Leo ran his finger along the edge of the table. “I had a chance to look at the blood samples.”
“Without my say, you can add.”
“You were exposed to a cocktail of… It doesn’t matter. I’d be negligent if I didn’t at least check its effects.”
“Yeah, you couldn’t sleep for days worrying about me.”
He leaned back. “I’m concerned. The samples had some intriguing results. Some follow-up tests would be prudent.”
“More blood?”
“I have all the equipment I need in—”
“You can forget about it. Not another drop.”
“We can do other tests if you have a fear of needles.”
“I have a fear of you.”
“Me?” he asked, squinting at her. “I can’t stress enough the potential danger you face.”
“Like what?”
“I’d have to do more tests.”
“More bullshit.”
Leo leaned forward as if he had a secret. “The nature of the research forces me to be circumspect.”
“You can be as circumspect as you want, but I’m not going to be running through any of your mazes.”
“It’s not that way at all. They’re just standard medical tests.”
Forget it.
Jonathan shuffled to the table, sipping a new cup of coffee like a normal person. “So it’s all hashed out?”
Cindy stood by the table with the girls, watching Jonathan. One of the girls said something to her, and they all laughed.
“It’s a minimum-security research facility uptown,” Leo said as though he had to be goaded into speaking. “The gene editor is about half the height and width of this table.”
Sammy leaned back to get a better view of the table. The machine would be too big to hide, so she’d have to steal it after hours as she’d done with the heater. She’d do her own checking and not take Leo’s word on the security setup.
Jonathan put the cup on the table. “You’re all set? You know what you have to do?”
“Not so fast, Johnny. There is a little thing called ‘getting paid.’ I know it’s something that never gets mentioned around you.”
Jonathan rolled his eyes, peering down at her with a dead-fish look. “How much do you want for the job?”
“I usually get ten percent unless it’s cheap—then I get more. How much does one of these editors cost?”
“New, this gene editor’s price was about a hundred thousand. Being that it’s an older model, I’d estimate a cost of fifty thousand.”
Sammy grinned, liking those numbers. “Five thousand, Johnny.”
“You have to be kidding me?” Jonathan said, looking from her to Leo.
Leo turned to Jonathan. “Think of it as how much you’ll be saving.”
“And I want collateral too, not that I don’t trust you, Johnny,” Sammy said. “Oh, that’s right, I don’t.”
Jonathan rocked side to side, wearing a goofy grin. “Collateral for a thief?”
“The gene editor should be adequate collateral,” Leo said.
“Yeah, it’s all yours if the genius flops on the psychedelics.” Jonathan drained the rest of the coffee. “This better be it. I don’t want to hear anything about needing another machine.”
Leo puckered his lips. “The gene editor is the final piece.”
“It better be.” Jonathan stood and marched to the back.
“Want to come by my office and we’ll go over the details? I can answer any questions you may have.”
“I just need three things from you: the address of the place, the make and model of the machine, and where in the building it is.”
“Okay,” he said mid-rise. “Follow me.”
Sammy leaned back. “I’ll wait here for it.”
Cindy sat at the table, overflowing with girls crowded around, eight or nine of them now, some standing and some sitting. Must be nice to not have to worry about being a freak.
Chapter Thirty
_____________________________
Sammy sat in the transporter on the way to the Bushwick and Halsey Research Facility. She pulled down the mirror to check on the blonde wig used on the first trip to Xanadu. Cindy had added highlights, lowlights, blush, gloss, and a few other things Sammy couldn’t remember. She tugged on the gray business jacket with the matching skirt she’d stolen at a clothing store with a bot assistant. All she needed was the pearl necklace, and she could be indignant about anything.
She’d gone through the back of the place yesterday, only to be stopped by a guy with a tablet who told her she couldn’t be there. She did notice a portable hoist and an elevator, which might come in handy.
“We’ll have to make arrangements to move the editor since it’ll be too heavy for us to carry,” Leo said it as though it were a foregone conclusion he was coming.
“How did you suddenly invite yourself to the party?”
“You’ll need me to disconnect it.”
“You tell me how, and I’ll do it.”
“There is more to it than just disconnecting cables.”
“Okay, tell me what else I have to do.”
“They may be running an overnight sequencing that has to be shut down properly. Some units have a separate interface that complicates the disconnection.” He rattled out a couple of other things she couldn’t remember. “Should I go on?”
“I’m hating this job already.”
“The facility will be empty at night. My presence will add little additional risk.”
“Says you.”
“Then perform your due diligence.”
Sammy swung open the door as the transporter pulled up to the curb. “Yeah, that’s what I’m doing here. Due diligence.”
She wore low heels but still rolled her ankle every few steps. The guard in front hadn’t let her enter yesterday, but he let the girl behind her go in. She’d had a nice dress and makeup, so Sammy came back looking the part, and the guard let her in with a smile and a nod. Uncle Danny used to always say, “You can’t play the game unless you know the rules.”
