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These pictures depict a person no taller than five foot five and thin, no muscle build beneath the all-black clothing. Then, there’s the black demon’s mask hiding all facial features, but there are two things that are easy to pinpoint: long brown hair, and a small tattoo I’ve seen before. Flipping to the next picture, immediately I notice it’s an entirely different physique, not overly muscular, but male this time and the hair is a bleached blond with dark roots and the makings of some kind of washed-out blue color.
“Two different people here. A couple?”
“Possibly.” Callum scratches his jaw, leg shaking. A nervous trait. There’s something he isn’t telling me, and my eyes narrow. “Don’t give me that look, Casper. I need your help to confirm my suspicions.”
“Okay.” He wants my trust. I will, but Lord knows I’ll shoot him too if anything goes south due to incompetence. “You know the risks attached to your request.”
“I can’t let her get hurt.” Those six words change everything. Callum has never been a man to chase a woman, much less care about the well-being of anyone outside those in our family. “I’m asking as your best mate. If she’s involved, I need to get her the fuck out.”
“Done.” Placing the papers aside, I hold both palms up. “The right one means in and out without incident. The left is we tear the bloody place apart and walk out with everything, and this time it includes the artifact they are here to steal.”
“This one depends.”
“On the why?”
“On what it means to her.” Enough said for me. I remember when I stalked Gem—when I dropped everything to see her or step in when she needed me—Callum was there, no questions asked. “You in?”
“I’d never let you go in alone, wanker.” The car stops a few seconds after I answer, and we’re behind a stack of old containers for shipping overseas—the area seems empty, devoid of security, but I know better. At once, I spot someone’s flashlight skimming along the ground not far from here and I roll down my window, aiming for their direction. “Ours, or not?”
A low whistle greets my ears, and beside me Callum snorts. “Ours. It’s Archie.”
“He’s a good lad.”
“A little psychotic too.” Four doors open, and we step out onto the port. The smell of salt is crisp in the air and so is the wind, whipping around us while Archie stops before us. In his arms are uniforms similar to the one he wears, and I take mine last.
“Good to see you, Mr. Jameson.” He extends a hand, which I take, nodding back while the others don the port overalls that are customary for disembarkment. “It’s a busy night and all hands are on deck; bobbies and every other department they could swing this way. Bloody bastards are watching every entry point for movement, but they missed this section due to it not being used and the museum’s director wanting them to surround the piece until it’s inside the armored car waiting to transfer.”
“How many in total out there?”
“About fifty, and twenty of them work for us. Those handling are all under payroll.” Sliding the overalls over my body, I zip up and accept the identification lanyard needed to enter the area. “Now, you and Callum will walk through and toward the armored truck. You’ll walk through, slide your ID, and pretend to go to the bathroom to clean up.”
“We have our change in the truck?” Callum asks, wiping some grease on his face and then passing me the tub used by mechanics to lubricate parts. Our hands are filthy now and our faces have enough to dissuade others from looking our way, more so when we put on hats with the logo of the company that does these types of maintenance.
“Yes, sir. Everything is there.”
“Good job, mate.” Turning to look at the brothers, he gives them a pointed look. “Everyone knows where to meet after. Be there by five, or we come looking. No one will be left behind. Understood?”
“Yes.”
“Go on.”
“We are taking the truck?” I clap him on the shoulder and give it a squeeze. The worry on his face throws me off for a second, but I remember—know this feeling when it comes to the woman you care about. Safety is always a concern. Protecting is second nature.
“Yes.”
“You’re banking on her being inside.”
Not a question, but he nods anyway. “She’s smart. Way smarter than me, and I know that stealing this from beneath the watchful eyes of Scotland Yard and Interpol won’t be easy, but sneaking onto an isolated truck isn’t impossible. We know this. They’ll watch and track all movement while outside, but once inside behind a locked door, they always become sloppy.”
“Underneath the truck?”
“Or above.”
“We’ll help her, bro. You know I’m here for you.”
Callum smiles and then turns to fully face me, catching me off guard with the quick yet harsh hug he gives. “Thank you, and I apologize ahead of time. It’ll all make sense soon, and I understand now your reaction when it came to Aurora. I wouldn’t hesitate to kill for her, and if shit goes south, I’ll give my life for hers.”
“It won’t come to that. Trust me.” Holding a fist up for him to bump, he does and thenwe walk toward the center of the dock where all the commotion is happening. It takes less than five minutes to reach it, and even less to walk through as everyone’s eyes are on the large crane holding a wooden crate above the concrete ground where another set of crew members wait.
