Taking inventory in the trailer gave me a good reminder of what the first phase of our plan was. Sam’s printing equipment was in the left corner, held in place by precisely-measured loops of chain that attached to a row of holes in the wall. Mae’s desk was chained to the right corner, a wooden shutter concealing all of the tech she was planning to use to clone the “key” part of the keycard. The “card” part would be Sam’s job.

Also chained to the walls of the trailer were four chairs, two to each wall, facing inward. A small suitcase was already stowed under one of the chairs on the left. Affixed to the back wall, without chains, was a low-intensity white strip light, by which I was making my observations.

I put my cell phone in my pocket, walked through the mostly empty middle of the trailer, passed the growing pile of assorted furniture that Caleb was stacking at the front, and hopped down into the alley.

“There you are,” Scott hailed. He was sitting on a disconcertingly large hard case.

“What did dealer’s choice put me on the hook for?” I asked.

Scott stood, turned around, and opened the case. Mae and Caleb approached to join me in watching him reveal and explain the contents.

“Fireworks first,” Scott said. He pulled a thick wire, about three feet long, from the case.

“An extension cord?” Mae asked.

“Disguised detcord,” Scott clarified. “If you plug this into a wall, your hand’s gone. You can’t plug anything into either of these outlets, because this box on the end is just full of Semtex.”

“I distinctly remember saying no bombs,” I complained. “What the fuck, Scott?”

“Hey, you don’t have to use it. Mae wanted something that blew up, so I brought this. It’s safe to transport. Just don’t forget what it is. If you decide to set it off, use a real extension cord as a fuse, and plug that into something to blow the charge from a safe distance.”

“How long is a safe distance?” Caleb asked.

“Preferably behind a corner,” Scott said, reaching back into the case. “Here’s the other disguised weapon.”

Scott held up a metal water bottle, matte green with a spout in the lid.

“Looks and sounds normal,” Scott explained, shaking it to prove his point. “Nobody should think twice about it with the cap on. This thing’s not super reliable, aim-wise. It’s not quick to deploy. I don’t recommend it for self-defense.”

“Self-defense is what I specifically requested,” I pointed out.

“You’re also a burglar, Lucas. I think causing a panic benefits you, right? A few shots will probably do that.”

I rolled my eyes. “So, that’s a gun?”

“A nine-chambered revolver, to be more specific. Ghost, obviously. I made it a while back as an art project. It’s a bitch to reload, so don’t lose count of your spent rounds.”

Scott flipped the cap and turned the bottle over. No water poured onto the ground. He put his index finger through a loop of thread attached to the bottom of the bottle and pulled back slightly. A thin metal rod emerged from the base of the device.

“Ever play pinball?” Scott asked.

He let go, and the rod snapped back into the bottle. Caleb flinched at the slight noise of the action.

“Safety,” Scott said, pointing out a sliding switch next to the loop of thread. “This thing doesn’t have a trigger. It’s just a spring-loaded firing pin. If you disengage the safety without pulling the pin back, there’s a slight chance it’s gonna fire.”

“Pretty much everything you’ve said about this thing is a drawback,” I pointed out.

“It’s covert more than anything else. Look, you can even drink from it.” He flipped the bottle back upright and twisted the lid 180 degrees.

“Wouldn’t doing that point the barrel directly at your face?” Mae asked.

“Technically, yes,” Scott confirmed. “I wouldn’t drink after shooting, either, unless you like the taste of soot.”

Mae glared at him. “Did you use arcade revenue to develop this piece of crap?”

“I dunno. Maybe. It’s not like I track the serial numbers on the cash I spend.”

“Amusing as the water gun is,” I cautioned, “please fund your ‘art projects’ from your paychecks, not as business expenses.”

“Duly noted,” Scott said. “But given that it’s company property, are you gonna bring it or not?”

“It seems more fit for an assassination than a heist,” I said. “But… fuck it, why not?”

Scott leaned and peered over my shoulder. I wheeled around to see a figure — dark hoodie despite the weather, black balaclava, sunglasses….

“Maye,” Ranger called out.

I heard a “Huh?” from Mae.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked.

“Supervising,” Ranger said, continuing to walk down the alley. “Davor Kolyich heard you were shipping out today. He’s sending me with you.”

“He could’ve told me that,” I sighed.

“Looks like quite the operation,” Ranger observed, glancing around the area. The door to Caleb’s store was still propped open so that furniture could be loaded into the trailer once the rest of us were ready to go. Lengths of spare chain were piled on the ground across the street from the hard case, and people had set other luggage down. All that in mind, I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

“You know this is a multi-day trip, right?” I asked.

“Fine,” Ranger said flatly.

I gestured over him. “This is all you’re bringing?”

Ranger pulled a wallet from one of his coat pockets, and a snub-nosed pistol from the other.

“Right,” I said. “Suit yourself.”

“Sorry, who is this?” Scott asked.

“My contact for our client. Everyone, this is Ranger. Ranger, this is Scott, Mae, and Caleb. Gear, tech, transportation, respectively. En route are Samuel, for forgery, and Mister Spot.”

