Page 33 of The Eagle's Vault

We stepped over the steel plate into the vault and pulled out our first tools—working lights to place on the floor and illuminate our workspace.

“Safe deposit box 2460,” said Rav.

A number I’d never forget—the first four digits in Jean Valjean’s prisoner number inLes Misérables. “Ever had a penetration test where the owner booby-trapped whatever you were testing?”

Declan pulled out a tray from the wall, a sturdy platform normally used for the safe deposit boxes. Our filing boxes landed on it with a soft clink. They were simple rectangular containers made of clear, thick plastic, with enough space for a key and two pairs of hands, designed to contain all the residue from our filing.

“The chihuahua story Jayce and I were telling you earlier.” Declan bit back a chuckle.

“Is that where the explosives come in?” I asked.

Jayce’s laughter burst through the earpiece. “Oh, that was a wild night!”

“The Spanish footballer, right?” Will added.

“Focus,” Scarlett cut in, a sharp reminder of the gravity of our task.

“Race you,” Declan said, an easy grin lighting up his face as we prepared our tools.

“It’s about getting it right, not just right now.” I already had my files inside the box.

Rav practically grumbled, “Both would be preferable.”

My nerves had settled, hands steady, unlike the trembling mess back at the hotel. The shakes when we were outside the vault must have been excitement.

We pulled out our blank chain keys, dusted them with imprint dust, and inserted them into the two locks on Edoardo’s safe deposit box. My mind spun, thinking of my best time picking the chain lock—after practicing more, I was down to seven minutes. Declan’s best time was eight.

I focused on the feel of the lock, the resistance as the blank touched the pins, creating a guide for my work. “Our best filing time was five minutes.”

“Aiming for four tonight,” Declan shot back.

“I’ll do three.” I nudged him with my hip, theYou’re a pretty facewoman coming out for a moment.

Declan grinned. “Keep that up and you won’t stand a chance.”

I withdrew the key blank, slipped it into the filing box, pushed out the chain, and inspected the marks the pins had left. Unlike filing a standard key, I had to brace the chain so it didn’t flop all over the place as I filed. Declan followed suit on his side.

We repeated the act over and over. Insert, wiggle, file.

There was no way I was doing three minutes. I should have set a timer on the phone.

“No sign of anyone else lurking in here,” said Jayce. “Buddy’s hanging out in the interview room. Does he have a security display in there or something?”

Insert, wiggle, file.

“Nothing in there,” said Brie, the sound of her keyboard clacking in the background. “Maybe Edoardo told him to stay out of the way.”

Jayce hummed aloud. “Or he’s pretending he got tied up as part of the playact.”

Insert, wiggle, click. “Booyah!”

My key turned smoothly in the lock before Declan’s and a surge of pride swept over me. “Beat you. How long was that?”

“Three minutes, forty-seven seconds,” said Brie.

Declan’s reaction was difficult to gauge. Something flickered behind his eyes before he resumed his filing and said, sounding overly professional, “Congratulations.”

The playful demeanor he had at the start of our ‘race’ disappeared, leaving me unsettled. This was like me and Isaac. I’d best him and he’d make me feel guilty for doing so.

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