Heist Royale (Thieves’ Gambit #2)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Thirty-Seven

I thought we would never hit the water, but when we did, I wished we hadn’t.

The bench cushion slammed against the water. At least, I thought it was water. The impact felt more akin to hitting solid metal. My chest, my legs, my bones were crushed against the stupid faux leather. The impact knocked my sight into black for a second. My limbs went out of commission.

We did hit the water. We’d landed. Was I broken, though?

Water engulfed me. I felt myself rolling off the bench cushion into the water, and thankfully, that seemed to trigger my arms and legs to reboot. Treading water, I felt inside my jacket. The film canister was still in place, and thankfully sealed tightly.

Above, sparks were flying from where the car was skirting across the cable. Following behind at a less breakneck speed was Diane. I was sure she wanted to follow us into the water, but she had no cushion to break her fall, and that would certainly not end well for her. It’d barely ended well for us.

Wait, it did, didn’t it?

“Kyung-soon!” Slapping the water, I turned around. There was no one else above the surface. Only me and a drifting bench cushion.

I had sucked in a breath to dive under and find her when she broke the surface. Already halfway toward the pier. “Hurry the hell up!” she yelled, then dove back under.

Note to self: Find a way to actually make up for this later.

There wasn’t exactly a ladder leading the six or so feet up to the pier, so we swam around to the shore by the outbuilding. We walked soggily toward the darkened door. No one appeared to be waiting outside, but I could swear I made out more than a couple silhouettes lurking in the trees.

“They can’t go anywhere without an entourage of bodyguards,” Kyung-soon said, wringing water out of her hair. She shivered, and I offered her my jacket, despite it being waterlogged and despite the fact that she had her own equally waterlogged jacket. Kyung-soon stared at the ground. “I didn’t think you could win; that’s why I didn’t back you from the start.” She tapped the canister in my hand. “I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

Six months ago, I don’t think I would’ve been able to forgive her. But now I just shrugged and smiled. “I believe your intentions were good. And screw what people say, sometimes intention is just as important as impact.”

“I feel like I’ve been thinking that for years…” She let out a breath, and we both stopped at a large metal door. The sliver of light slipping out from the bottom made it clear someone was home. Maybe a lot of people. “What are you going to do?” Kyung-soon asked. “You could give Count the win, or…”

Or do it my way.

I looked at Kyung-soon, and I think she knew.

She straightened her shoulders. “Well, here we go, then.”

···

The outbuilding’s heavy metal doors groaned as Kyung-soon and I each pushed.

The sound echoed through what was little more than a large concrete-floored open-plan space. Outdoor equipment, kayaks, and paddleboats were stacked against the walls. The place might have been under renovation for something at some point, but into or from what exactly, I couldn’t be sure.

Directly ahead, two wooden seating areas almost like pews were situated adjacent to each other. Count and Baron each stood before one, clearly too tense to sit. And lining the room behind them, oh-so many of those armed goons. More than one was holding a tablet, catching the coup de grace of this final phase from multiple angles.

An audience. Perfect.

“Ms.Shin?” Baron said through gritted teeth.

Kyung-soon tucked some hair behind her ear. “Don’t look at me.” She made a grasping motion with her hand.

Taking the cue, I handed my phone—I really did have the sturdiest phone case ever—off to Kyung-soon, stepped forward, and held up the film canister.

It looked like a thousand pounds might have been lifted off Count’s slender shoulders. “You pathetic, desperate upstart,” she said to Baron, who was absolutely vibrating with fear.

“Tell me, B, would you prefer to spend the next ten or so years of your life in a high-security prison or disappear completely? I’m sure someone in our organization knows someone who needs a crime to be taken off their hands and dumped onto someone else’s record. Or maybe we should sell you to Hart’s. I wonder how many chips you’re worth.”