“The perception manipulator,” Ranger recalled.

“And what do you do?” Scott asked.

“Keep Boggart in line,” Ranger said. “This mark has a high price tag. Davor Kolyich wants his money’s worth.”

“Considering we get paid after the heist, he didn’t need to send you for that,” I countered.

“You did get a signing bonus,” he said.

“That wasn’t really what I was asking, by the way,” Scott chimed in again.

“It’s what I’m answering,” Ranger shot back. “Continue your preparations, people.”

Scott sighed, then dug through the hard case again.

“Caleb, you wanted major firepower?” he asked.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I was half-joking the other day, really, so if you brought anything based on that-“

“It’s not an anti-tank rifle. Not on one-day notice.”

“The fucking spy gadgets were on one-day notice?” I indicated the extension cord and the water bottle sitting beside the case.

“That’s stuff I put together for fun,” Scott offered by way of defense. “I can’t always get rid of those projects easily. The military-grade shit, though, I don’t keep on hand. Not without a deal lined up.”

I waved dismissively.

“460 XVR,” Scott continued, lofting a revolver that was easily twice as long from hammer to muzzle as the grip was from top to bottom. “Five shots. Whatever you point this at is getting destroyed. Bit of a kick.”

“Last resort,” I stressed.

Caleb weighed the gun in his hand. He glanced from Scott to me. “Do I get to keep this?”

“Why would you want to?” I asked.

“Truck stops get robbed from time to time,” Caleb answered. “This is a pretty nice deterrent.”

I turned to Scott. “How much is that thing worth?”

“If you’re asking,” Scott said, “you’re going to want to tell him no.”

“Aw, that’s a damn shame,” Caleb said. “Oh well.”

“The less flashy guns are right here, so don’t worry about anybody being left out. Also in the case, there’s a couple spools of paracord, a first aid kit, and Lucas, I got your kit from storage,” Scott listed.

I nodded. “Right. Thank you.”

“What kit?” Ranger asked.

“Pack of tools,” Scott said. “Lock picks, flashlights, that sort of thing. Dog treats, I think.”

Ranger cocked his head like that was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard.

“Pack it back up,” I said, eyeing the items that had been removed from the case. “We’ll chain this case up in the trailer, and then wait for the others to show up.”

“Can I be in charge of the water bottle?” Mae asked.

“You’re not in charge of any of the weapons,” I said. “You’re in charge of communications, remember?”

Mae pouted, but turned and climbed into the trailer. When she returned, she had a box with a long antenna in one hand and a Bluetooth earpiece in the other.

“So, I set up a bunch of these,” she informed the team. “It was one set per person and a spare in case one broke, but if Ranger is coming then I guess we don’t have the spare. The earpiece isn’t anything special, but this is pretty fun. I still had all those Pi boards sitting around, so when you asked if I could get a comms channel set up for the team, I went shopping and spent the afternoon building these things.”

I took and inspected the box. On the back was a belt clip that would leave the antenna pointing up. On the top was the base of the antenna, an on-off switch, a button, and two small lights. I could feel a gap along the bottom that was probably for a charging cable.

“It was actually a pretty cool project,” Mae rambled. “Once I got the hardware set up, I programmed the computers to broadcast and receive FM radio on a specific channel. But since anyone can do that, I didn’t want to chance it, right? So before it transmits, the computer runs the signal through a layer of encryption, and since I have to physically hand out the computers, the key itself is only ever stored on the device.”

“Mae,” I interrupted. “I have no idea what any of that means. Tell me how to use it.”

She glared at me. “…Fine. That thing you’re holding is called a computer, which means it uses lightning to do math. The switch turns on the lightning.”

“Knock it off,” I said.

“Green light means it’s on, blue light means it’s connected to a Bluetooth device. I already paired everything, so they should remember what’s what. After you turn it on, you have to push the button to turn on Bluetooth. When it connects, it should play a tone through the earpiece. Three seconds later, it will automatically run the encrypted radio program. If the light turns blue and you don’t hear the tone, turn the computer off immediately, because that probably means it connected to something it wasn’t supposed to, and that would compromise our network.”

“Okay, got it.” I handed the device back to her.

“I think they’re concealable enough? The antenna is important for using radio frequencies at any reasonable distance, and I wanted these to work without an internet connection, but you can totally hide it under your shirt, as long as you keep your posture right.”

“You realize you’re going to have to explain this all again when the others get here, right?” Scott asked.

Mae’s shoulders slumped, and she started fiddling with the computer box silently.

I checked the time on my phone. 10:39.

♜

1:24. I put my phone away.

Those of us who had been here all day had prepped everything we could, then we’d taken a break for lunch, which Sam brought for the group. The last member of our party arriving was our cue to pack up the last of what we needed and finally get on the road.

“Alright, you bastard,” Olivia greeted me. “Are you happy that you pulled me back into all this?”

