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He blows out a long breath, still watching Van’s retreat, and when he turns his eyes back to me, I can see how angry he really is at what his so-called buddy just said.
“I want to keep your crew safe,” I tell him softly. “That’s all.”
For a long moment, I’m unable to tear my gaze away from his. The world around us fades away, leaving only a strange, electric connection between us.
“Fine,” he spits at last, his voice low and intense. “I’ll go over the revised plan with the crew, and you can make any suggestions you like.”
“Alright,” I murmur. “Well. Good.”
As we step back into the chaos of the main room, it occurs to me that working on these heists might be the most dangerous thing I’ve ever done, and not because of the risks involved.
But because of this undeniable pull between Bricker and me.
He’s Fabi’s son, my conscience screams at me. That’s all it is, surely. He just reminds me of an old heist partner, so that Iassumea connection that doesn’t exist. Earning Bricker and the crew’s trust is a delicate balancing act. But as I watch them assemble their gear and discuss tactics, I commit to seeing it through, for my sakeandtheirs.
The only thing more dangerous than running a job is running it with crew members whohaven’tcommitted, heart and soul, to seeing it through.
“Alright, let’s get started,” Bricker calls out, bringing the room to attention. “I wanna go over this again, partly for Pedretti’s benefit, but also so I know it’s drilled into every goddamn brain here. The only thing that changes about this is the day we’re doing it.”
As we gather around a table laden with maps, I can feel Van’s bullish stare bearing down on me. I ignore him and focus on the task at hand.
“Van?” Bricker’s voice has an undertone of warning. “You have the floor.”
Van starts going over the strategy. It’s sound enough: he goes over the armored car’s route, and his plan for hitting it under a bridge means we’ll avoid a lot of the cameras on the street, and it gives us extra coverage.
But as the plan unfolds, I notice an issue.
“Any questions?” Van asks. He looks at me.
“Yeah.” I point to one of the streets. “This road’s blocked off right now. They’ve been doing major roadworks there for the last month. So if anything goes wrong with the main escape route, SWAT comes down here behind us—” I trace the route. “And then we’re sitting ducks.”
The room falls silent until Tony the Pony snorts derisively. “What, you think Van didn’t already consider that? We got it covered, Castellani.”
“It’s Pedretti,” I tell him. “And if Van’s got it covered, then I’d like to hear the contingency plan.”
“Pony’s right,” Van says. “I got it covered. Things go south with Plan A, we head up here.” He flicks the map, a narrow utility lane between two buildings. “Missthat, Castellani? Maybe you need to put your glasses on.”
“That laneway is closed off right now,” I say evenly.
Van pauses. “Bullshit. Nothing on the apps say that.”
I do look at him now. “Theapps?” I repeat. “You went out there yourself and used those hawk eyes in the real world, right, Delligatti? Tell me you didn’t plan this heist based on Google fucking Maps.”
“Fuck you,” he fires back. “We’ve been doing this long before you showed up, so maybe just sit back and let the professionals handle it.”
I reel it back in before I make things worse. “Look, I’m not trying to step on anyone’s toes here, but no plan survives contact with the enemy. I just want to know where we go if Plan A fails.”
“And I fucking told you,” Van snarls, stabbing his finger down on the map. “We take this damn lane!”
“And I toldyou, it’s not open,” I repeat doggedly. “So—”
“Enough!” Bricker barks, patience wearing thin. “Van, are you sure about that lane?”
“Yes,” Van says, looking at me.
“It’s one hundred percent open right now?” Bricker asks again.
Van’s head snaps around to him. “You don’t trust me or something?Yes.”
