Risky Temptation (8 page)

Chapter
Nine
Marco
London

             
“You must have some kind of crazy American luck, yeah?” Zeke said, shaking his head as he looked at his laptop screen.

              Sitting in the dining room of our Chelsea house, Zeke had a mini command station set up. I had met him at the German airfield and had eyed his five large trunks. The man looked like he barely owned two pairs of pants. I could only imagine what were in the trunks.

              But I said nothing and gave the nod to load the trunks.

              Once we had arrived at the house, he began unloading his equipment. Clearly Zeke had tried to restrain himself and had only brought what he had considered necessary. But that meant a three screened computer, two different laptops, a CPU, a very long keyboard that seemed to have special buttons that differentiated it from the normal keyboard and several smaller black boxes that he said did various things like catch radio frequencies and trace signals.

              “Yeah?” I said, unable to help myself from catching onto Zeke’s unique phraseology.

              Zeke nodded. “It looks like the a Mr. Thomas Apple, head of security for Turn Tech, is currently on an emergency leave of absence for two weeks,” Zeke said, reading something from his screen.

              “How do you know that?” I asked, amazed.

              “From his emails,” Zeke answered distractedly as he continued to read.

              Of course, his emails. Although I’m sure Turn Tech had good firewalls in place, Zeke was a pro, a fanatic. He would get in anywhere he set his mind to. So it wasn’t too surprising that he had managed to hack into Mr. Apple’s emails.

              “Mr. Apple is notoriously paranoid about who he has brought in for technical support. Usually he has a list of vetted and approved techs that he has for servicing,” Zeke continued. “But with him being out, we’re left with Mr. Garrison Blythe.”

              “Who I’m guessing is much less discerning,” I said, catching onto where he was going.

              Zeke nodded, his eyes zooming across his screens. “Much. He hardly can remember his secretary’s name. There’s no way he’ll remember or much less care what technician comes in to work on the servers. With him in charge, we might have a small sliver of a chance at having this actually work.”

              Excitement danced in Zeke’s eyes. He could care less who had the key or who the Black Saints were. All he enjoyed was the challenge. He liked having a lock to pick. And this was certainly one hell of a lock.

              Human error. That’s what Mr. Blythe was. There was always human error in the end. Roy’s had been paranoia. Mr. Apple’s will be his oversight in hiring incompetent people. When nothing else will work, human error will always be the downfall.

              “So now all we need is a good look at the interior,” I said, leaning on the back of one of the dining room chairs. I looked around, noticing for the first time the chairs, the decorations of the room. Halle had quietly filled the house into a home.

              A pang hit my heart before it was replaced with cold, hard determination.

              Zeke leaned back in his seat, fixing his large eyes on me. He pushed his heavy glasses back up his nose as he sniffed, “Now I have a thought about that.”

              I couldn’t help but smirk. Of course he did. The guy did not stop moving or thinking.

              “Yeah?”

              “Yeah,” he replied. “You know,
you
can’t go on that tour, right?”

              I furrowed my brows. “Why not?”

              Zeke stared at me through his thick glasses. “Because you look like an American mobster hitman,” he replied flatly.

              “No one can tell that from looking at me,” I argued.

              “No, but there’s an energy about you that will make more than one security guard watch you,” he said. “Plus, it’s never good for single men to just show up to things like that.”

              “Then what?” I said. “You’re going to go on the tour instead?”

              Zeke shrugged. “Well, yes, but again, I’d be a single guy as well,” he said. “Not good.”

              “Then what?” I said, starting to get frustrated. “You gonna hire a random girl to pose as your girlfriend on a covert reconnaissance mission to steal something that is internationally coveted right now?”

              “No,” Zeke said, not in the least perturbed by my sarcasm. “Not a girl. A girl would be best, of course, but we don't have one. But what’s even better than a girl is someone handicapped.”

              I stared at him, daring him to say the idea aloud.
He had to be out of his goddamned fucking mind right now.

              Zeke made a casual gesture with his hand. “You know, if a handicapped person had his wheelchair stall in front of strategic points of security, no one could really say anything about that,” he said. “And who would shoo away a helpful brother standing by to help? No one. Which would conveniently allow me to take pictures and closer looks on some of the security that they have.”

              “Zeke—” I started in a warning tone.

              Zeke shrugged. “Honestly, if you or I went on our own, we’d either get thrown out or come back with very little to no extra information. You say we are pressed for time. Your woman is in trouble.” Zeke shrugged again, pausing. “You shouldn’t underestimate him. He’s more resilient than you think.”