“This is a mistake,” Baron sputtered. He stepped backward until his legs hit the pew behind him. His tablet screen was flooding with messages, though they were too distant for me to read. The way Baron paled told me they were not in his favor.

He cleared his throat and tried to recover. “A game is not an accurate way to decide this. This isn’t fair—”

“Since when do we care about fair?” Count said, her eyes alight with a manic sort of power that, for all I knew, I could be on the other end of come tomorrow.

Count nodded one of the goons in Baron’s direction, but he didn’t move.

They were watching me, and the canister in my hand, which I hadn’t yet handed off to Count.

Neither Count nor Baron noticed when I found the lighter in my back pocket. They were so hung up in their own moment that no one except the goons seemed to notice as I rubbed the wet wheel dry on my thumb pad, flicked it a few times, then popped open the film canister and lit the reel. It caught fire immediately. A mountain of fire exploded in the film canister, singeing my fingertips. I dropped it, letting the disaster land with a powerful clang on the concrete floor.

Now, that got their attention. Fast.

And it left them both speechless. I walked past Count and Baron and gently took a tablet from one of the wallflower crew. To my surprise, he didn’t stop me.

Again, the screen was only a reflection of myself and a chat box hosting over a thousand anonymous viewers and commenters. I gestured toward the burning fire. “I just burned that right in front of Count and Baron, and neither of them even tried to stop me. They didn’t even notice.”

“I—” Baron started.

“Be quiet,” a woman with a side holster said firmly. A faint buzz told me she was just a mouthpiece for whoever was speaking through her ear com.

Baron clenched his jaw, but he sure as hell shut up.

I went on. “I’ve spent more time than I’d like with Baron and Count over the last few months. Mostly with Count, but just enough with Mr.Baron to decide I personally hate him a little more. You know what I’ve learned? Yeah, they’re both appropriately sinister, calculating, and intimidating enough for the job you want them to fill. But more than that, they’re both relentless idiots.”

Count’s and Baron’s death glares were almost strong enough to send me flying, but neither of them said a damn thing.

“I don’t know what kind of job application process there is for an organization as…unique as yours, but you sincerely need to revamp it. You can do better than someone as petty as Count or as inexperienced as Baron.”

The chat was silent. It seemed several people were typing, but no messages were going through. I pinched the tablet to keep the tremor in my hands from showing. This was a big gamble. Being met with silence wasn’t on the list of things I was prepared for.

A buzz from the tablet broke the tension. Are you applying?

“No,” I said. “You don’t want me. As you can see, I have an attitude and am prone to bouts of disobedience. But you’re on the right track. Count and Baron don’t know a damn thing about ground operations. You need someone who (A) knows how to run a job personally and (B) who still has that calculating ruthlessness you so adore in these two.” I gestured half-heartedly to Count and Baron, who were still plotting my murder in their heads if their expressions were any indication.

I cleared my throat, still uninterrupted by any pesky comments in the chat box. Still holding on to their curiosity, at least for the time being.

Baron tried to open his mouth again, but another “Quiet” from one of the goons nipped that right in the bud.

“Ruthless efficiency.” The words were simultaneously scathing and flattering. “Someone who never gets tripped up by emotions. Who always gets what she wants.” I swallowed. “Someone who’d risk her relationship with her own daughter to make a few million, and the only lesson she’d learn from failing is how not to get caught next time.”

“You can’t be serious.” Count tore toward me, trying to snatch the tablet away, but was promptly caught in a wristlock by the sentinels.

I went on. “Rhiannon Quest is exactly who you’re looking for. To be honest, I’m surprised she hasn’t joined your gang already.” Had there ever been a more fitting shoe?

“You’re insane,” Baron said. “You can’t just replace us with your mummy. No one is going to respect that sort of change. It makes us look amateurish, we lose credibility—” He was talking more to the organization than me, obviously. But would they bite?

They just needed a little more incentive.