“One job,” I reminded her, “which I can’t do without you. After that, we’ve got enough cash to quit crime entirely.”

“No way in hell are you doing that,” Liv pointed out.

“Oh, absolutely not,” I agreed. “I’m not quitting crime. But you can do whatever the fuck you want.”

“Is that language really necessary?” Sam asked from the seat he’d already taken in the trailer.

“If you’re too polite with Lucas it goes to his head,” Liv stated.

“And you’re the expert on what goes to my head, are you?”

“If that was supposed to be an innuendo, it doesn’t even work.”

“Liv,” I chided. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“I’ll leave you in a fucking gutter one of these days.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I can see that happening. Caleb, go get Mae, will you?”

“We’re leaving?” Caleb asked, pushing off the wall he’d been leaning against.

“As soon as we can,” I said.

“Who the fuck is this guy?” Liv asked, pointing at Ranger.

“For all intents and purposes,” Ranger answered, “your employer.”

“Ah. Davor Kolyich’s hench-hoodie,” Liv concluded.

“I take it you’re Mister Spot,” Ranger matched her reverse-introduction.

“I don’t like the way you said that,” I mumbled.

“It’s a goofy name for a fake supervillain,” Liv deflected. “You should give it a New York mobster spin when you say it.”

“Eyy, it’s Mistah Spaaht,” I said.

“On second thought, don’t do that.”

“Ahh’ll fuhgeddaboudit.”

“Fuck. Off.”

“I just can’t win with this woman,” I said, pointing to Liv and shaking my head at Ranger.

“Keep your merry band of dumbasses in check, Maye,” Ranger instructed.

I frowned. “Right. Sure.”

“Don’t agree to that!” Liv protested.

“Hello, meet our fucking paycheck,” I told her, gesturing back to Ranger.

She grumbled incomprehensibly and made her way to the back of the trailer to hop in, just as Caleb and Mae returned.

“That didn’t take long,” I said.

“She was just in the bar,” Caleb reported.

“Aren’t you twenty, Mae?” I asked.

“Aren’t you a crime lord?” she countered.

Ranger sighed.

“Okay, how are we doing this?” I wondered aloud. “I don’t want to box Ranger and you lot up without me there to supervise, which pulls me out of shotgun in the truck itself. Caleb’s driving, obviously, but who do I send up there with him?”

“Why do we need to send anyone up there?” Caleb asked. “Isn’t it more stealthy to keep you all in the back?”

“You would think so, yes,” I agreed, “but someone decided to show up on short notice, and now the trailer is one seat short for that idea.”

“Why didn’t you add a chair while we were waiting for Spot?” Ranger asks.

“Because I want it to be exceptionally clear that you are getting in the way,” I told him. “And for obvious reasons, you don’t get to call the passenger seat.”

“This is obvious in what way, exactly?”

“I just mentioned I’m not leaving you and my employees unsupervised. Who knows what you’d do to poor Caleb?”

“Um,” Caleb contributed.

“I’ll go up front,” Liv offered.

“No, we need you next to the false wall in the trailer,” I reminded her.

“Sam is already sitting down, so by process of elimination,” Mae said, leaving the sentence hanging there.

“Act like a normal person, please,” I said.

“Yes!” Mae pumped her fists and bolted to the front of the vehicle.

“Wait, now she can’t use the drive to explain her radio gadgets,” I said.

“We’re all going to fucking die,” Liv complained, choosing a seat in the far end of the trailer. Her voiced echoed past the carefully arranged furniture that would be distributed to Caleb’s actual customers on the way to Santa Clara.

“Your crew seem confident,” Ranger said, deadpan.

“That’s just banter,” I said, brusque. “She could foretell the downfall of my criminal empire on our way to a supermarket.”

“How often does she make these sorts of predictions?” he asked, climbing into the trailer and navigating the maze of furniture.

“Whenever Lucas does anything stupid!” Liv shouted.

“You think everything I do is stupid,” I called back, following Ranger once he’d cleared the ledge I needed to climb.

“As glad as I am to have you back,” Sam said, “this is not the part of the job that I missed.”

“You missed me?” I asked. “That’s so sweet.”

When I reached the edge of the winding pathway we’d left as we loaded the trailer, I grabbed ahold of the cord hanging from the ceiling and pulled the garage-door-style false wall down behind me, sealing the four of us in a small room with the heist headquarters set up and chained in place.

“Olivia, if you’ll do the honors.” I gestured to the wall.

Liv placed her hand on the wall, and her power snapped into place as a feeling more than anything visual. If not for the cord laying on the floor on our side of the wall, I’d be at a loss for how to get out of here. The operation mechanism for the door fled my mind until I backtracked from the existence of that cord and reminded myself of what I’d just done.

“Oh, fuck that,” Ranger said. “Really don’t like that.”

“You get used to it,” Sam declared.

“I’m embarrassed that any of you are used to it,” Liv said. “Shows how much I’ve had to bail you guys out.”

“Hey, get comfortable,” I warned them. “This is going to be a long ride.”

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