Page 61 of Mile High Heist

“I guess you’ll never find out,” Julie said.

And then she attacked.

I anticipated her strike, catching her fist before it clocked my chin. She was quick, her other fist aiming lower, beneath my rib cage. One solid blow to the liver could rupture the organ. Her strength was impressive, though not surprising. She was a trained killer. But I was born one.

I dodged her next hit and used her trapped fist to twist her around, slamming her face-first against the metal servers.

Something beeped.

We both paused.

Then her head snapped back, and copper flooded my mouth. Finally.

Using the brief advantage, she spun and kneed me in the gut. The air punched from my lungs. What little remained came out in the form of a dark chuckle.

She stared at me incredulously as blood dripped down her brow. “You’re a seriously unhinged dude,” she said, panting slightly. “At least you’re a challenge.”

My lips parted, revealing a bloody grin. “I haven’t started yet.”

For the next sixty seconds, we danced.

She snapped my little finger, so I broke her wrist. I threw her against the servers, metal against bone that turned her pale. She launched at me again, a quick flurry of blows that reeked of desperation.

That was my opening.

So focused on lashing out, she forgot to guard her softest spot. I feinted low, and she moved as I expected, leaving her temple exposed.

My elbow found it.

She crumpled.

Everyone had a weakness. You just had to be patient enough to find it.

I was very good at being patient.

Julie remained dazed, clutching her head. I stared down at her as I corrected my broken finger. The roaring engine drowned out the crack of bone and cartilage. The plane jerked and throttled, fighting the turbulence.

“Poor little dove,” I said, crouching down. “Have we already lost our wings?”

“Fuck you,” she spat.

My hand gripped her ankle, finding the delicate knob of bone. “Where is the watch?”

She laughed, a high reedy sound. “I’ll never tell you.”

“Pity.” I pressed down on her ankle, causing her to stiffen and hiss. “I will break every bone in your body. I will make it hurt. Chirp chirp, little dove.”

“It’s gone!” she said, her good hand curling into a fist, preparing to strike. “You’ll never get the passcode. The SKS is useless without it.”

My mind was divided. I had two pieces of the puzzle, both with irregular edges. They didn’t fit. The prototype and Olivia. One was worth half a billion dollars. The other was worth nothing.

I knew which one interested me more.

Before I could press, she launched at me. But she’d lost all finesse. Desperate, borderline clumsy, she tackled me onto my back. It took nothing for me to flip us. I pinned her to the rubber mats, one hand wrapped around her throat.

I squeezed until she stopped resisting.

“Why do you want Olivia?”