Page 115 of Stealing Blinds

“Nice,” Jax husks out.

“Is the resort involved?” Tessa asks as she doodles in a notebook.

“Doubtful. The Minds of Our Time retreat has been around for nearly two decades. They’ve always held it at this resort, but I don’t think that correlates to the information storage. From what E provided, the bunker is simply a space they rent out. Probably for an exorbitant amount.”

I palm Sylvie’s head, realizing there are things I’m not caught up on. “Has E given you a location for the drop?”

“Brussels, Belgium.”

“That’s a lot of moving pieces.” Ryker studies her for a beat, tense because he’ll be waiting here, separated from the rest of us while it all goes down. “Do you have a strategy for how we pull this off?”

A smile blooms on my face. “Of course she does.”

Sylvie mirrors my expression, confident and completely in her element. “I’ve thought a lot about what our approach should be.” Her gaze flits to the Picasso painting with admiration and the wall of black-and-white photographs that showcase a nostalgic glimpse of my siblings and me growing up together and running La Lune Noire. “Since I’m teaming up with the Noires, we should do it your way.”

Axel cocks his head with curiosity. “Which is …”

She snuggles closer, squeezing my thigh. “Controlled chaos.”

MAPPING

The layout of the resort hosting Minds of Our Time is vast, sprawling across the private island with four restaurants, several bars, a crêperie, two massive pools, a spa, entertainment and conference centers, and a wide array of suites and cottages. The grounds are majestic with steep, jagged cliffs and turquoise water. It sounds like a phenomenal vacation, but none of that is as important as what lies on the lower level.

“It’s not a basement, like what we’d see here.” Sylvie stands at the front of the penthouse conference room, pointing to the map she has pulled up on a presentation screen like a sexy schoolteacher. “There are unfinished pocket rooms, essentially.” She taps dead center. “One here for a wine cellar.” She directs us to the farthest section on the right. “This is the area that houses the documents. It’s where I need access.” She gestures to the far left. “But this is the server room. Their security system is robust, so hacking poses challenges. If they detect tampering, it could shut it all down. Getting someone in there with a localized reader is our best bet.”

Her lips quirk up in a smile as she stares into the video monitor on the wall, addressing the guys from Rena’s family. “I suggest our tactical and swim team take that.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Liam agrees. “The evening we arrive, we can clamp an OFI—optical fiber identifier—to their fiber cable. That allows us to read signals completely undetected.”

“Great.” Her shoulders relax with her relief. “I was struggling to facilitate this part of the job on my own. The water is cold, and it’s a difficult swim—or it would’ve been for me to do alone—but from what I gathered, you could probably enter through the old sewer system.”

“That was a possibility I was toying with,” Wells commends her while pouring Sour Skittles into his hand. He’s the chief of their group, so planning is likely his domain, but while he’s intense, he always does a hell of a job giving credit where it’s due. “I caught those on the schematics.”

Maddox flicks his knife shut and speaks to the guys on the screen. “Entering through a sewage system seems slimy, even for all of you.”

Liam chuckles, his hazel eyes glinting with mischief. “It’s outdated, not used anymore. It’s like a big chute that they used to throw shit into the ocean. Before people knew better.”

“Poor fucking fish,” Jax mutters.

“The best option is the stormwater drainage system,” Wells says. “We need high tide for that so the entrance is concealed below the water. We’ll use an SDV—SEAL Delivery Vehicle. It’s a torpedo-shaped submarine.”

“Okay.” Sylvie clasps her hands, and everything about that and the rest of her body language screams hope. “I’ll let you handle that so we can concentrate on what things look like on the inside.”

I wonder if she recognizes it, the shift in her ability to trust. I’m sure there are still nerves and reservations, but Wells and Liam hopped on this call, told her their background and skill set, and she took my word that they were reliable. She wouldn’t have even fathomed that a few weeks ago.

Progress.

Since Gage and Ty will be joining us over there, too, Rena, the other girls, and all the kids will be staying here with Ryker, Mercy, and Remy. I would give a kidney to be a fly on the wall for that.

Leaning back in my chair, I guide Sylvie to the most important question. “What about getting you to where you need to be?”

“Well”—she searches the blueprint, as if she’s envisioning all of it, from the Burgundy limestone floors to the elaborate conference activities to the guests sipping champagne—“even if we’re monitoring where everyone is, they’re doing the same. Since we’re guests, a diversion somewhere else in the resort that poses a safety hazard isn’t ideal.”

Tessa nods along. “They’ll corral us like sheep.”

“And if we resist it”—Jax strokes the strings on his guitar lighter, pausing for the flame—“suspicion will surround us.”

“It also doesn’t guarantee that the lower-level guards will be engaged,” Zara interjects. “They could stay their post.”