              I pressed my lips, not liking this turn of events but realizing that Zeke was right.

              “Goddamn it,” I cursed fiercely under my breath.

              Zeke gave a faint smile, recognizing victory. “I’ll give him a call.”

***

              I watched silently as the view on the computer screen moved away from a man’s bald head to a sleek silver door. The silver door lead into the server room. As far as we had counted, there were only two doors that lead to the server room.              The view shook a little and I couldn’t make out what was next to the door. Was it a fingerprint scanner? A card scanner? Both?

              “Goddamn it, Zeke,” I muttered to myself. “Keep your head straight.”

              Zeke was wearing his thicker framed glasses which had a hidden camera. But with his glasses already being so heavy, the thick frames only made them slide down his nose more often.

              But with the camera, he could take pictures of the layout and security during the tour while simultaneously broadcasting the whole thing back to the house and his computer, where I sat watching.

              I took in a breath when I saw the camera flick over Jamie’s blonde head. God, I really did
not
like having him be a part of this plan.

              Zeke was one of the few people out of the inner Desmond circle who knew of Jamie’s existence. In fact, Zeke had been instrumental in helping set Jamie up in England and making sure he was okay.

              Sure, Zeke had made a fair argument in using Jamie but that didn’t mean I had to like it. Even though Jamie had been practically thrilled at being called on.

              Jamie had come to the house, unable to stop grinning as I gave him last minute reminders on acting casual. He was squirming in his chair, literally itching to go.

              “Stop looking so damn happy about this,” I retorted, annoyed.

              Jamie’s grin widened. “I can’t help it!” he exclaimed. “I’ve just always dreamed about helping you somehow. I knew it could never happen.” He made a gesture towards his wheelchair. “But I always imagined it.” He bit his lip. “And now I can actually help!”

              His eagerness and sincerity melted my stoniness but it also pulled me up short. I was really putting Jamie into a line of danger that I thought I would never cross for him.

              Sure, he wasn’t going on a hit or meeting with some shady dealer. He was going on a public tour of a tech facility that would be peopled with tourists and computer fanatics. But he was part of our team. He was helping us compile information so we could steal something incredibly dangerous.

              I pulled down the cap on his head even lower, wanting to obscure as much of his features as possible.

              “Once you’re inside, don’t look around too much,” I said.

              Jamie gave me a look of consternation. “I’m on a
tour
,” he argued. “I’m
supposed
to look.”

              I shook my head. “Most people, even on tours, don’t look much. They see the big key points and then move on. They don’t lean in for details or note how many windows there are or how many doors. So look but don’t look too much.”

              Jamie rolled his eyes. “Right. I’ll do just the appropriate amount of looking. I’ll resist the urge to go look crazy.”

              I cuffed him on the head.

              And before I knew it, Zeke had come out with his special glasses, ready to head off.

              And I had to take my seat in front of the computers and wait.

              My least favorite thing to do.

              Zeke had gone over the map with Jamie and shown him where he would need him to pretend like something had gotten caught in his wheelchair.

              “I’ll give you a tap to remind you but it’d be good if you could just remember,” Zeke said bluntly in that casual bland voice of his.

              Jamie nodded, memorizing the entire map, eager to prove himself. “I’ll remember.”

              And as I watched the computer screen, I saw the tour director gesture behind him towards the second door to the server. I couldn’t hear what he was saying but by the bored expression on his face, I could tell that it wasn’t too thrilling.

              As the tour group began to move on, I saw the camera halt a little as Jamie jerked his wheelchair right in front of the server door, like we had planned. I saw a glimpse of Jamie’s head turning around, looking down at his chair as if he was confused.

              Zeke stood next to him but his gaze was focused on the server door. I knew the camera was taking several hundred photos per minute. All Zeke had to do was aim carefully at each feature. And to do that, he needed time which was what Jamie was buying him.

              I breathed out slowly. So far, so good. With these photos, we could make a more accurate plan of attack.

              Suddenly a black shadow crossed the computer screen.

              I tensed.

              A security guard came into view. I could see him eyeing Zeke suspiciously. No matter how he dressed or what he did, Zeke was always a character who caught the eye.

              I’m
too obvious for the tour?
I immediately thought in satisfaction but then immediately was too tense to care who was right or wrong.

              The security guard was not moving away. I could still see Jamie’s head in the corner of the screen, moving around as if to lean over and check the wheels.

              The guard made no move to help. He said something to Zeke and pointed at Jamie.

              “Get the fuck out now,” I said to the screen tightly. We got our photos. Just get out as best you can. But get out
now.