Bitter Arrangement: Chapter 23

I’m nervous and jittery as I start to climb. The branches are strong and clustered together, and I’m able to swing up without too much trouble. I have a thick, heavy-duty Kevlar blanket strapped to my back. It’s itchy but doesn’t restrict movement. Once I get to the right height, I tuck myself back against the trunk and wait.

It would be mortifying if this heist failed because I fell out of a freaking tree.

“You all good?” Alexan’s voice purrs in my ear. I’m wearing a tiny headpiece attached to a high-tech receiver attached to my belt. I’m in all black with black latex gloves, comfortable black running shoes, and a little hip pouch filled with any thieving tool I could think of.

“I’m in position,” I say back. No need to hit a button. We’re in constant communication.

“It’s ten to three right now. From what I can see, it looks quiet out there.”

I take a pair of tiny binoculars from my belt and look out across the parking lot. “Looks the same to me.” Nothing moves. Nobody on the roof, nobody in the cars. Dead silent. “How’s it going on your end?”

“No problems here. I slipped into the network a few minutes ago, and I’ll have the entire system under control shortly.”

“That’s good. Because I’m pretty sure I’m screwed if you don’t. There are a lot of cameras.”

I don’t like the smugness in his voice. “I told you, you can’t do this without me.”

“Prick,” I mutter, but he’s absolutely right.

“Just hold tight for my signal.”

We fall into silence. I hear him typing on the other end. His breathing is steady and strangely calming. I’m nervous as hell and on edge, but he doesn’t seem bothered at all. It’s like he does this sort of thing all the time.

In retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have pushed so hard.

I mean, he’s right. This plan is crazy. But I’m absolutely confident I can pull it off, even if I’m starting to have some second thoughts.

This is what happens all the time. I make an impulsive decision, stubbornly refuse to change, and regret it afterward.

I could back out. I’m sure he’d be relieved if I did. In fact, he already tried to talk me out of this a dozen times.

But I’m committed. We’re in this mess because of me. I’m going to clean up after myself, even if I do it in my own crazy way.

And besides, there’s no way I can turn back now, not when I feel so freaking alive.

For the first time since I got married, I have control over my situation. We have a plan, and it’s up to me to make it happen. Nobody else can pull this off except for me. I feel brighter, the air is sweeter, and my body is stronger than it’s ever been.

“You want to hear something?” I whisper while glancing at my watch. Two minutes.

“Tell me, baby.”

“I had this sick obsession with screwing up back when I did gymnastics.”

A short pause. “That doesn’t sound good.”

I stifle a nervous laugh. “No, I mean, the moment right after. I never tried to screw up, but you know, stuff happens.”

“What were you so obsessed about?”

“That feeling the second after you know you fucked up bad. Sometimes you’re flying in the air, mid-twist, and you’re absolutely positive you’re about to land hard and it’s going to hurt. Then you land hard, and it hurts like hell, and you have a choice. Give up, since your routine is boned anyway, or get up and finish. Every girl reacted differently in that situation, and it was so fascinating.”

“How did you react?”

“I got the fuck back up and did my thing. Here’s my secret: I fall on my face all the time, but I just keep on going.”

He grunts and stops typing. “We’re in. You ready?”

I pull the Kevlar blanket off my back. “Watch this.” Then I shuffle out along the branch, moving like I’m on a balance beam, and toss it forward.

The blanket lands right on top of the barbed wire. It bends and flexes, and the branches wobble. I have to reach up and grab another branch to keep from falling over, and still one foot slips. I curse, just catching myself, and straighten up.

“You good?” he asks.

“All good,” I say and take two quick steps forward.

The branch bends precipitously. If I planned on staying, it would absolutely dump me out. But instead, I leap forward, twisting in mid-air so I can grab onto the other side of the blanket.

