Page 131 of A Breath of Life
By the time I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, comparing the remade man with the one in the tiny driver’s license photo my wily co-worker had produced less than an hour ago, the minutes had ticked closer to midnight. Considering driver’s license images poorly depicted the true nature of one’s personality and often lent a criminal edge to someone’s appearance, we’d done well.
Joshua removed the ID from my hand and scrutinized it, then me. The poor man hadn’t calmed in the least, but after a thorough assessment, he begrudgingly agreed that I looked the part.
“Not bad. I can’t see them poking too deeply. You’re the type I usually bring. The type Ace favors. It shouldn’t ring alarm bells. Your cop friend would have been a harder sell. He’s too built and rough around the edges. I never hook up with guys like that.”
“He’d be happy to hear that.”
“I get a straight vibe from him.”
“You would be correct.”
Kitty adjusted my suspenders, so they sat straight, and fussed again with the bow tie. “Put on the hat. Let me see it all together.” She handed it to me and stepped back.
I glanced at myself in the mirror. My natural auburn hair was now dirty blond and styled so meticulously with gel that it felt abnormal. I was accustomed to a calculated, messy look that gave off a just-been-fucked vibe.
Colored contacts turned my irises into a lighter shade of gray than Diem’s, erasing their normal hazel. Although older than Kitty’s grandson-in-law by a few years, my resemblance to the man in the photograph was definitely passable. The government-issued ID was due to be renewed in the coming months, so the photo was nearly five years old. Any differences between us could easily be attributed to a dated image.
I fit the pageboy hat over my carefully sculpted hair, angling it so a shadow cast over my face. Liam, the grandson-in-law, had rounder cheekbones, freckles, and fuller lips, but Joshua and I combined our makeup skills to give me a good impression of all three.
A thoroughly displeased Joshua had been escorted home by Costa earlier so he could gather a few necessary items to support our ruse, including his father’s pass card and my new wardrobe. Kitty had done her own running around: for the ID, the hair dye, and the makeup. The colored contacts were mine and had been collected from my apartment by a disgruntled Joshua. If Ace had anyone watching my building, they wouldn’t have thought anything of Joshua entering and leaving. He passed as another tenant, provided they didn’t scrutinize him too closely.
The outfit was from Joshua’s vast collection of attire he reserved specifically for his visits to the club. Since we were close to the same size, the fit was almost perfect. Joshua explained that the clubprojected an early twentieth-century vibe. Although it wasn’t necessary to dress accordingly, it went over well with those in charge, especially Ace. Having me dressed to entice the boss would give security one more reason to show leniency at the door. Those who role-played were seen in a more positive light. Hence, the trousers, dress shirt, suspenders, bow tie, and pageboy hat.
Although the evening was warm, Joshua had also found a wool coat in his closet that fit the era and supported the outfit even more.
“You look good.” My cousin leaned against the bathroom door. “You’ve got the outfit and a means of getting inside, but now we need to discuss what’s going to happen from there.”
“What do you mean?”
I hated how he looked at me like I was an idiot. “Are you planning to single-handedly take down an entire syndicate to rescue your boyfriend? Last I checked, you didn’t have any superpowers.”
A plan. Christ, I didn’t have an official plan. This entire fucking time, I’d been ready to waltz into the building and what? Collect a hostage and leave? All I could think about was Diem tied up in a basement. Diem suffering.
“That’s what I thought.” Costa gestured into the room. “Come on. Let’s chat.”
Joshua, our reluctant accomplice, was not happy about sharing his knowledge of the inner workings of one of the Royal Ace’s sanctuaries. I couldn’t blame him. Our mission had a million ways it could backfire. It was likely the shit would hit the fan long before we succeeded. Considering who we were dealing with, failure could mean bullets to the head.
I toyed with the pageboy hat as Costa examined the official admittance card that belonged to Joshua’s father. The jack of diamonds. Its construction was similar to the ace of spades, except the designwas embossed gold on a silver background, not platinum, Joshua had clearly stated. The jack of diamonds contained no onyx gems. TheJs in the corners were created with what Joshua confirmed were diamonds.
“So far as I understand, the suits represent class. Diamonds are for businessmen. My father’s a jeweler. The jack represents his level within the club, which is quite high. A two through ten would be below him. I don’t know what clubs or hearts represent. Traditionally, throughout history, it would be peasants and clergy, but that’s not what they are for these guys. I think one is for political status. I know spades are reserved for Ace’s inner circle. The nobility of the club, if you will.
“Each card is embedded with an electronic strip that gives a person access to other parts of the building. It opens doors, but only ones you’re approved to enter. My dad has decent access, but I haven’t explored much. Unless invited to… entertain, I usually stay within the main casino area.”
Costa handed Joshua a pad of paper and a pen. “Draw me as much of a floor plan as you can while I see if I can copy the encryption off the key.”
Joshua looked both shocked and horrified. “You can do that?”
Costa grinned smugly. “I can do a lot of things. It sounds like the basic programming they use in hotels. If so, I can clone it.” He swung around to face his makeshift workspace and hauled a duffle bag of gear onto his lap. The instruments he took from within were beyond my understanding.
Joshua did as he was asked while Kitty and I watched the interior of a building come to life under his pen.
“Diem was convinced they used an elevated back exit when they took him from the building. He remembered concrete stairs outside and a wooden door. Do you know anything about that?”
Joshua puckered his lips to the side. “No. So far as I know, the back exits are at street level.”
“Oh.” Were we wrong? Could Diem be held somewhere else?
“We need to identify exits,” Costa said. “Mark them all.”
