Chapter Eight Kindness Costs Nothing
West
Unknown: Did you find the guy you were looking for?
West: It’s a woman, actually.
West: I think she might be my soulmate.
Unknown: Quit joking around.
Unknown: Our whole plan hinges on them.
Unknown: What if they choke?
West: Relax. I’ve got everything under control.
“Twenty dollars for a chicken wrap the size of my fist,” Adelina mutters bitterly as she sits next to me on the bench, foodstuffs in hand. “Prices like this should be illegal.”
“What do you expect?” I ask, shoving my phone into my pocket. I feel it buzz, but Diana will just have to wait. “It’s the airport. Everything is overpriced.”
We’re among the first at the gate, so we have our choice of seats and enough privacy to converse without fear of being overheard. For now, at least.
Adelina slouches as she eats. “Tell me the plan again. Go over every possible detail. I want to really nail them down.”
“I could write it down for you if you’re having that much trouble remembering.”
“And leave evidence behind? Absolutely not. I’m just trying to be thorough.”
I throw her a wink. “Are you sure it’s not because you love hearing the sound of my voice?”
She sneers, but I’m positive it’s because her sad excuse for a chicken wrap is as tasteless as it looks. I’m a considerate guy, though, so I start at the very beginning.
“After being run out of Italy by his own family, Valentino Berruci managed to make quite a name for himself in France. He quickly gained influence over local gangs in Paris and worked his way up to controlling the entire territory. He now has a private villa located on the outskirts of Nice where he not only resides but also runs his operations.”
Adelina snorts. “Shitting where he eats isn’t exactly a good idea.”
“An oversight that we’re going to take advantage of,” I say with a shrug.
“Berruci primarily specializes in racketeering, but it’s gotten to the point that he even has some major politicians under his thumb.
Using their influence and connections, he’s been able to break into the arms market with little to no pushback. ”
“Filthy rich and a villain,” Adelina muses dryly. “A match made in heaven.”
“Don’t sound so pleased. Berruci may be a megalomaniac, but he still has to maintain some level of order. He keeps track of every euro earned and spent. His ledger is kept in an encrypted file on his computer server. That’s where you come in.”
She nods, polishing off her chicken wrap. “Sounds simple enough.”
“Right, except his servers are protected by a specialized firewall modeled after the one they use at interpol. Any attempts to break through security protocols from the outside will result in the immediate wiping of all data—and his ledger along with it. That’s where I come in.
“Since it isn’t connected to the internet, hacking in will be impossible, but if I can locate the physical domain controller and connect you directly with remote-access software, you’ll be able to open a VNC backdoor without ever stepping into harm’s way.
Once we have his financial records, you’ll locate his mule accounts and drain them into your own through the swift banking system.
Berruci will be left with nothing, and his operation will crumble overnight without proper funding. ”
Adelina studies me with a healthy dose of skepticism, her lips pressed into a thin line. “How do you know all this stuff?”
Oh, the things I could tell her. I wonder how she’d react if I told her I’d already tried this job once.
I was so desperate to get out that I did every ounce of research possible, bribed every source I could to get information on Berruci’s setup.
Knowledge is the only thing that gives a thief their edge, and I had diligently worked to gather as much as I could.
But even with everything I knew, I realized that it wasn’t a job I could do on my own.
I understood what to do in concept, but I lacked the technical know-how, in the same way that I understand the importance of the human circulatory system but am by no means qualified to perform open-heart surgery.
I needed help, and none had been available at the time.
I was stuck, and I certainly wasn’t going to risk leaving Jack behind.
But Ms. Choi changes all that. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s going to be the ace up my sleeve.
“It’s my job to know,” I say, despite knowing how much she hates my vague explanations.
Adelina has the good graces not to continue pushing, though I can sense the irritation washing off her in waves. “Fine, so that’s the end goal. Steal his money and destroy his criminal empire.”
