“A delivery,” he said.
“Drive and drop just have a better mouth feel to it,” I said, trying to break his straight-stone faced smile. “Go on, try it.”
He glanced to his wristwatch. “Now we’re running late.”
It was my first time breathing fresh air and feeling the morning cold on my face in—what felt like forever, and I wasn’t sure if it hadn’t actually been forever since I could see my breath and the cars in the port were all being de-iced by workers.
Our van was marked for us with a parking ticket taped under the windshield wiper. Donovan shooed me away almost as he opened it up, and I took actual freedom steps towards the food truck. There were a couple of workers around in large coats—I didn’t know if they worked for Sanctum or were just working at the port. I joined the line, looking at the posterboard menu when I realized I had no cash.
Frisking myself, I dipped a hand into my pocket, brushed past the gun and the slight adrenaline spike of feeling it thrilled me—to find a light-weight wallet in my pocket. It wasn’t mine. I opened it to see my face on someone else’s ID. Jonathan Briar. Iglanced back at the dry cleaning van and saw the name.Briar’s Dry Cleaning. I snorted back a laugh as I opened the wallet further and discovered a hundred bucks all fresh, like it was flat ironed.
“What can I getcha?” the man behind the counter of the truck asked. “I ain’t got all day.”
“Two black coffees and two breakfast sandwiches,” I said, only briefly looking at what they included, but they had breakfast in the name. I didn’t ask Donovan what he wanted, but I assumed the same as me, it was better than going back over and have him turn this into a lesson of sorts.
I grabbed sugar and little pots of creamer—in case, I was having mine black. Donovan was a different guy to the one I’d been with—or at least this version of him was. It was the Sagittarius in him, it made him unable to pin down. With breakfast, I headed back to Donovan in the van. He was sat in the driver’s seat with a black box on his lap. He’d been staring at me through the wing mirror.
“I got you breakfast,” I told him.
“Get in the van,” he said.
“Front or—”
“Obviously the front.”
I sat in the front, securing the two coffees in the center console as the bag with the wrapped breakfast sandwich warmed my lap.
From the front, there was a hatch to look into the back. There were hangers from the roof, towards us in the front there were briefcases, but from the back, it there were actual suits on hangers, obscuring the view. I was staring for too long it seemed because Donovan grabbed me by the chin and pulled my focus back to him.
“Comms,” he said, flipping the black box. “We’re going to be in communications with Jinksy while we run the job. Wecan also hear each other when we’re more than five feet away through them.”
It was excited to put one back in my ear. It felt funny because of the voices of all the people, but it meant when you were alone—you weren’t actually alone because others were there. “Hello,” I said.
Jinksy’s voice came through. “Hey, hope you’re ready. I’ll be your eye in the sky, and on the ground. I’m probably mostly on traffic watch, the I-95 might get a little congested on the drive, but don’t you guys worry, you’ll be there and back within the day.”
I looked at Donovan with a smile. “Maybe we could make it a night,” I said.
He rustled through the bag on my lap, his hand going directly to my crotch it seemed. “Or not,” he grumbled. “It’s an afternoon job at most. We’re back here before night.”
“Of course,” I said, turning my head to roll my eyes, and there he was, watching me from the other wing mirror. There was no escaping this man’s gaze. “You know, one thing that makes me feel better is that they’re not lying about the time in there. The morning really is the morning.”
“A lot of the recruited ones who are in Sanctum for a while start to think the same,” Donovan said.
“I still do,” Jinksy added to the conversation. “But then I visit security, watch some of the operational cameras, and then it kinda goes away.”
“Operational cameras?” I asked.
Donovan was mid-bite, his mouth trying to unhinge itself as he took a bite. He nodded to the rear view mirror and above it there was a dot I might never have noticed, a very slight flashing red dot appeared.
“Yes, we’re watching it all,” he said. “Especially since it’s your first job, Artemis. Mercy might also be watching too, so make an impression.”
A throat clearing crackle came through the earpiece. “Thanks, Jinksy,” Mercy’s voice. “Pretend I’m not here, not watching. Have the two of you counted the cash yet? They’re in briefcases. Six of them. Five contain five-hundred thousand, the other contains three. Make sure it’s all there before you leave. Or you’re both on the hook.” There was a pause, a murmur of laughter. “Or just you Donovan.”
After swallowing, Donovan cleared his name, telling everyone who could hear that he wasn’t going to leave without every dollar accounted for and how Mercy should know better than to think he would. I wondered if they somewhat hated each other, or whether it was all just playful. There was no clear answer.
Breakfast was delicious. I wanted to be up here every morning getting it from the truck. The coffee was a little burned, but that was also fine with a nice amount of sugar—something they’d been restricting me on down there—wherever down was.
In the back of van, it was all easily counted since everything came in stacks of twenty-five thousand. There was a nice heft to them. I felt like I was in some fancy music video where cash was about to be shot out of one of those plastic guns. The dream if you ask me. Obviously, I was professional about the entire thing. None of the cash was taken from the bundles, and I would have to live that dream another time. It took me back for a single moment to the morning when I woke up, Donovan had left with his pathetic note and about a hundred thousand in crisp notes.
