Page 31 of Never Enough

TB nodded.

Nemo tossed the toy over his shoulder to Midas, then continued to eat while he turned his attention back to Haskell on the monitor.

Waters sauntered into the office and snatched a chip out of Nemo’s bag. “Thanks.” He turned to Midas. “Any luck?”

Midas grumbled, “Not since the last time you asked me ten minutes ago.”

Waters raised his eyebrows at Midas.

Midas sighed. “I’ve found plenty on our little cat burglar. As far as her heists? Since she’s never been caught, the information is either news articles about what she stole, police reports on how she was able to break in and take what she stole, or sensationalist pieces with some of the craziest theories about her identity that I’ve ever seen. That Saturn Diamond job was a piece of artwork, let me tell you.

“As for the never-ending search on this Salieri shit we’ve been on for months? A big fat void, other than what we already knew, that is.”

“Looks to me like we’d get better intelligence on all of that through Nemo. I mean, Sawyer,” Waters quipped, snatching the entire bag of chips out of Nemo’s hands.

Nemo slapped his hand. “Get your own.”

Waters smirked. “Yours are here, though.”

“You mean mine,” Midas grouched.

“Right. Yours,” Waters corrected.

Nemo leaned back on the desk to reach into the shipping container for a new bag, which he promptly opened.

Midas let loose an exhaled nonverbal sound of frustration and went back to banging on the keyboard.

Waters looked back at Nemo. “Kitty cat, right? Isn’t that what you called her?”

Nemo’s eyes never left the monitor. He continued the pattern of reaching into the bag, pulling out a chip, and putting it in his mouth, crunching away. Easiest way to avoid having to answer his team leader.

“Whose kitty?” Steel asked, popping his head into the room around the doorjamb, snatching the bag of NikNaks out of Waters’ hands, taking a handful, and then passing the bag to TB.

“Nemo’s, I think,” Waters answered. “He’s riveted.”

“Fuck off,” Nemo warned around a mouthful of chips. His attention never wavered from Haskell.

Demon was the next to slide into the room. Seeing the bag of chips, he scowled. “Those things are shit for you.” The war within him lasted all of two seconds before he snatched the bag from TB and started eating out of it.

All six of the team were gathered around the main telescreen. They formed a half circle—TB, Waters, Demon, Steel, and finally Nemo, still seated on the desk, Midas behind it,watching Haskell sit in the interrogation room. The only sounds were typing and crunching.

Tired of leaning across people, Waters reached over Midas’ desk, grabbed another bag, opened it, and Midas roared in frustration this time. “Keep out of my chips!”

Steel rolled his eyes. “Dude, we know you have at least five more shipping containers stashed somewhere. You can spare two bags.”

“If it were only two bags, yes, but you all sniff them out and then keep eating them. I’m running out of places to hide things.”

“Finding shit is kind of what we do, Midas,” Demon reminded him.

“Don’t you have a handler to go and handle?” Midas jabbed in return.

Demon glared at him, then reached and got his own bag of chips in retaliation.

When Waters’ bag was finally empty, he shook all the crumbs into a corner, then dumped the remainder into his mouth before crumpling up the bag and throwing it in the trash.

TB watched in astonishment. “Jesus Christ. You and Kubrick really are melding into the same person.”

“Jealous bastard,” Waters teased.

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