“Two birds, one stone,” I agree. “Provided you’re actually as good as you think you are.”
She glares at me, and I hold back a laugh.
She’s just so serious, her brow knitted together in a permanent scowl, her eyes dark with never-ending concentration.
I’m tempted to make her smile, if only to see how painfully awkward it’d make her look.
Like the Grinch discovering he does, in fact, have a heart.
“Anything linked to the internet is hackable,” she explains. “Once you connect me, it’s just a matter of time and skill.”
“Show me.”
Adelina glares. “What?”
“I want to make sure I’m in good hands, Ms. Choi. I’d like a demonstration.”
“Stealing two-fifty wasn’t good enough for you?”
“Could have been a fluke.”
“You’re one to talk. You say you’re going to carry out the job, but I haven’t seen you do anything remotely impressive.”
My ears perk up. I know she’s baiting me, but I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge.
I look her over and spot the glint of her wristwatch, its strap made of precious white gold.
It’s the fanciest thing on her—and it’ll have to do.
I may be rusty, but I can use this as a warm-up, at the very least.
“Do me a favor and stand,” I say.
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
With a reluctant huff, Adelina does so. “Now what?”
“Hand me your backpack.”
She squints at me. “What are you playing at?”
“Nothing,” I reply innocently.
Adelina gives me her bag, holding it out by the top strap. “If you run off with my shit, I’ll kill you.”
I take it with a chuckle, trapping her hand beneath mine. I step forward and crowd her space, treating her like I would any other mark, dipping in close to ensure she keeps her eyes on me. Her eyes go wide, full of distrust and suspicion.
“That’s all I needed,” I say, stepping back. “You can sit down again.”
She gives me a murderous glare. “Was there a point to all this?”
I hold her watch up by the strap, savoring the way realization creeps its way across her face.
It was easy enough to lift. Using her own bag as shade to hide my handiwork was Pickpocketing 101.
Having her follow all of my commands was simply a tactic to overstimulate her senses, drawing her attention elsewhere while I worked.
“You motherf—” She swipes it out of my hand, quickly securing it around her wrist.
“That’s not all,” I say, producing her passport and boarding pass that I pinched from the front pocket of her sweatshirt. I’ll confess that I only wanted her watch, but what can I say? It feels good to show off.
Her jaw drops. “How did you do that?”
“A little sleight of hand, a bit of misdirection. You were so distracted that you didn’t even notice.”
“Great. I teamed up with a magician.”
“Are you not impressed?”
“Pull a rabbit out of your ass and then we’ll see.”
“Tough crowd,” I say with a grin. “It’s your turn, Ms. Choi. Fair’s fair.”
This time, she does roll her eyes, but she moves to pull her laptop out of her backpack. She boots up the device and looks around, no doubt cooking up some elaborate scheme. Getting to see her in action brings with it its own sort of giddy fascination.
Her gaze falls upon a small group seated a few feet away at our neighboring gate—a flight out to Miami, Florida.
An exasperated mother of three struggles to tend to her little ones, the eldest being no older than five.
The poor woman is clearly out of sorts, her messy red hair pulled up in a lopsided bun, the rims of her eyes red and watery.
She tries to soothe her youngest, who’s bawling in his stroller, while the other two treat the area like their own personal playground.
Sympathy tugs at my chest as I think about Jack back home in Sacramento.
I wonder where the woman’s partner is. Maybe she’s a single parent, like me.
Given her prickly nature, I fully expect Adelina to scoff at the children running amok.
I wouldn’t be surprised if she was the type of grouch to make underhanded comments about the woman’s lack of organization or some cheap shot about poor parenting.
But then she surprises me by standing up and handing me her laptop.
“Hold this,” she says before making her way over.
I take it and look down in surprise. It’s nothing special.
Password protected, so I have no hope in hell of snooping around her files.
What catches my interest, though, is the solitary sticker she’s placed next to the power button.