“Ross isn’t the only one who supports this,” Kyung-soon said. I turned back to her. On the phone, she gave me a nod and a thumbs-up. “Taiyō Itō and I have cross-referenced the Quests’, Boscherts’, and his personal network of underground contacts over the last twenty-four hours. We did some testing, you could say. We contacted a hefty number of industry heavy hitters and misinformed one-third of them that Count was still in charge of the organization, then told one-third it was going to Baron, and one-third that the position had been given to Rhiannon Quest. Then we asked all of them to complete a job pro bono, out of fealty to the organization, of course. When they thought it was Baron or Count in charge, only fifty percent agreed. But when it was Rhiannon Quest at the helm?

“Seventy-five percent,” Kyung-soon filled in. She crept in closer, still holding my phone to her ear. “Taiyō recorded of all the responses. I’m dropping a secure link to a spreadsheet we created with all of this information.”

“A fabrication,” Count said. Apparently she and Baron were being granted some speaking privileges now. One final desperate gasp for air, I hoped. “A twenty-five percent increase in fealty is—” She broke into a hysterical laugh. “That’s just not realistic.”

“It’s true,” I said. “You’re not half as intimidating as my mom. No one trusts her, but everyone respects her. On a performance level, I haven’t talked to one professional who doesn’t want to stay on her good side. She has a reputation for getting stuff done, no matter who she has to mow down. That kind of heartless person you don’t want to cross. Now, is that the kind of person you want on your team? Or one of the petty losers who let me embarrass them in front of you because they’re too busy bickering with each other?”

A new message vibrated in the chat.

I like these numbers.

Count inhaled sharply.

I know she has her own motives, but I suppose she has a point here.

Do you remember Rhiannon’s Gambit? She is absolutely cutthroat.

We love a vicious woman.

A familiar industry face might not be the worst idea??

A poll appeared on the screen.

RHIANNON QUEST? Yes? No?

The numbers added up quickly. I watched unblinkingly, my hands holding on to the tablet for dear life as I watched the yes bar grow and grow and grow. It passed the halfway point and kept going. But once it went past that benchmark, I knew that was enough. As long as this thing was democratic.

“No, no, no!” Count, who’d gotten a tablet from someone, was losing her mind. Baron looked like he wanted to completely evaporate.

The poll ended with a solid 80 or so percent in the yes category. A new message popped into the chat.

It’s a yes to Rhiannon Quest…for now.

I let out a breath of such relief, I almost laughed. Holy crap, that actually worked.

“How wonderful.” One of the goons stepped out of her shadowy post, much to the curiosity of those around her. She slid off her bulky coat, which trimmed about a fourth of her size. Shimmied off her wig and pinched off her boxy glasses. It should have been some kind of metaphor how quickly Mom went from disguised to recognizable. At least I was getting used to it. The goons around her, not so much. One man actually did a double take as Mom walked past him, still a few inches taller than usual in heeled boots.

Mom pressed a kiss to my forehead, which I quickly backed away from, grimacing. “This is the best Mother’s Day present ever, you know.”

“It’s not May.”

“Yeah, but you won’t be able to top this.”

“I didn’t do this for you.”

She knew that, but accepted happily anyway. So be it. Whatever she was going to do with this newfound power wasn’t my concern at the moment. It was more what she wouldn’t let happen. The chances of Diane getting her Quest-family-ending favor had now dropped to 0 percent. And if that was the case, then we won. Even if it meant Mom’s eye might be on me for the rest of my life now. But I had faith her new gig would also be distracting enough that she wouldn’t need me around as much.

Mom pulled her hair out of the ponytail it’d been in under her wig, fluffing it out to great dramatic effect as her attention turned from me to Count and Baron, now completely surrounded by Mom’s new army.

“First order of business…” Mom dropped her hands on her hips. “About the dissenters. Count, I’d appreciate some guidance on minutiae, so I was thinking of letting you be my assistant. Aren’t you honored?”

