The Neo-Metropol Heist

36: Edward

Edward sat and observed Artem and Theo in the simulation chambers every day until the night before the heist.
He watched as the kid would walk into the garage in the morning, volley jokes at everybody around him with a smile and then climb into the tube, his face taut and determined.
He watched as he would fail at some new section of the job and keep throwing himself at it again and again until he smashed through whatever was in his way. The young thief was a joker, a defence mechanism in a hard world, pure and simple, but when it came to his profession, he was focused and resolute.
Theo, too, was not only the brawn of the operation but an integral part of the infiltration team. The two would bicker endlessly about the best way to overcome the obstacles they faced, but in the end they would work it out and at the end of days of tireless practice, they were working as a flawless team.
Edward, in the hours he would observe them, found himself drawing comparisons to his old team. They had all been determined, but they'd never worked as well as the team that Artem Foxe had assembled.
Thieves weren't, by nature, 'pack animals'.
Theo was solitary, a Beacher who had learned to fend for herself and developed a hard shell to compensate. Aphelion, too, was a loner, she preferred the glare of terminal screens to the concentration required for a conversation.
Zakarias was a different sort of man, he had no problem with forming relationships, but there was always the sense that he would only do so if there was a reward for him. The man couldn't have many real friends, just a series of acquaintances that formed a network of back-scratching.
Somehow, though, the loose conglomeration of wolves made a deadly team, a talent pool that Edward had never seen before. It worked.
Of course, Harry remained to watch over his nephew. A careful eye that would flit back and forth from the charismatic thief to the other things that required his attention. He was always there, always watching, and Edward knew that he didn't trust him.
Fair enough, really.
The simulation chamber hummed angrily and then flipped open, Artem and Theo sitting up slowly, both rubbing their necks. Their hair draped over their faces, drenched with sweat.
"I'm still not happy with the extraction," Artem said, brushing his hair back and taking a swig of water from a nearby bottle.
"The diagnostics say that's the quickest run so far," Aphelion said, leaning away from her screen arrangement and pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, "even I'm impressed."
"We can do better," Artem said, standing up gingerly, his legs obviously fragile.
"Kid," Harry said, hovering in the corner of the room, "that was good, you don't need to kill yourself."
Artem glanced at Theo, who nodded.
"He's right," she said, "we just need to get out with our skin, fuck the high-score board."
Artem nodded, obviously frustrated. The kid was a perfectionist, Edward just hoped he had enough sense to not let it ruin everything.
"Yeah, you're right," Artem said. Cad handed him a towel and he took it, wiping the sweat from his brow.
The robot was Artem's other pillar, Edward had noticed. He was always there, assisting. If there was one thing Artem didn't lack, it was companionship. Maybe that would be the thing that would keep him away from thirty-five years in prison.
"The event is tomorrow," Edward said, climbing up from the sofa slowly. His bones were seizing up as bad as his mind, lately, "if you don't have it now, you won't. You just need to get out safe and we all get out of this with our life."
Artem was prideful, but he could tell that Edward was right.
"Good, because I'm not spending another minute in that coffin," he said with a grin, "Harry, is everything sorted your end?"
Harry nodded.
"Almost, there's one or two things I could use a hand with, if you fancy it," he said.
Artem nodded and excused himself, he left the room with Harry, the robot close on his heels. An android wouldn't be Edward's first choice for back up, but then again Edward had never had a spectacular talent at picking companions.
Theo tied her hair back with a headband and flexed her arms with an awkward glance at Edward. They'd never discussed what he'd seen the night Sharpe Tower had been attacked, and Edward had the feeling that they never would.
She nodded politely and left the room, leaving only Aphelion and Edward in the dimly lit garage.
"Nervous?" Aphelion asked, not directly.
Edward nodded.
"Of course," he replied, "if you don't get nervous before something like this, you aren't smart enough to do it. You?"
Aphelion grinned and nodded.
"Can't really say that I'm not now, can I?" She replied, "what do you think about Artem?"
Edward shrugged, moving over to where she sat, casually looking at her screens, trying to make sense of the data that cascaded down them to no avail.
"Do I think he's nervous?" Edward asked.
Aphelion shook her head, "do you think he can do it?"
"Without a doubt," Edward replied, nodding, "I think he's the most talented thief I've ever seen, and he's got a hell of a support team. I've been wrong before, though."
"Let's hope you're right this time, then," Aphelion smiled.
"What about you?" Edward asked, returning the question.
Aphelion shrugged.
"I just get paid to hack, I prefer not to think about the questions beyond 'execute program?'" She grinned.
