Chapter Eleven Meet the Skeleton Crew
Adelina
“I prefer the term ‘investor,’ ” Diana says wryly, opening her arms to capture West in a hug. They laugh merrily as they kiss each other’s cheeks, long-lost friends reunited at last. The undeniable warmth between them practically takes up all the space in the room.
But then her attention turns to me and my stomach flips. She reminds me so much of a shark. Circling, waiting; trying to determine if I’m worth taking a bite out of.
“ ‘Qwerty,’ is it?” she says, only the faintest trace of an accent in her English. “What’s this codename nonsense?”
“It’s for my security,” I answer, unwavering. “Please respect that.”
“But you get to know my identity? That’s hardly fair.”
I look to West for…well, I’m not sure what for. Support, maybe? I understand the hypocrisy, but it’s too much of a risk letting her know who I am. What if they learn about my family? It isn’t that far-fetched a scenario where they might be used against me.
West waves a dismissive hand. “It’s fine, Diana. You have my word. This is just how Qwerty works.”
Diana crosses her arms over her chest, her lips pressed into a thin, unimpressed line. “So, you’re the hacker,” she says. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
I frown at West. I’d been keeping a careful eye on him, though clearly not careful enough. When did he manage to sneak off and spill my life story? “Is that so?” I murmur.
“He tells me you went to MIT.”
I set my jaw. This is already turning out to be way more information than I’m comfortable sharing.
Should I mention that I dropped out, or should I keep that little tidbit to myself?
Not that it really affected my understanding of computers and coding.
There are extensive resources online—for free, I might add—that supplemented my education.
And with only a semester left to complete my degree, I felt like I’d soaked up enough information to be self-sufficient.
But Diana is clearly trying to appraise me, surveying where my weak points are.
I, for one, am too jet-lagged to play ball.
“He talks a lot,” I reply evenly.
Diana arches her brow. “So it’s not true?”
“Who’s to say?”
“Are you normally so roundabout?”
“Only when I feel like I’m being interrogated.”
“There are risks to this job. I need to make sure you’ll take this seriously.”
“I think you’ll find she takes everything seriously,” West pipes up. “A real buzzkill, if I do say so myself.” I pin him with a glare, but he shrugs it off with ease. “Don’t worry. I’ve seen what she’s capable of. We can trust her.”
Diana clicks her tongue. “Trust isn’t a word you should take lightly.”
A tense beat passes between us, the temperature in the hotel suite dropping a few degrees below comfortable. West is the one who breaks the tension, sighing like the drama queen he is.
“Let’s not get off on the wrong foot, ladies. I’ll force you to hold hands and sing ‘Kumbaya’ if I have to.”
“I’d like to see you try,” I grumble.
Ignoring me, he continues, “Where’s Henrie?”
“Prison,” Diana answers. “Twenty years for armed robbery in Monaco.”
“Bannock?”
“Dead.”
West frowns. “What happened?”
“Old age.”
“Damn.”
I cross my arms. “I thought you said you had a crew.”
“I do have a crew. I just…haven’t kept the best tabs on them,” West says, making a face that means either he’s stressed or he has a stomachache. He takes a step back and holds a hand over his nose, watching me warily. “You’re going to punch me again, aren’t you?”
I grit my teeth. “Thinking about it.”
“What about Joseph?” West asks Diana. “Please tell me we at least got—”
The doors to the suite burst open with such force that it rattles the walls.
A man with curly brown hair dressed in a painfully bright yellow Hawaiian shirt rushes in.
Geometric tattoos spiral around both of his arms, a triangular pattern working its way up the side of his neck.
Everything about him is loud and flashy, like a bird with bright feathers trying to attract a mate.
“Holy shit!” the man exclaims, practically throwing himself at West with enough speed to break his neck. “I’m so happy to see you I could kiss you! Everyone told me you were dead!”
West chuckles. “Not dead. Just hibernating.”
“Fashionably late, as always, Joseph,” Diana says without any real heat. It seems that her earlier hostility is reserved just for me. “I hope you aren’t this tardy when the job is underway.”
“A thousand humble pardons, princess. I was in the middle of a high-stakes online poker game. You know there’s nothing I crave more than the thrill of going all in.”
“Did you win?” I ask sardonically.
Joseph finally notices me, his jaw dropping in what I can only describe as dumbstruck amazement.
“Who is this goddess among mortals?” he asks, moving to take my hand.
He makes a flamboyant show of kissing the back of my knuckles.
“I knew there was a reason I felt so lucky when I woke up this morning. What’s your name, my dear? ”
“Qwerty,” I mumble, shifting uncomfortably.
He regards me with an amused quirk of his lip. “Oh? I didn’t realize we were using codenames,” he says. “If that’s the case, you may call me ‘Agent Handsome.’ ”
I cringe. “Um…”
“Not to your liking? Yes, a bit of a mouthful. How about—”
“We aren’t using codenames,” Diana interrupts. The bitterness in her tone is undeniable. “Just her, apparently.”
Joseph shrugs, taking nowhere near the same level of offense. “Well, Qwerty, what are your dinner plans tonight? First time in Paris, yes? Let me buy you a drink. Then I’ll take you on a tour of a lifetime—”
“Give her some space to breathe,” West says.
He casually makes his way over, wearing that disarming smile of his as he places himself between me and his friend, and I…
I strangely appreciate it. Joseph is a lot to take in all at once.
Nice, but certainly more energetic than I was expecting.
I think it’s sweet of West to use himself as a buffer, but then he points at his nose and says, “I’d be careful around her. You think a door did this?”
Ah. Just when I was starting to tolerate the guy.
“This is Joseph Demarr,” West continues, tossing me a wink over his shoulder. “Fixer extraordinaire and our getaway driver. Anything we need, he’ll deliver.”
“Anything?” I ask skeptically.
“All you have to do is name it, my dear,” Joseph says with an unmistakable tone of pride. “I’m the guy who knows a guy. My network is as impressive as they come.”
“I assume your network primarily consists of poker buddies?”
Joseph laughs. “You’re not entirely wrong.”
“Enough,” Diana snaps, clapping her hands together twice like a frustrated primary school teacher gathering her students’ attention. “I know this is not the team you were hoping for, but it’s all I could manage on such short notice.”
“Not a problem,” West replies with a cool nod. “We’ll make do.”
I don’t understand his confidence. This is as bare bones as it gets, and I’m frankly feeling more and more apprehensive by the second. Maybe I should try my luck with the cops back home. I would much rather deal with prison than a half-cooked heist that’s already short one too many ingredients.
Joseph hooks his fingers together behind his head. “So what are we stealing, exactly? Please tell me it’s gold. Or an entire vault full of bonds. Ooh, please tell me there’s a long-lost Old Master involved. Those could go for millions.”
“We’re not stealing anything,” West explains. “Well, nothing physical. Consider it a reverse heist, if you will. We need to break in and leave something behind. Something that will take care of the work for us.”
Diana and Joseph exchange a confused glance. “What is that supposed to mean?” they ask at the exact same time.
“Gather around, kids,” West says. “Here’s the plan.”