Count spat the foulest French curses I’d ever heard. “I would never—”

“I was thinking you could be my assistant or you could disappear into option B. I don’t think you want to know what option B is.”

Count bit her tongue, resigned.

“And me?” Baron managed to keep his head up; I’d give him that.

Mom’s back was to me, but her smug smile was audible. “Give me a reason to keep you around.”

Baron’s brown eyes darted back and forth. “I…I can cook.”

“No.” Marc shook his head from a spot in the shadows behind Baron. “No, he cannot.”

The comment box on my tablet was a storm of laughter.

I laid the tablet on the floor and backed away. I let out a breath as I stepped farther and farther from the action.

“Don’t pass out.” Kyung-soon now lingered near a shelf of dusty towels and floaties. She grabbed my shoulders as if to keep me from teetering. Maybe I was teetering.

“It’s fine. You’ll catch me, right?”

“If I don’t, will your mom have me executed?”

“I honestly have no clue.” And I hoped this wasn’t a big mistake.

Kyung-soon halfway nodded; then a voice buzzed from my phone in her hand. “Oh, Taiyō’s still on.”

She pushed the phone into my hand. He seemed to have sensed when it was at my ear. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks for the last-minute help.”

He tsked. “Don’t think of it as a favor. Everything is for a purpose.”

I rolled my eyes, though a bud of fondness was behind it. Sure, he was really only helping because (A) the new connections he got helping me out were worth their weight in gold, and (B) kinda, sort of tangentially knowing the new front woman of the organization wasn’t such a bad win either. Also, I got the vibe that Mom liked Taiyō, which was saying something.

“Well, I appreciate that your interests have aligned with mine,” I said.

“Hm.” I imagined him pushing up his glasses. “The facility is being investigated by law enforcement, by the way. I don’t believe Noelia and Mylo will have trouble talking their way out of suspicion.”

Undercover until the end. Good on them.

“And…Devroe?”

Kyung-soon folded her arms. “I texted him the rendezvous point. He’s probably on the way.” She was wringing out her jacket now.

I huffed a laugh. Wasn’t I trying to get Devroe arrested just a few weeks ago? Oh, how time, a few heists, and some near-death experiences can change things. Across the room, I watched Baron gesturing wildly, trying to demonstrate some kind of value to Mom.

“About Devroe…” Kyung-soon said. “I wonder if your mom will still have to—”

My head snapped around as something cut Kyung-soon off. A hand covered her mouth and a snap sounded before a stick was pushed under Kyung-soon’s nose. Quicker than I could push the assaulting hand away, Kyung-soon was knocked out cold. On instinct, I dropped to catch her, but an arm snaked around my neck, pulling me in tight.

Yelling, I clawed my nails into the arm. Until the all-too-familiar feeling of a chilly barrel dug into my side.

“Another secret play, then? Quests only know how to win by cheating.”

Mom and the rest of the room were facing us now. And Mom’s attention only made Diane twist the barrel under my ribs. She started backing up, and with no other option, I backed up with her.

Mom followed. And behind her a dozen goons. “Di, I’mma give you one warning to stop.”

Diane didn’t stop. I gritted my teeth as we passed through the back doors and onto the dock. Its wooden planks creaked under our shuffling feet. Diane’s head pivoted for half a second, and I took in a sharp breath as I felt her finger tightening on the trigger. That stopped any quick thoughts about trying to twist out of her deadly hold before they could blossom.

Mom, with her new militia just one step behind and armed, had the eyes of a tiger as she kept up with us. Watching me closely, like the predator she was, waiting for the moment to pounce.

“There’s nothing but water behind,” I said through gritted teeth. “You’re backing yourself into a corner.”

“You don’t know anything about being backed into a corner,” Diane said, still pulling me along.

