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────021, all that glitters is gold.
BY NIGHT FALL, THE PLAN IS SET IN MOTION.
It takes them all day to prepare and gather equipment for their perilous venture into the Crain house, but with gold on the line everything had to be foolproof━━even for John B. Eventually, they all reconvene at the Chateau and pack into the Twinkie, dressed appropriately for the occasion of pillaging (a fact that Cleo was trying desperately to avoid because it wasn't necessarily stealing if the gold didn't belong to anyone, much less the elderly Ms. Crain━━but surely her father would have a heart attack if he learned of her trespassing). The excitement within the van is a bristling energy felt amongst all, and hanging heavy in the air; the closer they get to the house, the more intense it becomes.
At some point, as John B guides the van down the twisting narrow roads of the street leading up towards the Crain house, he begins asking aloud the mental checklist of items needed for the night. "All right. You guys got rope?"
Pope, who is seated in the passenger seat, twists about to nod in JJ's direction. Understanding the wordless cue, the blonde boy reaches for the bundle of rope next to him and brandishes it to Pope.
"Got it." Pope says back to John B.
"Grappling hook?" John B asks.
Pope rolls his eyes, settling back in his seat. "We don't have a grappling hook. We're not Batman."
Various snickers sound from the van, mostly echoing from the three girls crowded together at the back of the Twinkie.
"Pulley?" John B asks.
Kiara nods as Cleo's eyes flutter over the mass of equipment next to them━━a series of ropes threaded through a wheel which was then attached to an axle. "Check."
Realizing his droning checklist must start to become a tedious chore as the group have meticulously picked through Heyward's shop and John B's shed and the salvage yard JJ's father had worked at for their supplies, John B instead chooses to ask humorously, "Dark clothes?"
The question definitely didn't need an answer, the group looking near ridiculous shrouded in black clothing. Even Cleo is adorned in a pair of tights and an oversized black shirt tied at her waist; her amber locks have been pulled back into a braid, framed by a black bandana laying on the crown of her head.
"Got it," Cleo and Sarah murmur together.
In the rearview mirror, Cleo spots John B grin. Then, another thought popping into his head, he asks, "Flashlights?"