A sunflower, its edges worn and colors faded with age.
I find it strangely amusing. Adelina doesn’t seem like the type to enjoy flowers, or stickers…
or act like the world hasn’t been sapped of sunshine and color.
When I look up again, I find Adelina speaking to the frazzled woman out of earshot.
Even if I strain to listen, the airport is a cacophony of distractions.
Announcements play over the speakers in both English and French.
Suitcase wheels rumble over YVR’s floors of blue carpet.
The man sitting directly behind me has decided now is the best time to rip into his bag of particularly crunchy vending machine chips. Those were probably overpriced too.
Adelina remains with the woman and her kids—even lets one of them sit on her lap.
She’s…surprisingly sweet with them. At ease.
Even cracks a small smile or two, which admittedly throws me for a loop.
I thought for sure the effort would kill her.
Adelina doesn’t return to my side until roughly twenty minutes later, the children now seated quietly at their mother’s side as she pulls out an iPad for them to watch cartoons.
“What were you talking about over there?” I ask her.
She takes her laptop back and plugs in her password, her fingers a fluid blur. Adelina simply shrugs as she works. “Nothing.”
“You were gone for a while.”
“Aw, did you miss me that much?”
“Like the stars miss the night sky.”
“Are you a poet now too?”
“What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”
“Endless chatting isn’t a talent.”
“Ow.” I try to peek at her screen, but she rotates her body so that I can only see the back of her laptop.
“Do you mind?” she grumbles.
I give her some space. I suppose I wouldn’t be able to work with someone breathing down my neck either.
Adelina types what I assume is the equivalent of a short novel, totally focused on the task at hand.
Her frown has returned, the softness I thought I saw complement her features now hardened steel.
She shuts her laptop abruptly and returns it to her backpack.
“Well?” I ask. “What did you do?”
“Hmm? Oh, I was just drafting an email.”
“What about—”
“The demonstration?” she interjects sharply. “Oh, please. I know what I’m capable of, and I know I have what it takes to see this job through. If you expect me to bend over backward and jump through hoops just to satisfy your need for a power trip, you can go ahead and suck my dick.”
I burst into a fit of laughter, partially out of nervousness and mostly because her bluntness startles me. “You’re very mean, Ms. Choi.”
“Cry me a river, pretty boy. I’m not going to tone it down just to make you comfortable.”
There’s a lot I could say to this: that I wouldn’t expect her to, or maybe that I’d think less of her if she did. Not that Adelina would care about my opinion. Instead, I gasp dramatically. “You think I’m pretty?”
She pulls out a pair of wireless headphones and an e-reader from her backpack, blocking me out completely.
I wonder what she likes to read. Books about coding seem a bit boring, even for her.
Maybe she enjoys spicy romances. If things are getting raunchy on the page, her dead-eyed poker face gives nothing away.
Then again, it could be a gruesome horror.
She seems like the type to indulge in a good slasher.
While I’m busy musing, an announcement plays over the airport speakers. “Will a Ms. Julia Anderson please come up to the service desk?”
The mother of three whom Adelina was speaking to earlier looks up, clearly taken aback at hearing her name. She manages to corral her children together and makes her way up to the gate’s service desk.
“First class?” the mother of three gawks loud enough for me to hear. “I don’t understand. This has to be some kind of mistake.”
“It seems we have a very full flight,” the service attendant says with a smile. “You and your little ones were randomly selected for an upgrade. Congratulations!”
“Oh, gosh, I…” The woman laughs, breathless. “Thank you so much.”
I can’t help but smile. She clearly needed this break; her joy is downright infectious. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Adelina thoroughly invested in her book. Something tells me that their fortuitous upgrade wasn’t random at all.
She takes no credit, makes no fuss. Unlike me, Adelina doesn’t have an ounce of showmanship. But I suppose at the end of the day, that’s exactly what I need.
No bullshit. All skill.
I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone more fascinating.