The Gambit

by Allen Longstreet

  I heard heavy pairs of footsteps coming up the loft.

  “Ah, hell! Can you two get a room?” Vinny’s deep, Hispanic accent was unmistakable. The footsteps that followed must have been Luke’s.

  “We will have one tonight,” Rachel teased them. “We are just watching a movie.”

  “Yeah, okay. It’s pretty warm in here for a blanket…”

  “You’re crazy, cous. I just like being cozy.”

  I glanced over and saw him rolling his eyes.

  “Guess who is back?” Luke asked, and Rachel and I shuffled sideways so we could see the rest of the loft. Two more sets of footsteps sounded from inside the stairwell, and then a moment later I saw…Briana? Was that even her?

  “Oh my God, Bri!” Rachel shouted in the shrillest tone possible. She sounded like she was back in high school, calling one of her friends across the dancefloor on prom night. She jumped up so quickly from the couch she almost nailed me in my nads. I had to admit, my jaw dropped from seeing Briana’s transformation.

  Her hair was no longer slicked back into the overly-tight ponytail she always wore it in. Her golden-blonde ringlets were bouncy and fell to her shoulders. Her makeup was done impeccably, and her skin appeared flawless, along with lipstick that went along with her mocha complexion. She wore a black dress, white pearls, and what looked to be some form of diamond-like stud earrings. Her white heels finished off the look of wealth she was portraying.

  She held up her wrist and the silver from the watch gleamed in the fluorescent lights overhead.

  “Michael Kors, baby!” she shouted and laughed as if she had just won the lottery.

  Grey entered a few seconds after, and his face was humble—as it always was.

  “Whoa, dude! Is that you?” I jumped up and roughhoused him a little bit, grabbing his shoulders and looking him up and down. “What kind of suit is this?!” It was perfectly tailored. He looked like I did the night of the debate. He could have passed as a polished politician without a problem.

  “Giorgio Armani…” He mumbled, still reserved, but I couldn’t stop grinning. “Bro! Where did the beard go? It’s all gone!” I stroked the bottom of his chin to mess with him.

  “I know, I know. It’s gone.”

  I stepped back to get a better look at him.

  “This is the real deal. Look at you, with a tie-clip and everything. Genuine stud!”

  He was turning red. “Grey, you better watch out. Briana might come on to you as handsome as you look all dressed up.”

  I heard Briana huff. She made a duckface with quirked eyebrows and her hand on her hip. “He look good,” she began in a dramatic tone, “but he still a white boy.”

  Grey rolled his eyes at all of us analyzing his looks.

  “I’ll take him if you don’t,” I went over and put my arm around him. “You’re crazy,” Grey said. Rachel began outright laughing.

  Briana pursed her lips and shook her head with a drawn-out sigh.

  “White people,” she muttered and turned back to face Vinny and Luke.

  I turned to face Grey. “So why did you get rid of the beard, man?”

  “I had to for the picture Briana put on our licenses. We stopped by her friend’s house. Plus, I need to look clean-cut for what I’m going to do tomorrow at the airport.”

  I nodded. “Which is?”

  “I told you, man. I don’t want to jinx it.”

  “I never remember you being superstitious.”

  “It’s just not worth risking,” he said.

  “Did you say licenses a second ago? What do you mean?”

  Briana must have heard me because she whipped back around and pulled out two New York State driver’s licenses. “We aren’t Briana and Grey anymore…” She handed them both to Rachel. “Say hello to Rose and Gregory Johansen!”

  Luke almost spit out his beer.

  “No fucking way,” Vinny croaked. “You made yourself married? Because there isn’t a chance in Hell you two are brother and sister.”

  We all laughed at his statement, a lot. Grey just stared at his feet.

  “It’s 2016,” she said. “Interracial is all the rage nowadays.”

  We continued laughing hard.

  Rachel shot her a sidelong glance. “Am I reading this right? The city is Westhampton.”

  “You read it right,” Briana affirmed. “Greg here is the heir to a Swedish entrepreneur, and he came to America as a child, and now that his father passed, he has invested money out west in renewable energy. He is a multimillionaire, and I am his beloved wife he met at an outing in New York City.” She walked over and tucked her arm beneath his. He couldn’t help but crack a smile.