It goes perfectly. Exactly what I wanted. Except I didn’t really plan for when I slammed into the fence, and it hurts like hell. My face bashes up against the top of the metal, and I curse as pain flares in my mouth. I taste blood from where I bit my tongue, and my fingers barely hold onto the chain. I stay there, clinging to the side for a beat, catching my breath.

“Graceful,” Alexan says.

“Asshole.” I slowly climb down to the other side and brush myself off. “I’d love to see you do that.”

“There’s a reason I’m on this side of the job.” His tone gets more serious. “You have ten minutes. I’m in their security system right now. All the cameras are set to show a loop of the last hour, but don’t take any risks.”

“Where are the guards?”

“One’s patrolling the halls, and the other two are in the main monitoring room.”

“Better get moving then.”

I slip on a black surgical mask before hurrying across the parking lot toward the eastern side door. My lock picks are already in my hands as I reach it. A security camera blinks at me, a red light smiling.

“Wave hello,” Alexan whispers.

I smile and wiggle my fingers. “Hello, husband.” The camera moves as if nodding. “Show-off.”

I get the door open with ease and slip into a stairwell. Fong’s office is on the second floor. I head up, going as quietly as I can, and pause on the threshold before moving into a hallway.

The place really does look like any other suburban white-collar office space. There are cubes up ahead in a big open cluster and several conference rooms on the right and the left. I spot a break room and the bathrooms past there.

“Go straight to the cubes. Stay low and reach the hall on the other side. Take that to the end. His office is in the corner.”

I follow Alexan’s instructions. As I hurry, moving quietly, I can’t help but smile to myself. “Remember the first time we met?”

“Remind me.”

“When I broke into your house. This feels a lot like that.”

“I guess it does. Want to detour into an office and get yourself off on a desk for me?”

“Probably not a good idea.”

“But tempting?”

“Keep it in your pants.” I peek at a few of the desks. Children’s photos, calendars with scribbled notes, a little bamboo plant, and other signs of life are scattered all over. It’s hard to imagine actual people clocking in here.

I reach the hall on the other side and pause, listening, but it’s quiet.

“Guard is on the first floor,” Alexan says. “You’re clear. Get going.”

I hurry forward. Most of the doors are locked, though some were left open. I spot standard office layouts: desks, cabinets, and some windows. I reach the end and pause outside of a door with its own reception desk.

The lock is too easy. It’s almost like they wanted me to get in. I slip in and close the door behind me before I stride over to the desk, my heart racing with triumph.

“I’m inside,” I say and start browsing the shelves.

Jeremy Fong is an orderly man. He’s got books on management, books on business, and more than a few on programming. There are also stranger texts: several histories on Rome and a few on the Mongol Empire. There are some personal photos showing the guy I met at dinner with a cute little wife and a couple of young kids.

“Focus. You’re looking for a computer.”

“He’s got a laptop on his desk.”

“It won’t be that one.”

“How do you know?”

“Just trust me. Check the drawers.”

I’m about to tell him off, but I decide to listen for once. I open them up, and sure enough, I find a very small laptop buried under a couple of empty folders.

“I really hate it when you’re right,” I murmur, flipping open the lid. My fingers shake as I slip the thumb drive from my pouch. “What now?”

“Stick in the drive and turn on the power. I’ll do the rest.”

I sit back in my chair and watch the screen flicker as Alexan does his job. A command promptly appears, and text scrolls across. I hear him typing furiously at the other end. More prompts come and go as he does something. I get up and go to the door, listening for the guards, nerves jangling. Alexan murmurs something, sounding frustrated.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“He’s got better defenses than I expected.”

“How much longer do you need?”

“Can’t say. Two minutes maybe.”

I check my watch. “I have five total left. That’s just enough time to get back out.”

“I can do this. Just hold on.” He’s grunting as he types even faster. I go back, and the screen’s changing wildly. “Almost there.”

Something flashes out in the hall. I sit very still, staring through the office window. It flashes again, and I realize with cold dread that it’s a light bobbing along the hall.

