Chapter 28
Twenty-Eight
Raven
“Cameras are looped ,” Tasha’s voice says in my ear. “ You’re good to go.”
“Ready?” Cole asks me.
I take a breath, let it out slowly, and give him a nod.
There’s so much that can go wrong with this plan.
Meridian Pacific at nine on a Sunday night is dormant. But that’s a relative statement; it still has security. The guard on the desk is Cole’s job, and mine is to get him close enough.
We head for the doors while the rest hang back, around the corner. Dario, Declan and Kurt… and I’m not very happy with any of them.
Kurt, for springing this on me at five minute’s warning, like I’d have refused if he’d told me sooner.
Dario, for saying I can’t do what Kurt wants me to do.
Declan, for suggesting it’s too dangerous. When he’s all over the place of late, lecturing me one moment, lying through his teeth the next. I know he is, and I don’t know why. I’ve given him every chance…
I kill the thought. It’s a distraction I can’t afford.
Instead, I cling to Cole’s arm and smile up at him, playing the role.
Out of the corner of my eye, Declan clenches his fists. Staring at Cole like he wants to slam him against a wall, like he did to my neighbor.
Then we reach the doors.
They rotate at a slow speed, Cole pushing against them like it would make any difference when they’re clearly automatic. The guard behind the desk is watching us. The lobby’s otherwise empty, expanses of marble floor and a few chairs for waiting guests.
“…then we’ll get a pizza,” Cole says, as we walk in. “But none of your pineapple this time. That’s just evil.”
Whether he intended to or not, he’s picked a good cover argument: I happen to like pineapple on pizza. “What? Pineapple lifts it. That bit of sweetness compliments the spice of the meat.”
“Honey, you’re sweet enough to compliment my meat.” He gives me a grin that would have Declan’s fist in his face if he only knew, even without that line. Which of course he’s heard, courtesy of the open throat mics we’re wearing beneath our jacket collars. The faint growl in my ear proves it.
Cole leans on the reception desk, gesturing at the guard to draw him into the conversation. “Pineapple on pizza? Tell her she’s wrong.”
The guard isn’t interested. “This is a private facility. You’re going to need to leave.”
“Dude, chill. We just came in for directions.” Cole gives him an easy smile. “I need a decent pizzeria for the lady tonight, and I don’t know this area at all.” He leans in a little. “She gets all happy and willing when she’s fed, if you know what I mean.”
“Fucker.”
Dario’s voice cuts in fast. “Cool it, Declan.”
“He’s talking to her like she’s a—”
“It’s an act. Cool your head.”
Declan’s a distraction I could do without; I missed whatever the guard said.
“I don’t know where that is,” Cole replies. He turns his back, leaning against the desk, and waves his hand as though mapping a route. “So it’s out of here, left, and left again?”
“No, man,” the guard says. “Down Kearny, then right on Bush and follow it five blocks.”
Cole rubs the back of his neck, looking confused. “That’s… uh…”
I lean on the desk and give the guard my best smile. “Could you show us? Just wave out there, to start us off?”
He didn’t want to get out of his seat for Cole, but he seems happy to do so for me. He walks around the desk, and I make sure to keep my smile enthusiastic and vapid as he takes my arm, pointing out of the glass frontage. “So you just go out the door and—”
There’s a crunch and the guard crumples, Cole catching him before he hits the ground. I didn’t even see what he hit him with.
“Clear,” I tell the others.
It’s only seconds before they walk into view, heading for the revolving doors, equipment bags slung over their shoulders. Declan’s scowling through the windows at us. At me, like I’ve done something wrong. Cole’s dragging the guard out of sight behind the desk.
Declan walks right up to me, his hand closing around my arm. “What the fuck was that?”
I shrug him off, but it takes me two tries. He’s gripping hard enough that I’d have bruises if I wasn’t wearing my leather jacket. “What’s your problem?”
“My problem is that you were flirting with Cole,” he hisses, keeping his voice low, pitched for my ears alone. Pointless when we all have mics, but he’s so angry, he’s either forgotten or he doesn’t care.
“I wasn’t flirting with him.” I didn’t even respond to Cole’s comments… though I suppose I clung to him. “So what if I did? It was an act. You’re being childish.”
“Childish?” he echoes. “Answer me this: do you and Cole have something going?”
“That’s none of your business.” How the hell can he think that? The smart answer is a straight no, but he’s got me riled up. Where does he get off making accusations like that? He doesn’t own me.
“Cut it out, both of you,” Kurt says. “This isn’t the time.”
Declan throws him such a look that I fear he might get even angrier, but instead he takes a long breath and lets it out. Then he walks past me, not giving me another look.
