“Not today, Satan,” I hear Raquel grumble. Very carefully, Raquel moves to tap her earpiece.
“What are you doing?” I hiss.
“Shut up for a second. Hey, Anders! We’ve got a problem. We need another power outage. We didn’t make it to the vault in time.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I hear one of our inside men scream in her ear. “The whole security team’s on our ass right now!”
“JUST FUCKING DO IT!” she screams frantically. “NOW!”
There’s a tense beat. It lasts for an eternity. I don’t think Klaus and Anders are going to be able to pull it off.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out. If we’re going to die, I at least want her to know the truth. “I never wanted to hurt you, Raquel.”
“Not. Now.”
This is agony. Pure, unadulterated torture. I wonder if our luck has finally come to an end. Pulling this off was a longshot in the first place. Maybe our tickets are finally up.
“Raquel,” I strain. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. I love—”
The power goes out again.
Raquel slips from my grasp, falling flat onto her face with a grunt. I fall back, clutching my bad arm. Good God, today’s shaping up to be a shit day. I’m surprised when Raquel gets up and offers me a helping hand. I accept, struggling to my feet. There’s a massive red blood stain on the floor where I landed.
“Thank you,” I say, breathless.
Raquel nods, conflict behind her stormy eyes. She moves quickly. It’s now or never.
I follow her to the vault door, lingering just behind her. She begins to work on the second combination, but her hands are shaking too hard. A thick sheet of sweat coats her brow, drips down the back of her neck. Raquel’s breathing is ragged, so much adrenaline coursing through her veins that she can’t concentrate. Her breaths are tight and wheezy, her panic mounting.
Who can blame her? She just had not one, but two near death experiences in the span of thirty seconds.
“I can’t do this,” she whimpers, voice cracking. “Fuck, Gabriel, I can’t—”
Carefully, I take her hand and place it on the dial. My poor bird trembles so hard it rattles my bones. “Breathe,” I whisper calmly against her hair. “Just breathe, Raquel. I believe in you. Youcando this.”
Raquel hesitates, takes three deep gulps. She nods, mostly to herself, but maybe to me, too.
She turns the combination lock. Back and forth and back again, the clicking of the mechanism too soft and impossible for me to decipher. I can’t tell if it’s working or not, but Raquel keeps at it. This is her wheelhouse, her expertise. All I can do is trust her. I’ve seen her do this hundreds upon hundreds of times without fail.
This time will be no exception.
She finishes the second lock and then the third. For a brief moment, she pauses like she isn’t sure.
And then she unlocks the vault door.
“Thank God,” she breathes.
A laugh escapes me, made up of elation and pride and relief. “Didn’t I say you could do it?”
“Come on. We have time to celebrate later.”
I help her pull the door open just enough to give us space to slip in. I move as fast as I can considering my injury, taking in the contents of Van Straus’ vault. It’s a thief’s wet dream in here. Stacks of cash —euros, American dollars, Swiss francs, yen, pesos— bricks of gold stacked up high, priceless jewels, rare pieces of artwork, marble busts. There’s enough here for us to retire four times over.
But we’re here for one thing and one thing only —besides the bag full of cash we promised to snag for Klaus and Anders in exchange for their help. Here’s hoping they’re still alive to actually enjoy their cut.
Raquel searches high and low, pushing a long lost Da Vinci out of the way. She gasps when she finds theVase of Aphrodite, picking it up in both hands.
“It’s a lot smaller than I imagined,” she admits to me. She turns it over and inspects the base. She frowns. “There’s a seam here.”