The lady in front smiled and gave her a tablet. She flipped through the application, having the sudden urge to bark like a seal. Some games weren’t worth playing. She giggled, drawing stick figures on the page. The tablet kept flashing, “Unrecognizable character.” The lady glanced at her. Sammy cleared her throat, then stared down, looking all serious.
A girl in her early twenties stopped by the front desk. She had her ID badge strapped to her hip.
Sammy brushed by the girl and swiped her badge. “Excuse me. I need to use the bathroom.”
“The restrooms are back around and against the wall.”
Sammy walked toward the back, then turned left to a set of stairs. The research part was on the second floor in a glass-enclosed section. The offices ran along the wall, and the glass enclosure was plopped down in the center with biohazard warning insignias etched in the glass.
She gave the glass a tap, and by the sound of it, it was thick and probably unbreakable. The door had a keyhole on the knob. Was this a simple pick job? Sammy slid the card into the reader and was buzzed in. She scooted through an opened door and strutted to the back to another glass enclosure. Three people sat along the long table. They were covered up enough so she couldn’t tell who or what they were. The machine was at the far end, but it looked longer and taller. They’d definitely need a hoist for that. How would they get it to the skin joint? A transporter wouldn’t hold something like that.
Sammy strolled to the door also with a keyhole. Another door was behind it about six feet away, giving it the appearance of a glass-enclosed vestibule.
“Can I help you?” It was a tall guy in a white lab coat, looking all important.
Sammy smiled, figuring she was dolled up enough to get a more sympathetic response.
He didn’t even blink.
“I’m looking for…” The tablet screen was blank, and he could see it too. She tapped the side of the
tablet. “Been having trouble all day with this thing.”
“Who do you work for?”
Sammy banged a few more times for good measure. “You know, I better go down and get this fixed.” Sammy flashed him a smile.
His brows creased and his gaze tracked her as she walked away.
He could be a statue. Maybe she should let in a flock of pigeons.
The girl she’d swiped the badge from was scouring the floor. “I can’t find it, Lois.”
Sammy flung the badge back.
Lois stood, leaning over the desk, joining in on the search.
Sammy rested the tablet on the lady’s desk. “Lose something?”
Lois nodded. “Her badge.”
Sammy looked back to where she’d tossed it. The badge was wedged between a divider and the floor. “Is that it?”
The girl dashed off to where Sammy pointed.
“Are you finished with the application?” Lois asked.
“I forgot my references. Can you believe that?”
The girl clipped the badge onto her blouse. “Don’t know how it got there.”
“I’ll be back tomorrow.” Sammy sashayed out, tripping on the door threshold. Damn shoes.
The guard nodded to her again. “Have a good night now.”
She put her hand on the alarm box and took off a shoe. “New shoes,” she said, rubbing her toes.
“Don’t know how you can walk in those things.”
The box was high up, and she would need a stepladder to get at the top cover screws. “I wonder that myself at times.”
He chuckled, watching her rub her toes.
Sammy slipped her foot back into the shoe, making a note of the alarm’s brand and model number. She waved and tried not to fall on her way out. She sat on a bus-stop bench across the street from the place. She’d watch the building as it closed, making sure the guard left.
There were four locks to pick and one alarm. The alarm was a hair more complicated than the hardware store’s. She’d bring enough jumper wires this time. Roll the hoist up into the elevator, pick a few locks, attach the machine to the hoist, and roll it back out to the elevator. It seemed too simple, although she still needed a way to get the gene editor to the skin joint.
Workers trickled out of the building one and two at a time at first, then in bunches. Most piled into transporters lining up at the curb. A few walked and a few more waited with her at the bus stop. One was the girl she’d swiped the badge from. Sammy glanced at her to see if she’d noticed her, but she was focused on her phone, poking and swiping at it. She seemed like the type where life was always a few steps ahead of her.
The bus stop was crowded by the time the bus pulled in, blocking her view of the building. Damn. She waded through the throng. She thought she spotted someone coming out of the building. Was it the guard? The bus pulled away. It was the tall guy who didn’t blink. He stood immovable as if he were practicing to be a statue. Maybe he was a closet street mime. He finally moved when a transporter pulled up.
She’d wait a little while longer for the guard to come out. She could always bang on the door and say she lost something like a ring and find out how long he’d be there. Someone came to the door. A car pulled up to the bus stop as Sammy kept her eye on the door.
“Hey, sugar, what’ve you been up to?”
Golden Boy was looking up at her from the backseat. It looked like the other car but this one was a bluish gray.
“Do you like it? I had it repainted after replacing the back window.”
Sammy looked back at the building. Whoever was there had left.
“We found the bullet. Where was it again?” Golden Boy asked, leaning forward.
If he messes up this job, I’ll kill him.
He flicked his wrist. “I’m looking for a place to display it. ‘Oh that,’ I’ll say. ‘That’s the bullet that almost killed me.’” He leaned back, looking almost giddy. “The stories I’ll be able to tell… And they’ll only get better.”
Sammy huffed, wishing he'd stop talking.