  “Gregory,” I chuckled. I couldn’t get over Briana’s creativity. When Rachel handed me their driver’s licenses I was incredibly impressed. Her talent was nothing to scoff at. I was curious to see how my Swedish passport had turned out, but Briana wouldn’t let me see it. She said the chemicals used underneath the laminate were photosensitive, and she didn’t want to risk them spoiling before they had dried.

  “What about the credit card?” I asked.

  “Taken care of,” Grey answered. “Loaded thirty-five thousand onto a prepaid Amex card. They won’t take a second glance at it.”

  “Nice,” I said.

  “Oh,” Briana began. “Here are your prepaid phones we got today.” She threw the simple flip-phone in my lap and did the same to Rachel, Vinny, and Luke. “I already turned them on and put each other’s numbers in there. That way there is no confusion. They all have minutes, except Owen’s.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because you won’t be able to call us from Russia, Bozo.”

  I nodded in understanding.

  “I added all of our numbers to the contacts though, Owen. It’s an international flight, I would think there are phones behind every seat.”

  “Good point.”

  “So,” Rachel said. “When do we leave?”

  We rode in a black Tahoe and had made it onto I-95 South. We were only a few exits shy of Downtown Miami. The skyline was growing larger as we neared it. Vinny and Luke were in the front seats, Briana and Grey in the row behind them, and Rachel and me in the back. We took the exit for Biscayne Boulevard and US-1. Traffic was thick. Rush hour was approaching. A taxi laid on his horn and didn’t let up. The sound blared for fifteen seconds, and the car in front of him honked back and stuck his middle finger out the window. I glanced out of Rachel’s window and saw a red Lamborghini beside us. I imagined my face looked like a child’s would on his first vacation to a new city. Rachel noticed and let out a chuckle.

  “Welcome to Miami,” Rachel said.

  “The city of heat,” Vinny added from the driver’s seat. “Makes our tempers hot, too. Can you tell?”

  “Just a little,” I answered sarcastically.

  On US-1 South, the bay was beside us. Rachel told me it was Biscayne Bay. Palm trees lined the median in the road, and I couldn’t go a minute without hearing a horn being honked. This was the definition of hectic. Ahead on our left I saw a massive bridge.

  “It’s the MacArthur Causeway. That’s how we are going to get to Miami Beach.”

  “Miami Beach is on an island?” I asked.

  “Yes, the whole thing is a barrier island. The home of the famous South Beach.”

  Within minutes, we were going over it and Biscayne Bay was below us. In the rearview I saw the skyline of Downtown Miami getting smaller. Ahead, the buildings weren’t as tall, but the design was different. More whites and pastels—it had a tropical flare to it. The roads in Miami Beach were narrower, and I saw a sign for Collins Avenue. We turned onto it and I saw many boutique hotels, all in Art Deco architecture.

  “Our hotel is a half-mile on the right,” Luke said. “Rachel and Owen, are you ready? They will have valet, so make sure your disguises are okay.”

  The moment he said that Rachel began whipping her hair up into a tight bun and put a Miami Dolphins ball-cap on. She pu
lled out makeup, and I watched her draw on a fake mole where Marilyn Monroe had one. I used the black, blank screen of my flip-phone to see my reflection. My blond goatee was in place and my eyebrows and hair were bleach-blond. I was ready to go.

  We pulled up in the registration and came to a stop. I could already see the bellman standing nearby, ready to approach us. I hadn’t been out in public in days—I was nervous.

  “You ready?” I whispered to Rachel.

  “We got this.”

  Briana opened her door and Grey his. Rachel and I followed him out and were immediately enveloped in the muggy Florida warmth.

  “Welcome to the Setai,” the bellman greeted us in a Bahamian accent.

  I nodded. I didn’t say anything back. There were hundreds of cars in the road behind us, and dozens of people were walking in and out of the hotel. I was in awe of its design. The main building looked like it was straight out of the ancient Aztec. There was a large tower behind it. It had to be close to fifty floors. Vinny handed the valet attendant his keys and Briana strode towards the hotel entrance without hesitation, with Grey by her side. We lingered a good distance behind them. We had planned that because we weren’t dressed at the same caliber as Rose and Gregory were. I almost laughed out loud thinking about their aliases and how they were married.