“Don’t snap at her, because she’s right,” Mom said, ears sharp as knives apparently. “You don’t have anywhere to go besides the water. Drop the gun and drop her, and we can—”

“What? We can talk?” Diane pulled so hard I almost slipped. I squeaked pathetically. Mom sprinted a good five feet ahead before Diane tightened her arm around my neck and yanked me back, ordering her to halt without saying a single word.

“Talk? I tried to talk to you for weeks after the Gambit! You never wanted to talk about anything then.”

“I— You—” Mom fumbled. I knew this was the type of situation she would’ve avoided before. But, as my constricting throat was reminding me, there wasn’t much room for evasion right now.

Diane’s steps slowed, as did mine. The sound of water gently lapping against the dock somehow made it over the thrumming of my heartbeat. Only then did I realize how far into the lake we were. We must have hit the end of the dock.

Mom whispered something to her militia, quiet enough that I couldn’t hear. She was planning something, and I had a feeling it involved Diane winding up dead.

“Don’t do this to yourself,” I said, my voice small. “She’s going to kill you.”

Something shattered. The spotlight at the end of the pier, the one I hadn’t realized until now was right behind us, brightened tenfold without the glass lens. Straining to get a look behind me, I caught a glimpse of shattered glass around the floodlight and the sparkling LED bulb inside. Diane had kicked the lens in.

Then she kicked the light so hard, splinters of wood flew up from under it. The light plunked into the water. An electrifying crackle cut through the air. The floodlight, still connected to some underwater power source, lit the water from underneath. The surface might as well have been sparking itself. A fried minnow floated to the surface. Then another, and another.

I winced as Diane pulled us both to the very edge of the pier, and the electrified water.

“Don’t shoot!” Mom demanded, calling off whatever attack she’d just tried to put together.

“Mom…”

“It’s fine.” Her face said it was anything but. One rough gust of wind, and Diane and I were both going in.

“Is that really how much you hate me? You gonna kill yourself to get back at me?” Mom asked.

“No…” Diane said.

“Then what the hell are we doing here?” Mom snapped back. “Besides making a fool of yourself.”

“Tell me why,” Diane said. I could feel her shaking her head. Loose strands of her silk-pressed hair nipped my face. “What mattered more than August? Did you ever care about him? Did you ever care about me?”

“Let my daughter go, and maybe I’ll talk to you.” Mom pursed her lips. I knew what that meant. After Diane let me go, Mom wasn’t saying anything. Even in this situation.

Diane let out a distraught laugh. The incredulous kind. “Even now you think you can just do whatever and get what you want. You always win, and you never look back. Isn’t that right?”

Diane spun me. I lost my balance and tripped backward, only to be caught by my shirt collar. I screamed, the toes of my sneakers barely on the dock’s edge. My fingers sunk into Diane’s arm, and thank god she was planted firm. Frantically, I looked between my grasp on her and the electric water and back again. I swore I could hear the burning LED lights sizzling under the water.

“Don’t,” Mom said, reaching out but unable to take any steps closer. “Please.”

“Please, but no apology?”

“I’m not apologizing to you while you hold my daughter over a death pit.”

Diane grimaced and loosened one pinky. I yelped, dropping a couple millimeters before finding my balance. I was heaving in breaths now.

Some poor creature under the surface hit the lights and a crackle pop sizzled under me.

For a second I imagined my skin burning and sizzling on impact. Would I be alive long enough to feel myself being fried?

At least three or four guns clicked. Mom’s goons had their weapons up and leveled. “Drop her, and I’ll shoot you,” Mom said.

“Shoot me, and I’ll drop her,” Diane countered. I could feel her loosening her ring finger. Her finger continued to loosen, and I shifted my toes frantically, fighting for a better grip on the dock. “You’re going to kill me anyway, aren’t you? Maybe you should know what it feels like to lose something first, the same way you’ve been threatening to take my child from me.”

“She didn’t do that! It was Baron screwing with you!” I insisted. In this situation, it probably sounded like I would make up any bull to help myself.

