Page 6 of The San Marco Heist

Silence in my ear. That was never a good sign. They were consulting, deciding what to do. There were contingencies to be determined, which could include cutting me off.

Had Emmett traded counting cards in Vegas for bigger jobs? And who was the mystery woman with him?

“Malcolm.” The voice had changed to a distorted one with a different accent. “Switch to the abort plan. Dispose of your comms and the container. We won’t be needing your services anymore.”

“Roger that.” I ripped the receiver out of my ear before they could hear the stutter in my breath. Not needing my services could mean no more jobs from that team or being eliminated. I was good at what I did, so I’d find another job if I wanted one. That would have been the plan if we’d succeeded tonight, anyway.

I retrieved some tissues and wiped away the blood, sure to dispose of them down the toilet. Sure to take a few deep breaths before sneaking out of the bathroom and making my way through the celebratory crowd. This night could have gone worse; I could have been caught.

But I was leaving empty-handed, and that was almost as bad.

Maybe I’d track Emmett down and convince him to split the prize money for snatching the Codex. He owed me.

Unfortunately, I still owed him more.

Chapter 3

Scarlett

Ourjettoucheddownat four in the morning, at a quiet airstrip an hour southwest of Halifax. Everyone had snagged at least a one-hour nap in the air, except for Rav, who only slept if the op stretched to three days. He didn’t trust our safety to anyone else, and I wouldn’t have trusted anyone but him to watch over us. Sure, he closed his eyes to let them rest, but his brain was still on, and no one ever snuck up on him.

An hour later, we stepped through the front door into the office, a buzz of excitement in the air. A skeleton staff was on-hand, doling out coffee as we entered.

A thin woman with thick, dark glasses and equally thick, dark hair pulled into a ponytail greeted me with a hug. “Manuscript?”

“Thanks, Brie.” I handed her the case with a yawn. “How’s the boss doing?”

Gabrielle was a touch shorter than me, a few years younger at twenty-nine, and dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, as always. Today’s shirt sported an engineering joke which went far over my head. My baby sister and I had little in common other than our job and genetics, and some days I doubted the latter.

She exaggerated peering over her shoulder toward the glass-walled conference room with an impish smile that made me chuckle. “She’s totally wired. I saw two espressos, which means she’s had at least four. Hell, she picked me up two hours ago to get the scanner ready for this thing.”

“I thought it only took—”

“Exactly.” She rolled her eyes and strode toward the conference room with me behind Rav and Jayce. “I’ll have it fired up in five minutes and we’ll get a better look at this puppy.”

“See you in a few.” I gave a small wave as she veered off to the staircase leading to her lab upstairs.

Evelyn, the boss, stood holding the door open.

“Good morning, darling.” She kissed me on the cheek and ushered me in, doing the same to Emmett, just behind me.

Her accent—slightly British, despite not being from England—was thicker than usual, the only clue she was as on-edge as Brie had indicated. Normally, she cultivated a local accent, no matter where we were, to keep her profile low.

But there was little low-profile about the sixty-seven-year-old stunner. She was an elegant woman with platinum-blond hair styled in a wavy bob and green eyes that scrutinized every detail around her. I’d grown up wishing I had her hair and eyes, but Em, Brie, and I had inherited Dad’s brown everything.

I set my mug down and plucked a lemon Danish off the spread at the center of the large black table. It was good to be home.

“Excellent work, everyone.” Evelyn closed the door and sat with the team. “I’ve reviewed the recordings and want to highlight a few places we can improve.”

She tapped a tablet in front of her, and the glass walls frosted over at the same time a big screen at the end of the room came on.

We discussed the drone surveillance, watched our entrance, and Jayce’s rappel from the roof. We listened to snippets of the conversation I had with Slobbery-Mouth and had another laugh over the passcode.

Brie snuck in and took the seat next to me as the screen flipped to my exit with Emmett. “I still haven’t found anything about the guy Jayce knocked out. He was on three security feeds we tapped into, but he must have known where the cameras were, because he faced away from them every time.”

I hummed aloud. “It wasn’t Thomas Maguire. He would have been downstairs with his father and the cake.”

Rav pulled the tray of breakfast sweets closer to him and Jayce. “Possibly related to the gunman who was after Zac last weekend.”

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