Chapter 9
Jack held his tongue as Saskia drove directly from downtown Helsinki to the garage north of Toukola. Clive wanted them to run through the plan this afternoon. He could feel Saskia’s tension and see it in her tight knuckles that wrapped the steering wheel. She’d been thrown in that office. And more than physically. He hadn’t heard the scuffle start, and it was a good thing the other thug had opened the door to look inside. How such a struggle had begun was beyond him, but he was thankful he’d gotten to her before she’d been hurt.
She’d said something about poison? What was that about?
It was for a side job. Yes, he distinctly remembered her saying that, and then telling him no more details.
What Jack most wanted to do right now was wrap her into his arms and kiss her. Tell her she was all right. They’d gotten out of there alive. But would the client send thugs after them? Saskia had lost her wig. They had an ID on both of them. Unless the one man really did die from the poison.
What the hell was she involved in?
It shouldn’t matter. He had a job and that was his focus. Whatever happened on the side… Bloody hell, he had to take note of it because he wasn’t sure where the heist ended and the poison thing started. If it were key to this investigation he’d better stay on top of things.
The car pulled up to the garage and before Saskia could twist off the ignition, Jack put a hand over hers. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Hell, yes. You think I am not up to a little rassling with a skinny Finnish man in a bespoke suit?”
“I think you can take care of yourself just fine. Suit or no suit. It’s the poison I’m wondering about.”
“I said no details, Jack.”
“I’m cool with that. But I do think I have a right to know one thing. Was it airborne?”
“No, it has to touch the skin to enter the bloodstream. Though, I didn’t inhale too deeply anyway. One never knows with such a volatile substance. I don’t think I got any on me. At least, I’m not feeling any burning. That would be an indicator.”
“You need to take a shower and wash off. Just to be safe.”
“I’m fine, Jack. If it had contacted my skin we’d both know it because I’d either be dead right now or my screams would break your eardrums.”
He’d heard the man’s screams as they’d fled the building. “What’s going to happen to the guy we left behind?”
She shrugged and turned off the ignition. “Not my problem. He was an asshole.” And with that, she got out and strode inside, leaving him to sit there.
“It becomes everyone’s problem if he comes looking for us,” Jack muttered.
He considered calling this incident in to the ECU. They could look into the aftereffects of their visit, report whether the client was currently dead or alive, and possibly feed Jack related contacts.
He pulled out his cell phone and texted to Kierce Quinn, the tech operator in Paris, the building name, floor, and a brief overview of the events that had gone on. He ended with a request for an update on the client’s condition, and all related ties to Clive Hendrix and Saskia Petrovik. Quinn texted back that he was on it.
Shoving the phone in his suit coat pocket, Jack opened the car door, braced himself against the cold, because he’d not worn an overcoat, and rushed inside the warm building.
Three hours later, the team had rehearsed the entrance through the drilled hole, the walk down the hallway avoiding cameras, and estimated safe cracking times until they had narrowed it to a dozen or so minutes. The target was the main vault on the ground level floor, but as well, the safe deposit vault in the basement. Saskia would man the main vault while Clive worked the one below. The first one to gain entry would be their target.
It was a weird setup, but Jack decided maybe the man didn’t have a goal. They’d open what they could and take whatever was available.
He didn’t like it. Then again, he had no voice to argue. And he wouldn’t. Observing was working so far. Maybe this operation was much more amateur than previously thought. Had the first job netted them nothing because of ill-planning?
On the other hand, Saskia had said she’d gotten paid. Something had to have been taken to cover the crew’s paychecks. There was only one way to find out. Keep his mouth shut and his eyes and ears open.
The sky was dark when, satisfied they were ready for the job, the crew stepped outside. Yet Clive called Jack back inside. He was thankful to return to the warmth.
“What’s up?” Jack asked.
“You got a vehicle lined up for Saturday?”
“I, uh…” Yeah, that was his job. Normally, he’d be more on the ball. But they still had one more day. “What kind do you want?”
“A van. Something to haul that drill. White.”
“White?”
“I’ve noticed all the local work vans are white.”
Jack made a thinking noise. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to stand out so much. On the other hand, if he drove it a bit, dirtied it up, he’d blend well with the snowy landscape and, apparently, the rest of the work vans. “I’ll look into it. We burning it after?”
“That or crushing it.”
“Got it. I’ll look into the local junkyards. Anything else?”
“Should there be?” Clive asked.
Yes, there bloody should be, Jack thought. Like more detail on exactly what they intended to walk out of the bank with. “Nope. All’s good.” He walked out and Saskia drove the rental up to meet him not five feet from the garage door.
Behind him, Clive called to them, “Meet you all at the House Autuuden!”
“The Autuuden? Now what?” Jack asked as he buckled up and Saskia drove the car west toward the main road.
“Means House of Bliss. A hot tub and sauna resort. Clive is big on group bonding before the heist,” she said. “Last one we all went to a zen bar and drank sake and meditated.”