  With a deep breath, I went through the revolving door and entered the lobby. The refreshingly cool air hit me, and my eyes were overwhelmed. I glanced around, not knowing what to look at first. There were palm trees in clusters of four that jutted out from the black granite marble floors. There were stained wooden beams that went all the way to the ceiling high above. Low to the ground contemporary sectionals formed squares for sitting areas. It was nothing short of luxurious.

  Briana was already at the registration with Grey by her side. She wasn’t waiting on us, she knew the drill. This was her expertise, and she was filling the role just as an actress would. She faked her documents, so she tried to fill the shoes accordingly. I saw a hallway with a sign for the elevators. Not knowing what to do while we waited, I walked over to them. The hallway was extremely long, and I realized we were walking into the tower with the majority of the guestrooms. I had sunglasses on, but as I stared at all the faces, I was just waiting for the moment when someone paused to take a second glance at me.

  I wasn’t just a criminal. I was a criminal who had been on every major news network, newspaper, and magazine. That fact made me feel so exposed. My breath started to shudder, and I tried to relax myself. Rachel’s brow creased when she reached me by the elevator and noticed my distressed state.

  “Chill out, Clyde,” she muttered with a smug smile tugging at her lips.

  “Oh, do we have aliases now?” I chuckled.

  “It just adds to the excitement, don’t you think?”

  I returned her mischievous glare. “You might be right, Bonnie.” I winked.

  The elevator opened and a group of people walked out of it. There was an older couple beside us, and they were glancing over at us peculiarly when we didn’t step in.

  “You go ahead,” the elderly lady offered with an open hand.

  I couldn’t even open my mouth. I tried, but nothing happened.

  “We are waiting on the rest of our family. Thank you, though.”

  Rachel stopped the elevator door from closing and held it open with her arm.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” said the older man’s crackled voice.

  Once they were in and the elevator closed, she shook her head at me with pursed lips. “Are you really that afraid of someone noticing you?”

  I glared at her in bewilderment. “Bonnie, really? Not so loud. Okay? You never know who might be listening.”

  “Look at you,” she wrapped her arm around my waist. “You’re trembling. You look nothing like your old self. Relax.”

  “I was still blond when you recognized me. If you could do it, so can anyone else.”

  She bit her lower lip and stayed quiet. My eyes began to wander. I scanned the high ceilings and the walls by the elevator—cameras.

  There were cameras filming us. I immediately turned my head to the ground.

  “What?” Rachel asked, alarmed from my sudden movement.

  “Cameras,” I said. “Don’t look up.”

  She followed suit and kept her eyes towards the elevator doors. I heard a set of heels hitting the marble. Briana and Grey approached us, with Vinny and Luke trailing.

  “Success,” she said, and held up the black keycard.

  We gathered into the elevator and Briana pressed the button for the 40th floor. The elevator didn’t budge.

  “It says put your key in to access the penthouse,” Grey spoke up.

  She slid in our room key and we pressed the button again. The elevator smoothly accelerated upwards and extremely quickly. A lot quicker than what I was used to back home in my apartment. When the doors opened, my jaw dropped.

  It was gigantic. There were no other words that sufficed. The living room was easily the size of an office space, there was a full kitchen with stainless-steel appliances, and the countertops were the same black granite used on the floor of the lobby.

  Gasps from Briana and Rachel filled the air. Luke and Vinny ran to the glass door that led to the terrace, but I wanted to see the rest of the suite. Rachel and I went through, room by room, and I was keeping count. There were four bedrooms total, each with their own bathroom. I knew when we had reached the master bedroom because the bathroom was the size of its own room. It had two Jacuzzi tubs, and the shower appeared to have holes coming from the ceiling.

  “This is unbelievable,” I mumbled. No matter which room you were in everything was floor-to-ceiling glass.

  “You guys! Get your asses out here!” Vinny’s scream echoed throughout the penthouse. We hurried through the many rooms, and Rachel pulled open the door first. I followed through.

  The terrace was so gargantuan it was dizzying. I could have almost passed out. The view was breathtaking. In the distance was the Miami skyline. The sun was setting, and the MacArthur Causeway glowed in deep purple lights.