Edward smiled and then looked over the simulation chambers. They were curious things, cobbled together from old jumpcar parts and trails of wire. High-tech disguised as low-tech.
"Where did you come up with this thing?" Edward asked.
Aphelion's eyes lit up like they did when she had the opportunity to flaunt her genius.
"The machines themselves are actually military grade, I ripped off the blueprints for the design, but the program was weak, designed like a video game for soldiers to practice their reflexes. I made it better, smarter."
Edward was impressed, "so, you can simulate anything?"
"Within reason, I just need visual information for the scenario to establish parameters," Aphelion flicked a few screens away so she could see his face, "why, what did you have in mind?"
Edward didn't even realise he'd asked the question until Aphelion said it.
It was something he'd been thinking about since he first saw the Versus machine, it had started out as a silly fantasy, something to dwell on to keep his mind from wandering as it did so often. It wasn't actually feasible, was it?
"Thirty-six years ago, when I was arrested, in Washington," Edward said, "would there be enough data there for you to build something like that?" He pointed at the screen that showed the simulated Neo-Metropol building.
Aphelion rubbed her chin and pushed her glasses back, her eyes glinting behind them.
"I... guess," she said, spinning back to the screens and flicking through them rapidly, "witness and defendant testimony, visual cues from CSIs... fictional interpretations," she said.
"Fictional interpretations?" Edward asked.
"Yeah, they adapted the story into a movie about fifteen years ago, called Fortune's Downfall," Aphelion said, "it was pretty terrible, but the facts were all there, mostly."
"Huh," Edward said, "I'll have to watch it. You really think you can do this?"
She stopped swiping between screens for a moment and looked at him, a strand of red hair falling between her glasses and her eye.
"I'm sure I can," she said, her face serious, "if you're sure you want to relive it."
Edward met her gaze and nodded. The recollections he had of that day were hazy, at best, for decades after his arrest he'd lain awake on his prison-issue mattress, coiling the sheets around his wrists and cursing the name Sergei Castells.
For years, it had driven him, fuelled him to keep on living. Then his brain had grown old, his memories hazy, filled with other things.
He needed to see it again, to remind himself why he was taking on Sergei Castells. Why he needed to take back what was his.
"Do it," he said, "I need to see it."
Aphelion shrugged and surrounded herself with screens. Over the next hour, Edward watched as she pieced together his own tailored simulation, first building a colourless world of what looked like plasticine, then adding colour and details.
Picking from testimonies given at his trial, and the trials of the rest of the gang, and every other reliable source they could think off, Aphelion had soon built a working replica of the worst day of Edward's life.
"You're done?" Edward asked.
Aphelion nodded.
"I'm very good," she said, pointing at the simulation chambers, "try it out."
Edward glanced at the chamber and back at her, "how does it work?"
Aphelion grinned and stood up, phasing through the screens like a ghost and opening the chamber.
"Lie back, put the headset on," she explained, "then put your hands and feet in the pockets."
Edward sat on the bed of the pod, slid his boots off and lay back as Aphelion handed him the headset.
Edward's head settled into the pillow and he placed the headset over his eyes, hooking the plugs into his ears and lying on the bed in perfect darkness. It was an odd feeling, in a world of constant bombardment from targeted neon advertising, the blackness was respite.
Then, Edward heard a ping and the darkness flashed white, replaced with a burning digital world of oversaturated colours and bright lights.
Edward glanced left to right, the camera of his vision panning with each look. He tried to raise his arm, only for the pocket it was placed it to restrict his physical movement, translating it into virtual movement.
Looking around, Edward recognised his new setting, a vague, faded memory. He was stood in an opening in a forest, pine trees surrounded him, their needles decorating the dry, brown ground at his feet.
It felt so real, but Edward knew it wasn't, the forest didn't smell right. It smelled like plastic.
On the far side of the opening, Edward could see blue sky leading out onto a sheer drop to a flowing river below.
"This is so real," Edward gasped, "I remember it."
"Why thank you," Aphelion said, her voice playing into his ear but feeling like it was inside his head, "it's accurate, then?"
Edward nodded.
"From what I can remember, yeah," Edward replied.
"Good, turn around," Aphelion said.
Edward turned slowly, away from the opening in the trees, finding a group of men and women. Four of them, to be exact, all dressed in formal suits that were the fashion at least three decades ago.
Edward recognised them all, not names for a few, but all of the faces. In his clouded mind, the picture synced up with his own recollection. It was brighter and sharper, and he realised it was most likely more accurate, too.