Golden Boy didn’t seem to notice. “I’ll have to have you over, and you can tell me what you think. Tell me what story you like best. I’ll be the hero of course. What’s the fun in telling a story if you’re not the hero?”
Sammy scowled. “What are you doing here?”
“Sugar, you’re not still mad about that phone, are you?”
“How did you find me?”
“That’s all Tatiana’s doing. That girl is a bloodhound when it comes to finding excitement.”
Sammy looked at the car’s front window, but it was dark and still rolled up.
“Not that you look anything like a bloodhound, girl. They are the ugliest dogs in creation.”
The guard walked out through the back. Sammy ducked down behind the car. The guard was coming her way. Damn. Was he taking the bus?
The front window rolled down. Tatiana leaned into view. “Want to get in, little bird?”
“Yeah, tweet tweet,” Sammy said, hopping into the front seat.
Tatiana grinned, squealing the tires.
Golden Boy leaned over the front seat. “Aren’t getaways so exciting?”
Sammy glanced back at him. “Did you pee on yourself?”
He laughed, patting her shoulder. “What’d you steal?”
“Nothing.”
“She was only casing the place. Right, little bird?”
“What are you going to steal? Diamonds? I just love diamonds.”
“You can let me out over here,” Sammy said, pointing to the curb.
“Relax, little bird.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“I don’t get another tweet, tweet?”
Sammy sneered at her.
Tatiana laughed. “We’ll take you to your nest.”
It might be smart to find another place.
“When is the caper?” Golden Boy asked. “I’ll wear all black. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to wear when you steal diamonds?”
Tatiana smirked. “She’s not stealing diamonds.”
“If it’s not diamonds, it has to be gold.”
Sammy sighed. His breath on the back of her neck was annoying.
“Gold bars. Is that it?” He shook his head. “You can break your back carrying those things.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t want to be carrying all that gold.”
Tatiana glanced over at her, grinning. Golden Boy stewed, looking as if he were sucking on a lemon.
The car pulled up to the curb just outside the apartment. Sammy swung open the door. “Thanks and tweet, tweet. Happy now?”
Tatiana smiled. “Ever think of getting a better wig?”
Golden Boy leaned over the back of the front seat. “So what are you stealing? I’m dying of suspense.”
Sammy slammed the door. She might have to forget about stealing that machine if the kooks knew about it.
Tatiana slipped out of the front seat and waltzed up to her. “I know what you’re after, little bird.”
“Yeah? Then tell him so he won’t die of suspense.”
She smiled, brushing her fingers along the side of Sammy’s neck. “I’m here to help.”
“Don’t need your help.”
“You have a transportation problem, and I have a solution.” She waved toward the car’s trunk.
Would the editor fit in the trunk? No, not a good idea. In fact, a terrible idea. “I’ll get my own transportation.”
“Are you going to rent a truck transporter?”
Sammy hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Maybe.”
“All routes are logged. The police will have you locked up within the day,” Tatiana said, shifting Sammy’s wig. “I couldn’t let that happen to my little bird.”
“I’ll find another way, then.”
“Jonathan has a noose around his neck, and it’s tightening by the hour.”
Was she working for him? “Why do you care about him?”
“I’m an interested
bystander in this little match, waiting for the right time to get into the game.”
“What match? What are you talking about?”
“In due time, little bird,” she said, walking back to the driver’s side. “I’ll pick you up in three hours. We don’t want poor Jonathan to asphyxiate.”
Chapter Thirty-One
______________________________
Sammy sat sandwiched between Golden Boy and Leo in the back seat of the car as Tatiana raced through the streets, squealing tires around the turns.
Leo held on, muttering she was going to get them killed. He thought it was a mistake involving them, but what choice did she have?
“Do you think we’ll be shot at again?” Golden Boy asked. “I’ll have a matching pair of death-defying bullets.”
Leo looked over, shaking his head.
Golden Boy was dressed in black. He even had a matching mask but left it off for now. “So here’s my first story,” he said, laying his hand on her arm. “Tell me what you think.”
“Story?”
“It’s no fun if I have to keep repeating myself, sugar.”
Sammy peered out the front window. Tatiana slowed down a bit. They were in the general area of Bushwick and Halsey Research.
Golden Boy tugged on her arm. “I rescue the princess from a burning building. You’re the princess from one of those small countries you can’t pronounce. How do you like it so far?”
Sammy grinned. “Do I get a court jester?”
“Oh, I like that. It adds a little levity. Who could it be?”
“How about the driver?”
Tatiana smirked, looking back at her through the rearview mirror.
“Can’t be the driver. The driver works for me.” He pointed to Leo. “How about him?”
Leo groaned.
Sammy shook her head. “He’s too serious.”
“He can look serious but say funny things.” Golden Boy pitched forward, studying Leo. “Say something funny.”
Leo turned to look out the side window.
“What do you call it when you look serious but say funny things?”
Tatiana glanced back. “Deadpan.”
“That’s it. He could be the deadpan jester.”
Leo sighed.
“I carry you from the building. I can carry you because you’re delicate.”
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