Double-Crossed: A Spies and Thieves Story

Chapter Five

TWO HOURS AFTER THE GUNMEN BROKE INTO THE PARTY

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WALKING DOWN THE ABANDONED HALL, Hale went through the list of all they had to do.

"First, we have to find out where they're going and what they want. And keep your eyes peeled,' Hale ordered. "If we find a way of sneaking out some hostages, we should do it. And, Macey,' he said, stopping to catch her full attention, "don't get caught.'

It was good enough advice, but Macey McHenry seemed to have other things on her mind.

"You'd better not be planning on looking up my dress.'

"I won't look up your dress.'

"Because if you look up my dress, I will hurt you.'

"Yeah.' Hale laughed a little. "You can try and—'

But before Hale could finish Macey spun, knocking him against the wall. She had her fingers around his neck and his head poised to snap. It was all he could do to choke out the words "I won't look up your dress.'

"Good boy,' she said, and let him go.

Without another word, the two of them eased down the narrow hallway that ran along the back side of the ballroom. Carts of food sat, abandoned. Bucketsful of ice were melting.

It felt to Hale like they were walking through a ghost town. And Hale couldn't help himself—he worried. The whole job felt wrong. Too overt. Too obvious. Too physical and dangerous and risky. Whatever it was that had brought the men in the masks there, he didn't like it.

"What are you thinking?" Macey tilted her head and stud­ied him.

"It's not a Gab and Grab—they've been here too long and they've gotten too entrenched. They're big and they're organized, but they aren't set up for the Queen of Sheba."

Macey looked at him oddly, so Hale added, "To run that con you need a set of triplets and a goat." Then he shook his head and talked on. "They've got hardware and hostages, and that means..."

"What does it mean, Mr. Bored Billionaire—slash—Amateur Thief Guy ?"

"I don't know. I'm usually the heister--not the heistee. And I don't work this way." He walked a little faster. "You take hostages at abank—someplace with lots of cash and lots of exits. And you only do it after you mess up and don't get out. Seriously, no one in their right mind intends to take hostages. Unless..."

"Unless what?"

“Unless they intend to use them."

The words washed over both of them, neither of them moving. Neither of them spoke until Hale glanced up at the air vent that opened overhead, and held out his hands in the univer­sal signal for let me give you a boost. "Now I promise I won't look up your dress."

Macey wasn't the type of girl to have regrets, but as she crawled through the dirty air vents that ran along the top of the Athenia's highest floor, there were a number of things she would have changed about that particular evening if given the opportunity. First, she would have gone with the black gown in­stead of the red. (In those situations, you really need a dress with straps.) She absolutely would have brought one of the little travel-sized tear gas canisters her roommate Liz had perfected the previ­ous semester. And perhaps most importantly, she would have done more than a little reconnaissance on W. W. Hale V before the eve­ning took its covert turn.

Macey risked a look at the boy behind her. She couldn't shake the feeling that he was at home there, but nervous. Like a veteran athlete who has been asked to play a new position. He seemed a little off his game.