I’ll be back by tonight,he told himself.Back in the land of yellow cabs, the Statue of Liberty, and drunken 4am stops at the kabob shop.
He was nearly giddy with excitement at the thought of it. And at the thought of the look on his nanna’s face when he told her he’d paid off her mortgage.
And yes. He wasn’t an idiot. It was weird Yang was talking about him opening an offshore account.
If what he was doing was federally mandated, why wasn’t he simply going to be paid the regular way? With a check after all the appropriate taxes had been taken out?
I mean, it’s thegovernment. They always want their pound of flesh.
Then again, maybe this was how it worked when it came to wearing the cloak of International Men of Mystery. Maybe that’s why, when the IRS audited the Pentagon, they couldn’t account for 220 billion dollars. Maybe that was because the spooks used that money to clandestinely pay off their assets.
“Okay.” He pushed up from the desk so he could pace. He needed an outlet for the adrenaline/caffeine high. “I’ll sneak into the control room during the shift change. The engineers always gather around the coffee station to gossip and fill each other in on the plant’s status. I’ll pretend to go around emptying trash cans and mopping the aisles and use their distraction to plant the malware.”
“Very good.” For the first time ever, Vinny thought he heard a note of excitement in Yang’s voice. “Thank you, Vinny. We could not have done this without you.”
Stopping his pacing, Vinny frowned at the phone lying face-up on the desk.
Why did that sound like a goodbye?
“Aw, don’t act like we won’t talk again. You still need to call for that account number, right?”
His momentary paranoia disappeared when Yang’s answer was prompt. “Of course. Good luck this morning.”
“No luck needed, baby,” he boasted, once more imagining how his life would change in the weeks and months to come. “It’s all skill.”
Yang made a noncommittal sound and then the line went dead, leaving him to fish his suitcase out from beneath the bed.
There was a skip in his step as he packed his clothes. Just as soon as he uploaded that malware, he planned to bid an immediate and not-so-fond farewell to Texas.
New York City, here I come!
24
Somewhere over Missouri, 40,000 feet up
Flying on private jets came with a few perks.
One, no security lines or need to check luggage through metal detectors. Two, a more direct route to their destination because they didn’t have to follow the flight paths dictated to the commercial boys. Three—and probably the most underrated of all the benefits—private aircraft flew higher than their public counterparts, which allowed their occupants the rare wonder of enjoying clear, cloudless, awe-inspiring skies.
Truly, Sam had seen some beautiful shit in his life. He’d watched the sun rise over the “Rainbow Mountains” in China. The flowing red, yellow, and blue stripes of the craggy crests were the result of sedimentary materials laying down over time. But the effect didn’t look scientific. It looked magical. And when those peaks were hit by the first rays of light? The colors were so bright they were almost blinding.
He’d hiked the ten miles to Havasu Falls near Grand Canyon National Park so he could swim in the beautiful blue waters that spewed from the orange rocks. And as he’d floated on his back in the pool at the bottom of the falls, he’d watched the moon slide over the sun. A total solar eclipse that’d turned the sandstone to blood-orange and the waters cerulean.
In the Land of the Midnight Sun, deep inside the Abisko National Park, he’d lain on his back in his sleeping bag while reindeer foraged around him and the swirling green, purples, and pinks of the northern lights danced and undulated above.
But this night sky out the windows of the tiny jet? So moonless and black and glittering with the diamond brightness of thousands of distant stars? Well, it ranked high on his list of natural wonders.
He amended his thoughts when his eyes drifted over to his seatmate.
But not as high as Hannah.
Becky had lent her a plain black dress, which Hannah had belted at her waist. It allowed the skirt to hang loose and flutter prettily around her calves. The shoes she’d borrowed had low heels and straps across the top of her feet that accentuated the delicate turn of her ankles. And she’d twisted her purple hair into a messy bun, eschewing her usual heavy-handed cat-eye makeup and ruby-red lip for a swipe of Eliza’s mascara and a dollop of lip gloss.
She looked very put-together and professional. But if he was being honest, he preferred her hipster/punk rock style to this pretty, toned-down version. The tattered jeans and ratty Vans suited her. And he couldn’t wait to put all this behind them so he could take her home and watch her transform herself back into the Hannah he’d been dreaming of for the past six months.
Speaking of my dreams…
They hadn’t done the reality of the woman justice. She was far sexier, farlustierthan even his wildest fantasies. And as she slept with her head rested against the side of the fuselage, he drank in her pretty profile.