His old gang stood there, frozen in time, no movement or sound even though they seemed to be deep in conversation.
Then, stood to the left with a concerned look on his face under the brim of a trilby hat, he found himself. Thirty-six years younger, his skin tight and his face youthful.
His sharp jaw was clean shaven and his eyes showed little sign of age at all. He looked good.
"You looked good," Aphelion said.
Edward chuckled.
"Well, thanks," he replied, "I remember this moment. We were waiting to rendezvous with Sergei and... somebody else. Sergei's plant."
Aphelion was silent for a moment, then replied, "Irwin Sneyd?"
Edward nodded, remembering the rat faced little man who had buzzed around Sergei like a fly. Idolised him. Helped him betray them all.
"That was him," Edward said, "Sergei was already fifteen minutes late. I was starting to worry, we couldn't stay there much longer with the loot. Does this thing simulate the conversation?"
"Of course," Aphelion said, "it comes from testimony and speculation, though, so it might not be totally accurate."
The image flickered around him and then the people started to move. He saw his younger self frown.
"I don't like this," the young man said, "Sergei is never late."
Another man stepped forward - John Shelby, an older man with a buzzcut - he had been their muscle.
"Relax, Edward, you get too jumpy," John said.
The image paused and Edward rubbed his chin.
"We should have been more worried," Edward said, "we should have dropped the stash and moved out."
"You didn't know he was screwing you over," Aphelion told him, her voice reassuring but unsure. She obviously wasn't used to consoling people.
Edward agreed with a grunt and the image began to play again.
The people around him milled around the opening. A car was parked up behind a bank and the doors were open, inside there were boxes upon boxes, filled with the haul. A few miles away, Washington was on high alert.
"I'm going to make a call," his younger self said, moving away from the group.
Edward followed himself to the opening in the trees, away from the group, and the image froze.
"Why has it stopped?" Edward asked.
"I can only work with what I have," Aphelion replied, "everybody that gave testimony knows that you went and made a call, but you never said who it was to. Even technology like this has its limitations."
Edward scratched his head and sighed.
"At first I tried to contact Sergei again," Edward said, the video played again, showing him take an old mobile phone out of his pocket, an antique by modern standards, "when there was no answer, I tried somebody else."
Edward watched himself have a silent conversation into the phone.
"Who?" Aphelion asked.
Edward remembered blonde hair and blue eyes, a perfect beauty. A smile that still made him feel warm.
"Natalya Marlowe," Edward replied, "she was my... we had a thing."
"Marlowe?" Aphelion asked.
"I called her to tell her that something wasn't right," he said, "when I realised what was happening, I told her to get herself somewhere safe. To run."
Aphelion was silent and Edward knew why, she recognised the name.
"Natalya Marlowe?" Aphelion repeated, "she testified against you, at the trial."
Edward nodded slowly.
"She did," he said.
The two of them said nothing for a while as Edward watched himself speak quietly into the phone. He couldn't remember the conversation, he could barely even remember the sound of her voice.
"You don't have to watch the rest of this, you know," Aphelion told him.
"No," Edward said, "I need to see it again."
Aphelion didn't argue, and the image continued to play. Edward stood in the middle of the opening, between himself and his old team, realising that he was about to see the moment his entire life changed once more.
The image flickered and immediately changed from calm to erratic danger.
From the other end of the opening, a group of men in thick SWAT armour, wielding terrifying rifles, stormed into view.
The gang scarpered, their movements probably not exact but close enough. John Shelby's reaction was exactly the way Edward remembered, however.
The big man charged the SWAT team, refusing to go down quietly. They shot him centre-mass and he dropped like a stone. Edward hoped seeing it again would help him figure out why the man hadn't just allowed himself to be arrested, but it didn't.
The SWAT team set to work apprehending the rest of the group, who were trapped in the opening like battery hens.
Edward saw himself drop the phone into the dirt and run, his formal jacket fluttering behind him as the SWAT officers gave chase.
He watched himself run out onto the riverbank, following him in his own slow, careful manner.
In truth, the camera followed his younger self anyway, Edward was simply pulled behind as though he was a floating camera, a bubble above it all.
He found himself further down the riverbank, on his hands and knees, his trousers ruined by the mud and his hands black.
"What are you burying?" Aphelion asked, intrigued.
Edward couldn't help but smile to himself.
"My watch," Edward told her, glancing down at the scuffed old watch on his thin wrist, "I didn't want them to get it, I was going to bury it and tell Natalya where it was later on. Glad I didn't manage to before..."
Before he could finish the sentence, the SWAT officers appeared and one of them slammed the butt of their rifle into the back of his head, dropping him to the mud.