“Doesn’t sound like a party to me.”
“Outdoor hot tubs and beer? Should be a better time than humming ‘om’ and ringing stupid bells.”
“Sounds…relaxing. But I don’t have my trunks along.”
“Don’t need ’em.” She winked as she picked up speed. “When in Finland we go skyclad, buddy. You up for that?”
“Sure.” Maybe. Not really.
With Saskia naked right next to him? What the bloody kind of sexual torture was he walking into?
* * * *
A man shouldn’t parade his naked bits around unless there was a woman in the room intent on also displaying her naked bits. Just the man and the woman. No one else. Not a locker room filled with men in all ages, sizes and—ahem, physical attributes. Nor in a frigid land, surrounded by foreigners who didn’t seem to give a fig about the other guy’s junk.
But still.
The journey from locker room to the wooden walk outside that stretched around a circle of hot tubs was perilous. Jack held the thick white towel about his waist and strolled with as much casual disinterest as he could manage as he passed elderly folk, youngsters, and all kinds that were headed to or from the square tubs positioned around a huge bonfire. Before the others arrived, he slipped into the tub with a subtle removal of towel that hadn’t revealed anything he didn’t want exposed to the chill air.
He wasn’t ashamed of his big Irish bull. It was a fine specimen. According to more than many. But his mother would slap him into the next country should she learn he’d been parading about with it slapping left and right for all eyes to see.
Niles was next. Jack averted his eyes. And Clive and Saskia strolled up a few minutes later, chatting. Clive tossed aside his towel and Jack got an eyeful. He could be thankful the man stood across the hot tub from him because—that would have been eye level and—just no.
Where was the waitress who was supposed to deliver drinks?
Saskia displayed no shame as she slipped into the waters and settled about an arm’s length away from him. Ah hell, he wasn’t comfortable with anyone in this situation. He was naked. He had no weapons at hand. And the woman who drove him bonkers to fuck was sitting so close, and the water sloshed the tops of her breasts as she laughed and conversed.
And he had a boner, damn it all to bloody hell.
A waitress stopped by with beers for all. Just in the nick of time. Saskia suggested he try the ice beer, and much as he wanted nothing at all to do with more ice, he gave the pale lager a shot. Good stuff. A bit dry, and a little on the champagney side. Interesting. As he sipped, he relaxed, and settled shoulder-deep into the comforting bubbles.
“You got the hose and auxiliary supplies, Niles?” Saskia asked after a couple swallows of beer. She set the bottle on the wood planks behind her head.
“No shop talk,” Clive said. “Especially not here.” He eyed Saskia admonishingly.
Niles nodded in answer to her question, then tipped his beer bottle against Jack’s. “Cheers, right mate? Isn’t that what they say in jolly ole England?”
“Something like that. But I thought you were from England. You sound British to me. Where you from?” Jack asked.
“Nigeria. Me mum was born in Sussex and I guess I sound a lot like her.”
“Never been that far down in England,” Jack provided. “Funny, eh? Lived there most of my life and never got that far.”
“But you’re an Irishman,” Niles said.
“That I am.”
“And Italian,” Saskia tossed in, tapping the rim of the beer bottle against her lips. “A fighter and a lover, eh?” She smiled at Jack and he beamed at her.
And then he realized his reaction to her was being witnessed by everyone. Clive’s brow rose and he tilted his bottle toward Jack in a silent approval. And Niles nodded, smiling to himself.
“So we’ve established that our muscle man is also a lover,” Clive said. “Don’t worry, Niles. You still win the title of Mr. Charm.”
Niles nodded.
Clive looked to Saskia. “What of our lovely chameleon?”
Saskia sank down in the tub, floating her fingers on the surface. “Just that. A master of disguise. Not much more than that.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Niles offered. “Do you know how many times you’ve gotten the jig on me because I didn’t recognize you?”
Saskia laughed. “A lot.” And again she flashed Jack that secretive—but not so secret—smile in the present company.
Yeah, she’d gotten the jig on him plenty.
“Okay, let’s try this. If you had half a million dollars,” Saskia said, putting it out to all of them, “what would you do with it?”
Clive set his empty bottle behind him. “Vacation in Belize for a month.”
“Is that the going rate for a Belize vacation?” Saskia asked. She shook her head in disbelief. “Spendy.”
“But worth it. Especially when they toss in the private yacht.” Clive winked. “What about you, Niles?”
“A man might pay off his mother’s mortgage then buy himself a real nice sports car. Orange.”
“Orange?” Jack frowned. “You want the whole bloody world to notice you?”
“Hell, yes! That’s the only reason for having a sports car, isn’t it?”
“What would your wife say about that?” Saskia asked.
“Aw, she’d love it. She’d tie a scarf about her hair like those fancy dames from the old movies and put on a big pair of sunglasses and blow kisses to all the old men as we cruised by.” Niles’s laughter was infectious and the whole group joined him.
