Except they weren’t drunk and they were far more aware of their surroundings than they appeared.Hopefully not too observant, Cam prayed, as they passed a familiar red Mini and a Dodge Ram with a Boston Red Sox cap on the dash.It must have killed Nic to put it there, but it was the sign Cam needed.His team had followed the deposits, realized the schedule had been accelerated, and were in position.
Good thing too, as something felt off.The expedited schedule, the too-easy flow of funds, the tingling at the back of his skull that set his teeth to grinding and kicked his senses into overdrive.
Reaching the museum building, they darted down a side street and the staggering-friends facade fell away as they pulled ski masks down over their faces.Jared took point, Cam, Becca, and Abby the middle, and Russ, Becca’s other bruiser, brought up the rear.
Jared halted at the building corner, checking the back alley, then waved them around, their group gathering at the museum back door.“You’re up, Brady,” Jared said.
Cam pushed to the front, checking out the dual security system.Electronic keypad by the door, state-of-the-art locking mechanism on it.With Jared shining a penlight for him, Cam pushed up the sleeves of his camo jacket and went to work on the keypad first.No card to swipe or insert so he’d have to do it the old-fashioned way—pop the cover and cut the right wire before the open cover triggered a silent alarm.Wire cutters in his mouth, he used his multipurpose knife to unscrew the cover, then, with the flat end of the wrench from the lockpick set, popped the cover the rest of the way off, right into Jared’s waiting hands.Wire-work already in mind, Cam dropped the cutters out of his mouth into his gloved hand and aimed for the wire.Sniping the right wire, the blinking yellow alarm light died, and after a few crossed wires, relit green.
“That’s one layer down,” Cam said.
He dropped to a knee in front of the door lock, was about to call Jared lower with his penlight, when scratches on the lock, rough beneath his thumb, made him pause.The lock had already been tampered with.He ran his thumb over it again, but with gloves on, he couldn’t tell if the damage was fresh or if it had been there a while.He glanced down, subtly checking the ground.No metal fibers reflecting in the moonlight.
Why would the FBI need to pick the lock?If they were inside already, they wouldn’t have needed to, and if they did, they wouldn’t have made such a sloppy job of it.Neither Danny nor Aidan, who’d taught Danny to pick locks, would leave that kind of mess.Was a third party on site?Another third-party rip-off in the making?
“Problem, Hot Stuff?”Becca asked behind him.
“Nope, just getting a feel of things.”He didn’t mention the lock damage in case he needed to use it, or what it might mean, to his advantage.
Inserting the wrench, he tested left and right for tension—right—then withdrew the other two lockpick tools.He swept the rake across the inner pins and found the binding pin.He traded rake for pick, set the binding pin, then reinserted the rake, ticking off the other pins in the order he’d earlier assessed.On the third pass of the rake, the lock disengaged and he nudged the wrench right.
The door opened.
Grinning, he stood and tucked his tools back in their pouch.“And that’s what you pay me the big bucks for.”
Jared entered first, gun drawn.Becca pushed Abby over the threshold next, then waited for Cam to step forward.“Don’t get cocky.”She palmed him through his jeans.“Yet.”She followed Abby inside, and Russ waved him on through, pulling the door shut behind them.
They crept along the inside of the outer wall, avoiding the infrared security around each exhibit block in the open space.Cam watched for any sign of movement, feds or otherwise, as he asked Becca the question that had been nagging him since she’d laid out their plan for this heist.“You mentioned earlier that the vault is like a Russian nesting doll.Multiple layers.The dual system on the exterior entry.The vault door.Then, inside the vault, the voice-activated safe.”
“That’s right.”
“For the last, you need two voices.Abby’s got the wife’s.What about the husband’s?Who’s going to mimic his voice?”There was no way he could pull off a Serbian accent, and he’d be shocked as shit if Jared or Russ were hiding that in their bag of thug tricks.
Becca shot him a sly grin.“Don’t you worry about that,” she said as they approached the in-wall vault door.“You worry about this instead.”
Cam continued to work over her answer as he worked over the vault door—first, hacking the electronic lock, then pulling the tools he needed out of his bag and getting back on the bike for the physical bolt.Same as last night, a thrill ran up his spine, a rush of adrenaline pumping blood and excitement through his veins.He came up on his line in the sand fast and slammed his eyes shut, bringing to mind the smiles and voices of his older, wiser brother, his nieces and nephews, his friends who’d become his family here.The library card in his pocket.The ball cap on the Dodge’s dash, the taste of his new favorite stout, magnificent ink over hard muscle and pale skin.
Nic.His here and now.
Using the thrill—not letting it use him—Cam channeled the energy into his hands cracking the safe and into Agent Byrne hovering just beneath Brady Campbell’s skin.
After another minute’s steady work, the lock on the vault door disengaged.He stepped back, pulling the reinforced steel door open for Becca and Abby.“I believe you’re up now.”
“You remember the script, baby,” Becca said to Abby.
She nodded, and they approached the voice-activated safe together, Becca texting someone on her phone.It vibrated in her hand a moment later.Becca brought it to her ear.“We’re ready,” she said as she entered an unlock code to start the process.It signaled for the voice-activated commands, and Abby spoke first in a dialect unlike anything Cam had ever heard.
One light turned green.
Becca hit speakerphone and the next instant, a man’s voice filled the room in what Cam vaguely did recognize as Serbian.Spoken clearly, assertively, like someone well-educated and powerful, and somehow also familiar, even though Cam didn’t understand the words.
The second light turned green.
Who had called Becca?From where Cam stood, he couldn’t see her phone screen, but he’d bet it was a random number.He’d also bet his team was right.A native Serb, or someone who’d spent enough time there to speak like a native, was bankrolling this venture.
And Cam had a pretty good idea who that person was now.
The bright glare from Jared’s penlight shining on glittering objects drew Cam’s attention back to where they were pulling a shelf from the safe.