He chooses now to have some unfounded jealousy spat? Great.
Cole pulls an ID badge from the guard’s unconscious body and throws it to Dario, then secures the guard with zip ties on wrists and ankles.
It’s done in no time, and Dario uses the badge to call an elevator.
Declan joins him, his back to me, radiating negative energy and promising the ride up will be fun.
As if we don’t have enough to worry about already.
Cole throws a provocative grin my way. “Coming, sweetheart?”
Declan’s shoulders tighten and his fists clench, but he doesn’t turn around.
“Yeah.” I wasn’t dawdling; I was distracted. Cole did that on purpose, but I can’t blame him. Declan’s being a dick.
We file into the elevator, and Kurt hits the button for the fifty-fourth floor. That’s all the way to the top, but the elevator makes short work of it, skipping through the first half fast enough to pull at my stomach.
Dario uses the time to unzip his bag, pulling out the thermal lance. It’s a tube about six feet long, packed with magnesium, and apparently burns hot enough to cut through steel. Cole has his bag open too, handing out our parachutes and weapons.
I strap my ’chute on then check my pistol, slipping the magazine and slamming it back in, then shove it down the back of my pants. I really hope we don’t need them. The rest of the guys are doing the same, save for Dario, who’s strapping an oxygen cylinder to his back instead.
Kurt presses a finger to his earpiece as the doors slide open. “Tasha? Are you in on their network?”
“Yes. My device is broadcasting. Ready when you are.”
“Down the hall,” Kurt tells us. “First left, halfway to the end. Then right. Vault’s near the building’s core.”
“How do you know?” Declan asks, voice almost a growl.
“Because I paid for the fucking plans. Stay focused.”
It’s an executive-level floor, mostly open with pillars every dozen yards and offices around the walls to take full advantage of the views. It’s dim, the space lit only by security lights, and it’s dark outside. We’re too high up to get much help from the city.
I pass a potted plant that looks like the one Declan bought for his apartment, and give it a glare. I don’t need that reminder right now.
Cole has his weapon out, taking the lead. Kurt’s behind him, ready for instructions if needed. Dario’s following, the thermal lance over his shoulder. That leaves Declan right behind me, bringing up the rear, and I can feel his eyes boring into my back.
We jog through the floor, and it’s quiet. We know there’s more security, but it’s a building with a capacity of nine thousand. Somewhere, there’ll be people here working—a handful of office workers spread through the building, a cleaning crew maybe—but there’s no one in sight.
Cole stops outside a heavy-duty door with a fingerprint scanner beneath a keypad. The walls are reinforced too, and there’re no desks in this area.
“Tasha, we’re in position,” Kurt says.
“Standby. Spoofing the access server in three… two…”
A green light illuminates beneath the keypad, and the door’s locks disengage with a click. Inside, there’s a column of steel plating a dozen feet in diameter, with a door that wouldn’t look out of place in Fort Knox.
“All right,” Kurt says, staring at it with his hands on his hips. “This is where it gets real, people. Dario, you can start. Cole and Declan, you two seal the stairwells. Genesis, you stay close with me.”
“You get the one near where we came in.” Cole hands Declan a fistful of zip ties. “I’ll get the other.”
Dario’s already putting on an oxygen respirator, and a welding mask over that. Kurt fixes the second oxygen tank to the back of the lance, then slaps his shoulder, and Dario enters the vault.
“Sealing you in,” Kurt says, closing the door behind him. With the amount of smoke that thing is going to give out, I give Dario about four minutes before he can’t see his hand in front of his face. “Ready to roll, Tasha.”
“Killing the elevators. Clock starts now.”
“Eight minutes on the lance,” Kurt says. Then he glances at me, turns his mic off, and nods for me to do the same.
I flick the switch, giving him a curious look.
“Inside that vault, there’s a little black box that I’m going to give you,” he says quietly. “Whatever you do, please don’t let it out of your sight.”
“Uh, sure.” My brow furrows. “Why me?”
“Because you’re my best rider.”
“Great, but… it’s a black box, not a stash of jewels or a bag of diamonds. Why don’t you take it, if it means so much to you?”
He smiles, thin and humorless. “Because they’ll expect me to have it.”
“Right…” He won’t answer, but I ask anyway. “Who’s ‘they’?”
“Better that you don’t know.”
Sounds ominous.
“What’s the black box?”
There’s not a flicker across his expression. “Better you don’t know that, too.”
Figures. “What do I do with it?”
“Keep it safe, and I’ll take it off you after this is all over.” He pauses. “If you have to choose between the black box and the diamonds, choose the box.”