The purple car stopped partway on the sidewalk in front of Thad. Thad got in and asked the driver, “So, Craig, why couldn’t you tell me earlier what it is that we’re robbing tonight?”
Craig smiled and said, “Because it’s too good, baby!”
“Since, presumably, we are on our way, would you be able to tell me now?”
“I found the clinic, baby!”
Thad leaned his head back and stared at the headliner.
“No, baby, the super-clinic.”
“There’s no such thing,” Thad responded.
“It’s on the 80th floor of an office buildings downtown. Accessible only through the window. It’s where all the meta-humans get patched up.”
“So? You want to steal super-medicine?”
“No, baby, you don’t get it,” Craig explained. “They’ve got to give stitches and shots to all these invulnerable types. Therefore, the clinic has needles and syringes made out of whatever those weaknesses may be.”
“Holy shit. It would also have files on what all those weaknesses are.”
“And samples of all their blood and DNA, baby.”
“We could sell that shit for a fortune.”
LATER:
Thad broke into a building near the clinic. Craig supplied the gun which fired the zipline.
“I figure we got five minutes before we’re made,” Craig said, handing Thad something small. “Wear this.”
It was a domino mask. “Wouldn’t they have heard the zipline?”
“That how half of them get there, baby!”
They slid across the night, into the clinic. Twelve irritable, injured super-heroes were waiting.
Craig greeted them, “Hello, fellow super-heroes!”