Chapter Thirty-Six An Object in Motion Will Stay in Motion
Adelina
Confession: I think I’m going to barf.
There’s a reason why I’ve never been super into sports (either participating in or observing).
The anxiety of not knowing how things will pan out, mixed with the incessant little voice in the back of my head telling me my team has to win at all costs, inevitably leaves my nerves feeling like chewed-up bubble gum.
I check the clock on the electric car’s dashboard, trying to remember what it was like to breathe without this crushing weight on my chest. Diana sits behind the wheel, looking ahead and appearing as intense as ever. It’s only been three minutes. West still has time.
“God, I can’t stand this,” I grumble.
Diana says nothing. I’m sure she’s just as stressed as I am. And she probably doesn’t want to talk about it any more than I do.
Mm sai dam saam.
I count my lucky stars that it’s all quiet. Quiet means we’re still in the clear. No sirens, no alarms. Maybe West and Joseph are already making their miraculous getaway. I just have to put my faith in West to see this job through.
Click.
“Put your hands where I can see them.”
I turn, straining against my seat belt, swallowing hard when I find myself staring down the barrel of a gun. Diana has a pistol in my face, the hammer pulled back and her finger curled around the trigger.
I fucking knew it. Vindication would feel so good right now were I not about to eat lead.
“That’s terrible trigger discipline,” I say dryly.
“Shut up.”
“I know we never really got along, but this is low, even for you.”
“It’s nothing personal.”
“But what about West?”
“West and his harebrained schemes are the reason why I was locked away in prison while my father lay dying in a hospital bed.” Diana’s nostrils flare, a fire burning behind her dark eyes.
“I could have been there for him, but because West screwed up—because he abandoned us and let us take the fall—I couldn’t even attend my own father’s funeral. Do you have any idea how that feels?”
My mouth goes dry. I do know how that feels, to not be there for family in a time of great need.
And while I’m not unsympathetic, there are risks to this kind of work.
Diana should have known that going in. I’m positive that West never intended for anyone to take the fall, but I have a feeling that telling her this may be the fastest way to end up with a bullet in my brain.
“Let’s just stay calm,” I say evenly. “West didn’t do anything, Diana. He told me what happened that night. He had nothing to do with it.”
“Of course you’d believe him. You’re too emotionally involved.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Quiet—”
“Just put the gun away, alright? This night doesn’t have to end in murder.”
“Stop. Talking.” Her grip around the gun is so tight, I can hear the metal rattling. “I’m not going to kill you. Berruci wants to talk to you first.”
“Why?”
She shrugs. “None of my business. He only told me to bring you in unscathed.”
“You’ve been working for him this whole time?” I set my jaw, unable to think over the roar of blood past my ears. Slowly but surely, I put the pieces together. “You were the one who sent those men after me. And those outdated blueprints…Joseph gave us those on purpose. You’re working together.”
“You’re too damn smart for your own good,” she says.
I shake my head, silently fuming. As disappointed as I am with Diana, I’m mostly upset with myself for not seeing it sooner. The signs were all there; I just hadn’t bothered to look close enough.
“There are zip ties in the glove compartment,” Diana says. “Open it slowly and put them around your wrists.”
“And then what happens?”
“I’m going to take you straight to Berruci.”
“What about West?”
“Joseph has already taken care of him.”
That could mean anything. West could be captured. Hurt. Dead.
A shudder passes through me. No. No, I won’t even consider the possibility.
What I need to do right now is think. If I let Diana take me to Berruci, I’m as good as done for.
If I try to fight Diana, I risk being shot.
There aren’t very many options, but I would rather take my chances here than in Berruci’s clutches.
Diana doesn’t look like much of a fighter.
To be fair, neither am I, but a cornered animal is by far the most dangerous kind.
The fact that we’re trapped in the same car together is both an advantage and a disadvantage.
She’s at point-blank range but has limited mobility, her arm tucked up close to her body to keep her aim true.
How does she plan on driving us to the villa when she’s so preoccupied with keeping an eye on me?
The car.
It’s practically full to bursting with circuits that make up its onboard computer—a computer I can hack. My laptop is literally in my backpack on the floor by my foot. This is going to be dicey, but I’m not going to lie down and let Diana walk all over me.
Slowly, I move as though I’m going to open the glove compartment. Diana’s like a hungry hawk watching skittish prey, her gaze hot enough to brand my skin. I find the thick black zip ties in question, but instead of putting them on…
I swing my arm up and knock the gun away with all the force I can muster.
It goes off, a terrible ringing screaming in my ear.
Or maybe I’m the one who screams. It’s hard to tell with the adrenaline overriding my system.
The bullet hits the passenger-side window, shards of glass shattering everywhere, but the gun blessedly falls from Diana’s hand somewhere into the back seat.
She’s too stunned to move. Good. Her shock is my advantage. I snatch her wrist and pull her forward, cramming her arm through the steering wheel. I pull back hard on her hand and hug it to my chest, forcing her elbow to lock painfully.
“Let go of me!” she shrieks.
I apply more pressure. “Move and I’ll break your arm!”
She doesn’t listen. Diana claws at my face and my hair with her free hand. She struggles against my hold, but I don’t let go.
“What are you going to do now?” Diana demands. “We’re stuck like this, idiot. The moment you let go, I’m going to shoot you.”
Using the tip of my foot, I lift my backpack up by the strap and all but shove my hand inside, pulling out my laptop to roughly set it down on the dashboard.
It’s a trial and a half just to get it open with the way she’s fighting me.
I mis-click twice, nearly exiting out of the program.
I can’t be sure if I’m typing the code in correctly, or if it’s a jumbled mess.
I slam my fist down on Enter.
The engine rumbles to life all on its own.
Diana freezes, gawking at me.
“Here’s another demonstration for you, bitch.”
“Adelina, wait—”
With a quick press of the space bar, I run the next command.
The car puts itself in drive and begins to accelerate down the street.
It picks up speed, the air around us rushing over the hood.
Diana screams bloody murder as we go careening, hopping the curb to crash head-on into a tree, the motion throwing my laptop off the dash and sending it tumbling to the floor.
The edge of its hard case nails me in the shins hard enough that something cracks.
I release Diana’s arm at the last possible moment, allowing her to bring her arms up to protect her head, just in time for the airbags to go off with a loud bang.
In the same way I understand the physics behind flight, I also understand the fundamental forces at work when it comes to a car crash.
It’s not the impact but the abrupt stop in your momentum that hurts like hell.
I only managed to get us up to twenty-five miles per hour, but the resulting inertia is still enough to do some serious damage.
Praise be to the inventor of the seat belt, because while I do end up hitting my head against the airbag, I know it could have been so much worse.
I also know it was reckless, but I’m of the mind that if it works, it works.
It takes me a moment to collect myself, and to bring my hands up to check for any substantial injuries. I’m numb, for the most part, definitely in shock. I’m sure I’ll be in a whole world of pain later.
Beside me, Diana groans. Still alive, thank goodness, but out for the count.
Kicking the passenger-side door open, I stumble out and fall onto my hands and knees, mildly disoriented and very rattled. I check my laptop over hastily. Apart from a small crack in the upper right corner of the screen, it still works.
In the distance, I hear sirens. Someone’s called the police. I need to get out of here before someone spots me. For a moment, I consider grabbing Diana’s gun, but it’s a mess in the car and I can’t risk leaving fingerprints all over a weapon. Besides, my laptop is far more dangerous than any gun.
Still buzzing with adrenaline and roaring for a fight, I start in the direction of the villa.
This heist has just turned into a rescue mission.