“It’s an old, secondary asset. One of his off-the-books residences.”
Ripley let out an appreciative whistle. “So we’re squatting him while we rob him?”
“Essentially, yeah. It’s the last place he’ll look.”
“I fucking love it.”
Colson didn’t relax until he’d checked the entire space, sweeping through the rooms with military precision. When he emerged again, his shoulders were a full inch lower. The sharper lines of his face had finally smoothed out.
“We’re good?” I asked hopefully.
He nodded, then smiled. “Good as we can be.”
I took his hand and pulled him to the window. Evening had crept in on us when we weren’t looking. Far below, the lights of the city stretched out in every direction. Like a million tiny jewels, flickering on one by one.
“Tomorrow’s a big day,” said Theo. “We need to prep. We need to go over a few things.”
“We should’ve stopped for pizza first,” Ripley lamented.
“Too risky.”
“But it’s New York pizza.”
“Still too risky.”
“New YorkCitypizza,” he reiterated, rubbing his stomach.
“Stop,” I nudged him playfully. “My stomach’s growling.”
We unpacked, which didn’t take long. On the last leg of our journey, we’d traveled light. After tomorrow, we could go anywhere. Do whatever we wanted to. But that was only if things went our way.
Because if they didn’t…
“Alright. Everyone sit down.”
Theo set his laptop down on a nearby table, and pulled up a map of the gala’s venue. He overlayed it with construction blueprints, pointing out service corridors and emergency exits and everything else we needed in case things went sideways. Colson went over synchronization timing. Ripley pointed out where Donovan’s people would mostly likely be, and how to get around them.
It was impossible to concentrate, though. Not because of the intricacies of what we were about to do, and how publicly we’d be doing it. No, my stomach was twisted in knots at a more soberingly unwelcome thought:
This might be our last night together.