  “Look!” Rachel shouted.

  I turned to my left to see an infinity pool. It must have been over fifteen feet long. I walked around the terrace to get a feel for things and saw couches that lined the half-wall balcony. There were also sunbathing chairs in the middle between the couches and infinity pool. The Atlantic Ocean was on our left, and Downtown Miami was on our right.

  “Briana, how much was this a night?”

  “Thirty-two thousand dollars,” she said. “It’s the most expensive room in all of Miami. Four bedrooms, four bathrooms, and a private rooftop terrace. Ten-thousand square feet.”

  “It’s fucking unreal,” Luke said with a laugh as he sat on the couch in the corner.

  She nodded, and her curls bounced around.

  “Not bad for a sending off, right Owen?” she asked.

  “Not bad, I’d say.”

  “It’s time to start the party!” Vinny shouted. “I’m going to the liquor store!”

  “Cheers to a safe flight tomorrow for Owen,” Luke announced, raising his shot glass to meet our own.

  “Cheers!” the glasses clung together as they hit.

  The vodka burned my throat as it slid down, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as my college days drinking cheap liquor. Vinny had bought Grey Goose and other top-shelf brands. We were partying like celebrities do, celebrating in style.

  All for me…

  Maybe a fourth shot would help numb the pain I felt. As the liquor burned my stomach, I figured I should slow down. The thought that I would be leaving my home country indefinitely tomorrow made me sick to my stomach. What were we even celebrating? The fact I would no longer have to run from anyone? No longer hide?

  I wiped the back of my hand across my lips to dry them from the little bit of liquor that still wet the corner of my mouth. Vinny and Luke had taken out their iPods to use on the Bose surround-sound system tha
t was installed throughout the penthouse. They were playing some rap music, and I didn’t mind. Briana had gone with them on their liquor run and she bought bathing suits for Rachel and her. After our toast, she ran to the bathroom to change. She had been dying to try out the infinity pool.

  I heard movement in the water and then a splash.

  “Wow! It’s heated, too!” Briana chirped. She swam to the far edge and propped her arms up on the ledge, looking out over the Atlantic Ocean.

  We were all having fun, but I wasn’t. Tomorrow was approaching and I couldn’t have been more anxious about leaving. I poured myself another shot and downed it.

  Hours passed. I was buzzed to the point where my situation seemed a little less dismal. I was lying on my back on one of the lounge chairs, staring into the night. Large and fluffy cumulus clouds hung low in the sky. It almost looked like I could reach up and touch them. There was only a handful of stars that I could see. Everything else was eclipsed by the city lights.

  The weather had cooled down, but it was still in the low seventies. I was in a pair of board shorts, and I had been meaning to swim…but the alcohol kept me seated. Briana was inside with Vinny and Luke cooking something. They walked to a local market and bought a ton of food. I was sure I would be hungry soon too when the drunk munchies kicked in. Rachel was leaning against the railing of the far side of the terrace, just gazing out at the ocean. Her hair flowed at the edges from the steady ocean breeze. She had removed her disguise long ago and now wore a peach-colored sundress. Grey was to my right, in the opposite corner of the terrace, typing away on his laptop. I saw his ticket lying on the oversized beige ottoman that was in front of the L-shaped couch he was sitting on. He had drunk a little, but it was a sip compared to what we have drunk. He was so focused and had been for quite some time. The moment we all settled in, he began working.

  I took another swig of whatever I was drinking. I had lost track. With every breath I took of the moist, warm air—reality continued crushing in around me. My rent was due next week, my bike was probably confiscated by the FBI, Alexis and the others were probably wondering if I was all right back at the office. I wondered if my dad was okay. Was he still being detained? Would I get to talk to him before I left? Probably not. His home and cell phones were almost certainly tapped. My old life felt like a memory, a dream I could revisit…but only when I closed my eyes. It was pointless for me to think of the mundane tasks that used to be a part of my routine. It was all gone. The Convergence Party was on a downhill slide, and I was the reason why. My dream of celebrating on election night was but a fantasy. With Cole gone, it wouldn’t be the same. Nothing would ever be the same…