Taybean Cressida and Reecey Reno, Detonation Specialists, 2099

Taybean Cressida, her neon kaleidoscopic hair a stark contrast to the inky night, crouched by the razor-wire perimeter fence. Beside her, Reecey Reno, mirrored monogoggle reflecting the fence's electric current, adjusted the timer on the palm-sized explosive.

"Three minutes til guard rotation, Tay," she murmured, voice low, but crackling with anticipation.

Taybean grinned, "Plenty of time for Mrs. Alcott's priceless porcelain collection to meet its fiery demise."

They weren't thieves in the traditional sense, they were more like mercenary vandals, their services highly sought after in the cutthroat world of the ultra wealthy.

With a practiced flick of her wrist, Taybean launched the explosive. The world went white, the fence dissolving in a satisfying roar.

A hundred meters and they were blasting through the compound and into the vault, laying waste to the collectibles with their sonic jammers and having a right good time of it.

They made a discreet exit just in time.