Edward saw himself grab the watch and clutch it close as they dragged him to his feet, brown mud all down his front. He could remember the hate he felt, the anger mixed with the fear.
Even then, because he wasn't there in the mud with them, Edward had known that Sergei Castells had betrayed them all. That was when the seed had been planted, not during the trial, when Sergei had lied and turned friends against him, not when he'd been shown his cell or been forcibly searched by a prison officer, right at that moment.
"That's it," Aphelion said, "unless you want me to show you the trial?"
Edward shook his head, "no, I'm done, this was enough."
The screen went black and Edward pulled his hands from the pockets they were in, pulling the headset away from his eyes and blinking in the light.
He sat up and met Aphelion's eyes across the room.
"Thank you," Edward said, "I don't understand why I needed to see that, but I did."
Aphelion nodded and smiled.
"Don't worry," she said, "I get it. I'm glad I could help."
They shared a warm smile for a minute as she shut down the screens around her.
Edward was about to leave the room when Harry Cain appeared at the door.
"Edward," the big man said, "got a minute?"
Aphelion glanced at Edward awkwardly and then jumped up from her seat, leaving the two men alone. Edward found himself preferring his previous company.
"Need something?" Edward asked, pulling on his shoes and getting to his feet. Even standing straight, Harry was still several inches taller than him, and built much more heavily. He was also the type to use his weight advantage to threaten, Edward made a note to keep an eye on that.
"Yeah," Harry said, "just checking you're ready for tomorrow. You've been out of the game a long time."
He obviously wasn't concerned about how Edward was feeling, he was concerned that he was going to screw things up.
"I'm ready," Edward replied, "I want this to go as smoothly as you do."
Harry stepped forward, accentuating his height.
"I get that Artem thinks you're great," Harry rumbled, "you're a folk hero and all that shit. I might not be that to him, but I've raised that kid since he was five years old. I saw him scrape his arm trying to free-run across garden sheds.
"I stopped him almost blowing himself up trying to break into the pantry when he was eight. All his life, I've protected him. That's what I promised to do."
Edward kept his face as blank as possible, so as not to give anything away.
"I taught him how to be what I am, and I know that isn't safe, but I tried to make the distinction between letting him live his life and helping him do it safely, so that is what I'm doing now.
"You came out of the blue with this crackpot idea and he took to it like a fly to honey because it's a challenge, it's what that kid lives for," Harry continued, refusing to look away, "and I agreed to it so that I could make sure he was safe."
The big man kept his cards close to his chest, Edward knew, and right now he was showing his hand, and all Edward could do was freeze up.
"What you want to do, it would be ballsy for any other thief, but more so for you, right?" Harry said, lifting his meaty right hand and thrusting a finger at Edward's chest, "I knew you had a history with Castells, everybody knows, and when you first turned up I thought I'd have to worry about this whole thing being a revenge kick.
"Castells ruined you, right? Seems fair that you'd want payback, and I was sure that would be the thing I would have to watch for. Blind vengeance putting us all in danger."
Harry stepped back for a moment and circled Edward, like a shark. At first Edward thought he had relented, but quickly realised it was a power-play. Harry was showing him that he owned the room.
"But I've been watching you these past few weeks, the way you stare off into space - the way it takes three calls of your name to get you to turn around, the way you forget where you are when you walk into a room," Harry said, "and I don't care what your problem is.
"If you're losing your damn marbles, then lose them somewhere else. If you're a danger to the success of this job, then you stay the fuck out of it, because I promise you..."
Suddenly, Harry was on him again, his grizzled and unshaven face just inches away.
"If you do anything to put Artem in danger, even if it is revenge or because you forget where you are, and he takes the bullet," a single, sharp intake of breath, "whether or not you come crashing down with us, I swear, I will make you pay with your life."
Edward faced him off, even though he was much less capable of doing so than he would have been in his prime.
As much as he wanted to, he couldn't hate Harry. The man was just protecting what he loved.
"I lost half of my life to betrayal, Harry," Edward said, "I won't let that happen to Artem. I swear it."
Harry looked deep into him for a moment, blood-shot eyes and a twitching upper lip.
"Fair enough," the man growled, turning around and leaving the room with a swift stride.
Edward exhaled quietly and leaned against the simulation chamber for a moment. He would keep Artem safe, not because Harry Cain had threatened him, but because he wouldn't allow time to repeat itself with another victim.
Edward told himself this again and again for the rest of the night, until he lay awake several hours later, realising he couldn't remember a single word Harry Cain had said to him.