Like someone’s carrying it toward me.

“Alexan,” I hiss, grabbing the laptop and dropping down behind the desk. “Someone’s coming.”

There’s a pause. Then he curses. “I was focusing on breaking into the laptop.”

“How close?”

“Right down the hall. Don’t fucking move.”

I go very still. Sweat beads my back. I’m tempted to peek, but I stay where I am. His typing resumes, but slower this time.

A beam of light brushes the wall opposite me like someone’s looking in through the window.

“Alexan,” I whisper, moaning in fear. This is too close. Way too close. “He’s right there.”

“Almost in. Hold on.”

The beam doesn’t move. The guard’s not going anywhere. What the hell are you doing? Go away! But he’s still at the window, and I’m freaking out.

“Alexan,” I hiss, trembling with nerves. I’ve almost been caught before, but never with the stakes so high. “Do something.”

The knob to the office clicks like someone just opened the lock.

“Got it,” Alexan says, sounding victorious. “Fuck yes. Contents downloading.”

“He’s coming in,” I hiss under my breath as the door creaks open. I move deeper beneath the desk. I hear the guard’s footsteps as he comes into the room. I tilt the front of the laptop lid forward to keep the flickering screen from showing on the floor and try to think quiet thoughts. Rock. Mushroom. Scream. No, no scream. The void between stars. The empty moon. Running and panicking.

Oh god, he’s going to catch me, and then what?

Then I’m fucked.

The guard stops near the desk. He’s a foot away from me at most. I’m hidden underneath, but if he comes to the other side, he’ll see me. I’m lucky Fong likes big, obnoxious executive desks; otherwise, I’d already be in cuffs.

“Ten seconds,” Alexan whispers in my ear. “Just hold on. Six seconds. Five, four⁠—”

The guard sighs. “Fucking Fong. Stupid prick.” Then he turns away and heads to the door.

I nearly moan with relief. The feeling is visceral.

“Got it,” Alexan says. “Get the fuck out of there.”

I yank the USB drive from the laptop and shut the lid. I shove it back into the drawer, make sure it’s right where it should be, and sneak back to the door. All’s quiet on the other side. I grab the knob⁠—

“Wait!” Alexan says. “He’s coming⁠—”

But too late. I open the door and come face to face with a middle-aged man.

He’s tall and broad. His hair’s buzzed, and he’s got on a vaguely cop-like uniform. For a beat, he seems as surprised as I am.

“RUN,” Alexan yells in my ear.

That saves me. I react before the guard does and throw myself forward. He curses and lunges, nearly grabbing me by the hair, but he just barely misses my braids as I jolt down the hall back toward the cube farm.

“STOP,” the guard yells. He hits the wall, grunts, and pounds after me.

My heart’s screaming in fear. I’ve never run so fast in my life. My muscles feel like they’re filled with acid.

“Got an intruder on the second floor heading for the east stairwell. Mack, get your fucking ass up and run!” His voice is way too close.

Alexan’s shouting in my ear. “GO, GO, GO. Don’t you dare slow down!” The car engine turns over and roars to life. “Come on, baby, you can do this!”

I fly across the cube farm. The guard’s coming behind, and he’s gaining. The asshole’s bigger and faster than I am, and he’s going to close the gap any second.

I reach the stairwell and throw myself through the door.

And nearly fall down the steps.

I manage to grab the railing. I teeter and leap, flinging myself wildly, arms careening for balance. I let out a yelp as I land hard on the opposite steps, shoulder and face slamming into the wall. The guard is right behind me, but he’s stuck coming down the steps like a normal human, while I just bypassed half of them with one suicidal leap.

I run again, right on the edge of losing control. My fingers work at the pouch at my waist, and I find a round canister. I hit the bottom of the stairwell and turn toward the outside exit just as the first-floor landing door opens.

Another guard barrels through. He’s heavier than the first one and roars at me to halt. I whirl around and blast him with the canister, spraying mace right into his face.

