With A Twist(32)
He was pissed at me.
As is my habit, I jumped in the shower as soon as I got to my apartment to scrub off the indecency of my job, making sure the heavy makeup swirled down the drain along with the metaphorical slime I was coated in. My shame in baring my body to strangers is lessening, and maybe that’s due solely to the fact that I was willing to do so much more than strip to make sure my cover remained intact.
More shame piles on.
More guilt.
More embarrassment.
More than anything, I wish I were back home… in my little bungalow house in Pittsburgh… snuggled on the couch and watching a marathon of Criminal Minds. That show is a little out there, and isn’t indicative at all of what it’s really like in the BRIU, but it provides me with entertainment that I can relate to somewhat.
I want that very badly right now. I’m homesick, beaten down, and I need some type of familiar comfort.
The knock at the door has me padding softly into my living room. Before I can even detour to the couch for my gun, I hear Wyatt’s gruff voice. “It’s Raze.”
My heart starts a mad thumping, fueled on by anxiety and the need to ease my conscience with him. I open the door to let him in, avoiding eye contact because I’m at an absolute loss as to what to say.
Wyatt walks straight into my kitchen and pulls two Diet Cokes out of my fridge. I follow him in and take the can from his offered hand, popping the top and taking a sip. Wyatt sits down at the table and kicks at the chair opposite of him. “Sit.”
I pull the chair out a little further and take a seat, setting my can on the table. I notice that my soda is ice cold, which means I’m having a good fridge day, and that is one good thing that has happened to me.
I wait for him to lay into me for what I did to him, but he merely says, “I’ve got a tentative plan for how this will go down tomorrow. I want to discuss it with you and then hash it out. You have an excellent mind and while I have a general idea of what we should do, I really want your help in figuring this out.”
I raise my eyes to his in surprise, and I see nothing but determination on his face.
No condemnation.
No anger.
Nothing but fortitude to get the job done well.
“Then let’s get to work,” I say as I scoot my chair forward and rest my arms on the table. This is a temporary reprieve for me, but I feel immediate relief we aren’t confronting what happened in Simon’s office just yet. “Tell me the basics.”
Wyatt scoots forward and leans his arms on the table as well, loosely twining his fingers. “It’s only going to be Simon and me taking you to the sale. No clue who the buyer will have with him, so that’s an unknown.”
“We should plan for there to be several,” I pipe in.
Wyatt nods. “Exactly. Gomez wants to put a tracker on you, but I nixed that idea, and we’ll just depend on him to follow the GPS on my phone. While I don’t think Simon doubts you or me, I don’t want to risk it if he chooses to search you.”
“I’m fine with that,” I tell him. “When will you arm me?”
“Just before the sale. They think I’m drugging you with a dose of Ecstasy and ketamine. That would make you a little loopy. I told Lance I’d drug you right after your last dance and then take you to Simon’s office to wait. You should act a little buzzed, totally compliant, and in a really good mood. Our cover is that we’re taking you to an after-hours party to dance.”
“Sounds good,” I say as I nod my head. “And how about this… put me in the car unarmed… backseat. I’ll pretend to fall asleep. You make sure you’re the one that has to get me out of the car… maybe just positioning yourself near the car. When you reach in to wake me up… pull me out, whatever, have a gun in your waistband for me to grab.”
Wyatt gives me a small smile. “That’s pretty good. Let’s do that.”
“So, how do you want the bust to go down?”
“We need the money to change hands. This is where a whole lot of luck will be involved. I expect Simon will want to take the cash, so I’ll keep a grip on your arm while that’s happening. I imagine Simon will then tell me to hand you over. That’s when we need to draw our weapons.”
“It would really help if we could make sure they were segregated somewhat,” I muse.
“Right… make it easier for us to cover them without getting in each other’s way,” he finishes. “How about you create a bit of a diversion? Maybe fight with me a little before I hand you over. I’ll give you a little push toward the buyer and that’s the signal for both of us to draw?”