someone was walking in the hallway upstairs.

I pulled a micro-transmitter from my pocket and knelt by the heavy oak desk.

I pressed the adhesive backing of the bug against the underside of the desk drawer.

It clicked into place, invisible to anyone who wasn’t actively searching for it.

I moved toward the fireplace, placing the second transmitter behind the bronze clock on the mantelpiece.

This would capture any conversation in the main living area.

The velvet of the curtain was cold against my cheek.

I could smell the dust on the heavy fabric, a sharp contrast to the expensive cologne Grant was wearing.