Sparks

At least the first task of the evening would be easy. Opening up my right palm to reveal the treasure hidden within, I grinned to myself. There nestled inside my hand was a set of car keys. Sporting the familiar three triangle emblem, they were the keys to a Mercedes saloon. When I landed on the floor, on my knees in front of him, I didn’t actually think he’d shoot me, but it wasn’t worth taking the risk. It also gave me ample opportunity to land heavily against him and whip his keys out of his pocket. I’d had a feeling I might need them, and my hunch had proved correct. Opening the car was going to be a cinch. Everything after that would be a bastard, but at least the car would be relatively painless.
Pressing my ear to the door, I listened for sounds of movement outside. I gave it a minute, but in that time I heard nothing. Maybe James had decided I wasn’t much of a threat with my arms tied, and had finally gone to bed. It was time to find out.
Pulling the door lever down sharply, to minimise the resulting squeak, I paused and listened intently. It was still deathly quiet. Good. Then I pulled back and… nothing. What the hell? My jaw dropped. He’d locked me in! How had I missed that? Geez, I was slipping. No wonder there wasn’t a sound to be heard. The man had nothing to worry about. I was locked in a room with my hands tied up. How much trouble could I be?
Urrghh. Next time I came on assignment I was going to hide my lock picking kit in an internal cavity. Honestly. Biting my lip in frustration, I did a few deep yoga breaths to get some perspective on the situation. In through the nose and out through the mouth. In through the nose, sod that. What was I thinking? Where did I need to be? Outside. Were there any other exits out of the room? Yes. There was a window. Was it locked? I ran over to check. No. Fan-bloody-tastic. This could still work.