Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“Oh, sure, on the cheap ones. Give it a shot. Smack the top and yank the handle at the same time.”
I slam the mallet on the top and jerk the handle. I can feel the mechanism inside jolting when I hit it, but that doesn’t work. “Nothing,” I say, feeling the time crunch. “I have to crack it.”
“Unscrew the keypad.”
I get to work. I have the tools with me. The front facing comes off easily enough after I use a jeweler’s screwdriver to remove the tiny bolts. Then I disconnect the wiring and look in at the bare control board.
“Hurry up,” Daron says. “I’m giving you more time, but not a lot.”
“He’s moving.” Eric’s noise breaks through our comms. It sounds like he’s out of breath. “I don’t know why, but he just suddenly leapt up and got out of there.”
“How far away are you?” I ask him.
“Ten minutes tops. But he’s hurrying.”
“Fucker knows,” I say as I start to connect the keypad bomber to the circuit board. It’s a simple black device designed to brute force the key password by trying thousands of combinations every second. “He’s coming home.”
“Get out of there,” Riley says, sounding terrified.
I input the start sequence, and the bomber gets to work. “I can do this.”
“Alexan. Please. It’s not worth it.”
“Sorry, baby.” I stare at the bomber, sweat dripping down my forehead. “Daron, how’d he find out?”
“Don’t know. Trying to figure that out right now. Fucking motherfucker.”
“He’s in the car,” Eric says. “Shit, I’m sticking close.”
“Alexan!” Riley says. “Get out of there!”
I let the bomber run. If this fails, we’re fucked. We won’t get another chance, especially if Navarro got an alert that I’m in here. Daron must’ve tripped some layer of protection we didn’t know about, and normally that’s something we’d find during the planning phase. But this was rushed, and we fucked up.
The lights keep flashing rapidly. Numbers flit across the screen like grass in the breeze. I pace across the office and look out the front windows, but it’s quiet out there. “Eric, update.”
“He’s definitely coming back. Headed your way. Eight minutes.”
“Motherfucker had a dead man’s switch on the whole network,” William says suddenly. “Daron, do you see this?”
“I see it,” Daron confirms. “The second we took it down, Navarro got an alert. He knows something’s up.”
“Time to go,” Riley presses.
“I can’t.” I turn back to the safe. “The bomber’s still working.”
“Leave the watch somewhere else,” Riley pleads. “Under his mattress. In his sock drawer. I don’t care. Just get out of there.”
“Anywhere else will look suspicious. We have to make sure Mantis buys this.”
“Alexan—” She’s pleading now. “Just come back to me.”
Riley’s voice breaks my heart, but I’m staying for her. She has to understand that. If I back out now and half-ass this job, Mantis might realize we were behind the watch theft from the start.
“I love you, you know that?” I crouch beside the safe.
Her laugh is laced with tears. “Seriously? Seriously? Right now?”
“Right now,” I say gently, gently touching the safe. The bomber keeps buzzing, sending code after code into the electronic lock pad. “I love you, Riley, and I can’t leave until this is done.”
“I love you too,” she whispers, crying softly now.
“This is touching and all,” Daron says, cutting in, “but I’m inclined to agree with your wife. Time to cut loose.”
“Give it another minute.”
“Six out,” Eric chimes in.
“I say go,” William says. “Take the chance.”
I ignore them and wait. The numbers keep turning. “Five,” Eric says. “He’s driving like a fucking maniac.”
I close my eyes. I picture Riley smiling, her hips under my fingers, her mouth on mine. I can see a fork ahead of me. A life with her on one side and a smoking crater and our corpses on the other. The choice isn’t really a choice—it’s a slow-motion travesty.
“Three minutes,” Eric says.
I open my eyes again, and the bomber beeps.
I stare, mouth hanging open. Four numbers flash on the screen. 8517.
Then the lock bangs open.
“I’m in,” I say and yank open the safe door.
It’s chaos in my earpiece. Everyone’s yelling at once, but I tune them out and concentrate. “WE’RE CLOSE,” Eric’s shouting as I rifle through the safe. Papers, a gun, passports, money. I take the watch from my bag and shove it in the back, tucked under a stack of fresh twenty-dollar bills. “He’s on the block!”
“Get out!” Riley screams.
I slam the lock shut, shove my gear back into my bag, and fumble with the facing screws. I manage to get the keypad back in place, cursing the whole time.
“He’s parking!” Eric yells in my ear. “Go, Alexan! Run!”
I lift the safe up, growling as I strain, and get it back onto the shelf. I shove it into position, carefully putting the pictures back where they belong, and drop the fake books down into their slot—