Jack felt a toe nudge his leg and slide up the back of his calf. He was just thankful it was obviously from Saskia’s direction.
“What about you, Gentleman Jack?” she asked.
He shrugged. “A man might set it aside for emergencies. Family. You know.”
“Family,” she repeated, and her eyes narrowed. She was thinking too hard about him right now, and he wasn’t sure he was comfortable with that.
Jack raised his arm and rallied the waitress back for another round. But for the next two rounds Saskia’s gaze held that same preening wonder that seemed to crack open his heart and peer inside. It was discomforting, but at the same time, he kind of liked having her so interested in him.
* * * *
It was midnight by the time they returned to the flat, but Jack didn’t feel like sleeping. Not yet. He stood looking out the windows across the cityscape, thinking the sky looked a little…green.
Saskia wandered into the room, grabbed the blanket from the sofa, and wrapped it about her shoulders. Now that her hair had dried Jack noticed it was distinctly not black.
“Another disguise?”
“Blond is my natural color. But I dyed it a few weeks back. Temporary color. It’s slowly fading.”
“You and the sky are very colorful tonight.”
“The sky? Ah. The Aurora Borealis. It was faint out by the House of Bliss. Come on.”
“What?”
“Put on a jacket. I’m going to show you something that will blow your mind.”
Having his mind blown sounded like an interesting activity, so Jack pulled on his coat and followed Saskia as she slipped on her pack boots, then wandered down the building hallway, blanket still wrapped about her shoulders. At the end of the long hall, she opened the roof access door.
“They’re not as bright here in the city.” She took the stairs upward. “But you can still see them. When I was out at the garage a few nights ago right before you arrived, they were amazing. And tonight is clear and cold, so it’s no surprise you can see them.”
She kicked open the metal door and wandered out onto the roof. And Jack shivered, wondering about the woman’s fortitude for not even wearing a jacket in what must be pushing below zero temperatures.
With thoughts of hot bubbling water caressing his skin, Jack joined her side at the edge of the roof, facing north. Vivid green lights wavered in the sky at a distance he couldn’t measure. Ribbons of light performed a stunning dance for him.
“It’s like fire dancing in the sky,” Saskia said. “Pretty cool, eh?”
“I’ve never seen anything like it.”
The greens were almost fluorescent and those were edged with gold. A flash of red every-so-often, and then a wash of angel white. God must be practicing his painting skills tonight, he thought.
Jack felt Saskia lean against his arm and tugged her closer. “You should have a coat on.”
“This blanket is good. But you are hot. I think the hot tub gave you a fever. If not a hard-on.”
Christ. She’d noticed? He didn’t want to discuss it. On the other hand…
She leaned in closer, tilting her head against his shoulder. “I’m going to steal some of your body heat, if you don’t mind.”
“Let’s do this.” He stepped behind her and hugged her tightly, casting his gaze to the light show in the sky.
It was at once as if a tornado and then an orchestrated light show that might have been painted by a drug-crazed artist. Yet the ribbons flowed and danced and smoked as if fire. And on occasion a flicker of red and orange flittered in with the emerald. And all of it was punctuated by the white stars dotting the black background.
“That’s us, you know,” she said.
“Huh?”
“Those stars. We are made of whatever makes up those stars.”
It was a weird analogy but Jack could go with it. He liked it much better than blood, guts, and bones.
“Some scientist said it. Carl Sagan? Maybe,” she said. “We are all made of star stuff. My whole body is a conglomeration of all that stuff up there in the heavens, millions and billions of light years away. Isn’t that cool?”
“The stars look very different today,” he sang, quoting Bowie.
Bowing his head, Jack nuzzled his face into her hair, wishing he could smell the warmth of the skin behind her ear. He didn’t notice the cold so much when holding her. Was he holding a star in his arms? Bloody cool.
“Did you know that the Eskimos have something like forty different names for snow?” she asked.
“Uh…no?”
“They do. It’s crazy. I read about it somewhere.”
“You seem to have a lot of odd facts in here.” He kissed the crown of her head. “What is it I’ve heard about the way the Eskimos kiss?”
Saskia turned around in his embrace and nuzzled her freakishly cold nose against his. “Like that, I think.”
“Yeah, that’s it. Your nose is a popsicle.”
“Then warm me up.”
She kissed him. He wasn’t about to argue the benefits of sharing body heat. That was his story. At least, for now.
She pulled him down to keep him close and he didn’t mind that either. Her kiss was hot and needy. She knew what she wanted and he gave it to her. Sweeter, more honest, for some reason that really fucked with his most immediate need of simply getting as much from her as he could. Heat, skin, tongue. Yeah, this was a bit of all right.
“We should go inside,” he murmured against her mouth.
“And continue what we’re doing?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
He lifted her into his arms and with one last look to the dancing sky, carried her down and into the warmth of the apartment that he could only appreciate now that he been out freezing his arse off on the roof.