“Don’t put your guns down,” Mom said to her goons.

Diane loosened her ring finger completely. I screamed.

A whistle cut through the air, and in a crack of a second, everyone was looking behind Mom. She gestured some of the crew to the side, clearing a line of sight for all of us.

At the other end of the dock, breathing like he’d just been running for miles and miles, was Devroe. Jacket gone, legs smeared with grime. Had he run all the way here?

He skidded to a stop halfway between the edge of the pier and Mom’s gang, casting a careful look back at Kyung-soon, who was still unconscious on the floor inside.

Diane sighed. Was she annoyed he’d made his way down here?

“Devroe—” she started.

“Who won?” he asked.

That was the question he was asking right now?

“She always wins,” Diane repeated. Like it was a thought constantly drilling into her gray matter.

Devroe’s eyes widened as he looked at my mom. He shook off the shock like a pro.

“I want to make my wish.”

Mom scoffed. “Not taking requests at the moment.”

“They said I could make my wish when the game was over, and I want to make it.”

“What is it?” one of the goons behind Mom asked, still with the tablet. I was positive the members were still watching, if only for their own entertainment.

Mom clenched her hands at her sides. I readjusted my grip on Diane’s arm, praying my hands weren’t getting too sweaty to hold on.

Over my trembling breath, I looked at Devroe. He gave me a sad little smile, and I had the feeling he was about to say something either really sappy or very stupid.

“If anyone harms Ross Quest, or the rest of the Quests, I want you to kill me. That’s my wish.”

“Devroe!” Diane screamed. I was shocked enough to almost lose my balance. Was he…for real?

For me?

“Done,” Mom said.

Diane twisted her fist into my shirt and pulled me back onto the dock. I stumbled forward, almost sick with relief. Solid ground, my best friend.

“You win, Rhi,” Diane said. She was a tired woman. A tired, tired woman. And I think we might have just drained another decade off her life. “As usual.”

Mom shuffled forward, and for a change, I let her put her arms around me. But only for a second. I pushed out of her grasp and reached for Devroe, who’d managed to get past the guards now. He was trying very hard not to make eye contact with his mother.

“Is Kyung-soon okay?” I asked.

“She’s just asleep. I gave her my coat,” he said quickly.

“You’re a chivalrous idiot.”

“And you’re alive. You’re welcome.”

There was a thud. Diane had dropped to her knees at the end of the dock. Devroe took a step toward his mom, who was glancing back at the water. She put a hand up, stopping him.

Mom was standing at a distance, arms folded and brow furrowed. She was paying attention, though.

“Mom.” I posted myself just a few inches in front of her. No chance of looking away. “You need to tell her. If you ever want to see me again, ever, you need to tell her. You have everything else, at least give her an explanation. What did you wish for?”

“I…”

Diane remained silent. Mom pointed back to the outbuilding. “Check on the girl.” With that, her new crew obediently shuffled away, and it was just the four of us left on the dock, over a deadly electrified lake.

Mom took a few hesitant paces up to her old friend. “I’m not sorry for what I did. But I wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t worth it.”

“Nothing was worth more than August.”

“No. Nothing I had yet.”

I frowned. Until Diane turned and found me. Devroe did too.

Hold up.

“Are you talking about me ?” I asked.

Mom, the only one who hadn’t turned her attention to me, instead looked out over the water with a wistful, sadly nostalgic sort of air and sighed. “Early-onset endometriosis. Practically incurable twenty years ago. It was completely unglamorous. If I’d said something, you would have figured out what I was doing back then. What I’d wish for.”

Diane laughed sadly. “You really aren’t sorry, then, are you.”

“No, and I never will be. But I do miss him too. And you.”

Turning on a dime, Mom straightened her shoulders and headed back down the pier. But when she passed me, she grazed my cheek with her finger. “You look like your daddy,” Mom said to Devroe, but kept walking.