Page 30 of The Eagle's Vault

Scarlett’s smile spread slow and knowing across her face. “That’s why you’re perfect for tonight. You see things differently. You’re not just cracking a safe, you’re interpreting a piece of art. Not one as unique as what you work with, from the sounds of it, but it’s still artistry.”

The pride swelling in my chest was a surprise. To hear someone else echo my thoughts, my passions, was a validation no one had ever given me before.

“Let’s go through the plan again.” Scarlett pulled out a chair from the desk. “Start from the top, Leigh.”

“We park the van on the side street, next to Cassaforte.” I sank onto the end of the bed beside Jayce, grabbing a convenient pillow to hide what felt like the nakedness of the suit. “Then we enter through the side door of the building complex.”

“And if there’s a car parked there already?” Scarlett asked.

I swallowed, steadying my voice. “We park next to it. The van should still block off sight of us going in.”

Jayce said, “What if the door’s locked?”

“We pick it.”

“And if we can’t?” Jayce would be our third, monitoring the rest of the building while Declan and I dealt with the vault.

“We let the team know.” I took a deep breath, thinking through the steps in my mind. “They’ll contact our inside man, the security guard, who’ll open it for us.”

Each step, each contingency plan, all lined up. The test wasn’t some nebulous, insurmountable feat. It was a puzzle, and I was good at puzzles. Maybe I was more ready for this than I thought.

“From the side door, we slip into the courtyard, staying in the shadows near the base of the wall,” I continued, rehearsing the steps from the video feeds and satellite photos the Reynolds team had provided. “Once we reach the Cassaforte back door, the security guard lets us in and leads us to the vault.”

Scarlett pulled a wad of black fabric from her bag and tossed it to me. “Go on.”

I pulled the head covering over my hair and face as I spoke. The snug fit was surprisingly comforting, a fabric shield for all but my eyes and mouth. “Jayce is our lookout.”

Jayce saluted in acknowledgment, her eyes twinkling as I finally unwrapped the candy she’d given me.

The plan was etched into my mind, each step a small enough piece of the bigger plan that could be mixed and matched when things went wrong. The anxiety that had gripped me earlier was slowly being replaced with a sense of control, of preparation. I was ready for the job. And for the first time since I’d arrived in Rome, the butterflies in my stomach didn’t feel like panic or nerves. They felt like anticipation. I was ready for the night, ready for the unknown, ready for the vault and whatever it had in store for us.

“Time for me to suit up.” Jayce bounced off the bed. On her way out, she called over her shoulder, “Don’t forget your go bag.”

The butterflies switched direction, considering panic again. “Why would I need a go bag?”

“Habit.” Scarlett waved it off. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m big on risk management. Edoardo may be paying us for tonight’s job, but it’s a test for my team, too. We have a timeline we adhere to, as though we’re concerned about police. We have go bags in the van, the same as if we’re about to go on the run.”

I tugged the hood from my head and placed it carefully in my backpack next to me. “Do you have to run often?”

“Often enough.”

Recovery agents. Based on what they’d said before and what Isaac and I could find on the internet, their jobs involved a lot of coordinating with international police forces, finding and negotiating the return of stolen goods, and sometimes just escorting things around the world. “What would you have to run from?”

Scarlett gestured to the backpack, my question flying right past her. “Remember to review your tools. Know where everything is. You won’t have the luxury of rummaging when you’re inside.”

I nodded, checking the contents of my bag. Jayce had helped me place everything strategically, from the smallest lock pick to the larger, complex tools of my trade, including the mini drill, in case our tests with filing the keys or picking the locks failed.

“What’s in the bag?” Scarlett asked, her gaze never leaving my face.

“A part of the processing unit to bypass the biometrics,” I said, touching each item inside the bag as I mentioned it. “The clear box for filing my keys so we don’t leave metal shavings. The imprint dust to speed up the filing process…”

Scarlett nodded in approval as I continued. “And your key blanks?”

I pulled them from a zippered pocket on my thigh. Those, my file, one lock pick and a tensioner, stayed on my person.

She stood, smoothing out her ivory blouse. “You and Declan each have one key to file. Remember—he’ll handle the master key and you’ll do the client key. You’ve both got one backup in case something goes wrong.”

I looked up at her, uncertainty coiling in my gut. “You sure I’m ready for this?”

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