Vesper Thorne

The air hung thick with the smell of rain-soaked asphalt and the distant wail of sirens. Inside the sleek, midnight-blue sports car, Vesper sat with her hands resting lightly on the steering wheel, her eyes, the color of storm clouds, scanning the rearview mirror. The soft glow of the dashboard lights illuminated the subtle tension in her jaw. She wore a dark, form-fitting racing suit, practical yet hinting at the dangerous elegance she possessed. A bead of sweat traced a path down her temple, but her gaze remained steady, focused. The muffled sounds of the crew inside the bank, the shattering glass, and the ensuing chaos were just background noise to her, a rhythm she knew intimately. She took a slow, deep breath, the scent of ozone and adrenaline filling her lungs. The earpiece crackled to life. "We're out, Ves! Now!"