Page 92 of Tito

Tito

So far, our survey of the gold dealer’s shop had produced nothing. Behind a locked steel door at the rear of the facility was the last place to look.

Using nothing more than the illumination from the distant streetlights that filtered through the storefront windows, Ally fidgeted with the lock for roughly ten seconds.

She glanced over her shoulder, turned the handle and pushed the door open. “Cross your fingers.”

Frozen in place, Baker, Cash and I gawked at the sight.

Prepared for their worldwide debut—which was in two days—the coins sat in the dimly lit room, spread out amongst six folding tables. As they were situated before us, neither their rarity nor denomination was known. The sheer quantity, however, was staggering to say the least.

Baker exhaled. “Holy—”

“Shit,” I said, finishing his thought.

Baker glanced in Ally’s direction. “Get the car ready. We’ll get everything to the back door. I’ll give the signal when we’re done.”

Ally had already turned away. “One step ahead of you, Boss.”

“We good, Goose?” Baker said into his Bluetooth device.

“This town’s dead,” Goose responded, seeming bored with his rooftop position as the night’s sentry.

As Cash rushed toward the display of coins, I quickly surveyed the room. Flat steel boxes were neatly positioned along the wall opposite the coins. Together, Baker and I sauntered in that direction. Upon reaching them, Baker leaned over and opened one.

His eyes went wide. “Jackpot.”

“What?” I asked.

He gestured toward the hidden contents. “Look at this.”

I peered over his shoulder and into the box. A blue felt display housed more than two dozen diamond rings. Each were breathtaking in their own regard.

Baker glanced at his watch. He touched his earpiece with his index finger. “I want to be gone at zero-three-seventeen. We’re going to need all the help we can get. Goose, abandon your post and get in here.”

We used Bluetooth to communicate amongst ourselves when we worked together. Using our real names wasn’t a worry, as the transmissions weren’t able to be heard by anyone who wasn’t linked to the Bluetooth devices.

Communicating off-site—typically with Reno—was different. Bluetooth wouldn’t travel the distance needed. In lieu of using phones, a two-way radio was chosen. As the radio transmissions could potentially be heard by others, codewords and fictitious names were used.

“Roger that,” Goose responded.

Describing Baker as superstitious would be like describing the Grand Canyon as an eroded riverbed. His demand that we be gone at 3:17 was made for superstitious reasons, I was sure. Granted, we needed to be gone as soon as possible, but four minutes left us little time to get everything loaded—especially with Reno being poised and ready for a diversion at the other end of the city.

“Goose and l will take the jewelry,” I said. “You and Cash get the coins.”

Working as a well-oiled machine, Goose and I emptied the steel boxes of their jewelry, consolidating everything into one large metal container. The coins—each fitted in a clear plastic case—were swept off the table and into the empty jewelry boxes by Baker and Cash.

In just over three minutes, everything was stacked inside the exit. Cash and I went back to the room for one last look.

He gestured toward a door at the rear corner of the room. “What’s in there?”

I checked the time. We had thirty seconds to go. “Fuck, I don’t know.”

He tried the handle. As expected, it was locked.

“Fucker’s locked.” He rubbed his hands together feverishly. “You know whatever’s in there has got to be good.”

“Quit fucking around,” Baker bellowed into the room. “Let’s go. We’ve got everything.”