He screams in shock and starts coughing. His arms windmill wildly, and he nearly hits me right in the face. My mask helps dull some of the effects, but tears stream down my cheeks as I shove the exit door open and sprint into the night.

The guards are right on my ass. I sprint faster than I’ve ever gone before, arms pumping, legs feeling like pure fire, pushing at my absolute limit. My chest burns with exertion. Every inch of my body strains. Adrenaline rips through my system, and I’m at my max effort, dragging in deep breaths, fear ringing through my skin.

If they catch me, if they get me, if they grab onto my ankles and drag me back screaming and crying⁠—

The fence looms ahead. I risk a look back. The original guard is gaining again, looking determined.

A cold horror washes over me when I look ahead again.

I’m not going to make it.

Oh fuck. Oh my god.

It’s not going to happen.

I’ll reach the fence first, but there’s no way in hell I’ll climb up and get over the Kevlar blanket before that big asshole drags me back down.

I’m trapped.

I’m totally fucked.

Mantis is going to know we tried to break in, and that’ll put all the pieces together. I’ll be dead by morning, and so will Alexan.

I killed us. My stupid, stubborn, impulsive idiocy got us killed.

I roar, throat raw, tears streaming down my face, clawing at the air, but it’s done. We’re finished. I’m fucked.

“Stop!” the guard yells.

Then a sound like splintering metal. It’s a massive crash. I don’t have time to look over, but I flinch anyway and keep flinging myself forward. Faster, faster, toward the fence, toward an impossible freedom on the other side⁠—

A car engine roars right as I slam into the chain link. I grip and look back over my shoulder.

Alexan’s car rams straight into the guard chasing after me. The man’s body ragdolls over the hood and smashes into the windshield with a sickening crack. Blood splatters as he rolls over the roof and bounces down the back, crunching onto the pavement. His limbs land at impossible angles, and he’s not moving.

I stare in stunned disbelief.

Alexan’s car spins to a sudden stop. Smoke drifts up from the wheels as he kicks open the door and gets out. “Riley!” he yells and comes toward me.

I open my mouth to say something—anything—I don’t know what—but words fail.

Because the other guard, the one with the mace-covered face, is aiming a gun at me from across the parking lot.

He squeezes off three shots. They sound like fireworks. Alexan reacts on instinct and throws himself on top of me, tackling me down to the ground. I feel something wet and warm cover my chest.

“I got you,” he snarls before pulling away. He’s up on his knees, his own gun in his hand, and he squeezes off a shot.

It hits the second guard in the skull. His head snaps backward, blood spraying out behind him.

Everything’s numb. Sickness spreads into my limbs. I want to throw up, but I can’t even bring myself to do that. Something red’s covering the front of me, and when I touch it, my fingers come away sticky.

It’s fresh blood.

“Alexan,” I say, heart hammering. I touch myself, looking for a bullet wound, but there’s no pain.

“You’re okay.” He gets to his feet slowly, hand pressed against his shoulder. Blood wells up from between his fingers.

Oh fuck. I’m not shot.

But he is.

“You’re bleeding.” I get to my feet, the dead guards forgotten.

“I’m okay, baby.” He shoves the gun away and takes my arm. “Come on, I got you. Get in the car.”

“But you’re shot. We need a doctor.”

“No time for that. I know a guy; we just need to get home. Get in, baby.”

I want to argue, but what’s the point? One guard’s lying in the middle of the parking lot, his body twisted and broken. The other’s near the back door, his skull blown to pieces.

Blood’s covering the pavement.

What a fucking mess.

“I got you,” Alexan says again, even though he’s the one that’s shot. He helps me get into the car. “Hold on. We’re going to be okay.”

I don’t know what makes me believe him. Maybe it’s his completely calm demeanor or the fact that he saved me. Whatever it is, right now, I’d do anything he told me to.

Once he’s behind the wheel, he hits the gas, and we speed away.