“This thing is bulletproof, fireproof, every kind of proof you can think of.” Tapping the grey frame, I glance up at her, “I’ll need to drill through the side so we can plant the explosives on the locking mechanism inside.”
She nods briskly, “Make it quick.”
My suit jacket falls to the floor.
Ripping the strips of Velcro from my legs, I lay them out on the floor. Carbide-tipped drill bits rattle around a clear case while the travel-sized drill is tucked neatly below it. Auto dialers, bypass modules, paper clips, metal lubricant and a borescope make up the rest of the pockets.
I’ve got everything except a fucking crowbar.
Grabbing the biggest screwdriver I can find, I start chipping away at the drywall surrounding the vault. It’s a slow, painful process that only gets worse with Calista breathing down my neck.
“Do you want to wait in the other room or something?”
Slamming the base of my palm into the handle, I feel the skin break as I wedge it deeper into the wall.
“You’re starting to stress me out.”
She sighs, crossing and uncrossing her arms.
“Move.”
“What-
The heel of her stiletto goes careening towards the side of my head. I duck just in time, watching her kick do a hell of a lot more damage than my screwdriver.
“That’s one way to do it.”
Brushing the debris aside, I stick my hand inside and feel along the side of the box.
“Christopher.”
“One second, darling.”
“Something’s wrong.”
“I just need to find...”
My words die off when a wire juts up beneath my fingers. I frown, tugging on the cord until it peeks its head out of the hole in the wall.
Calista sucks in a breath, her eyes glued to the hunk of plastic that’s dangling off the end of a deadly line. The blasting agent that’s linked directly to the sensor on the door.
It’s rigged to blow.
Chapter 54
CHRISTOPHER
Getting my head blown off was not how I was hoping to end the evening.
Calista and I are sitting in the Dragon’s closet, staring at the vault that’s armed with enough C-4 to make a thief think twice about stealing it.
“Do you want to try a combination?”
It’s hard not to wince at the suggestion, the taunting grin of death sitting two feet in front of us.
“She’s got it hooked to the metal frame. The moment that door opens, everything inside is going up in flames.”
And so do we.
