Hell's Fury

by Davis, Dee

  For just one moment, she allowed herself to pretend that together they could somehow manage to transcend forever.

  *****

  David lay in the bed and watched the moonlight as it danced across the room, bits of dust glimmering in the reflected silver. Jessie slept with one leg slung over his thigh, possessive in her sleep in a way she would never allow when awake.

  Their coming together had been predictably combustible, but there’d also been an undercurrent he hadn’t expected. A connection that somehow had made him feel complete. He’d felt it before when they had been lovers, but it was even stronger now, surprising him with its intensity.

  He’d never really been attached to anyone. Not even Jason. Maybe that’s why he felt so damn guilty about it all. If only he’d taken his brother more seriously, then maybe Jason would be alive. The thought brought cold comfort.

  Hell, he didn’t deserve connections with anyone.

  But then maybe it wasn’t about deserving.

  The thought was oddly consoling, as if there might be some higher force out there pulling the strings. Someone or something that could see the chessboard from a bird’s-eye view—someone who knew how each move affected all the other players.

  God, he was losing it in a big way. It had just been about sex. Mind-blowing, fucking amazing sex. But still, at the end of the day, it was only physical pleasure. Anything more was just his imagination working overtime.

  Jessie moaned in her sleep, then snuggled closer against him. She looked almost innocent in moonlight. And he was surprised by the strength of his need to protect her, but that too was just an illusion.

  Jessie was more than capable of taking care of herself. And not even the heat of their coming together was going to change that. She didn’t need him, any more than he needed her.

  It should have been a comforting thought.

  But it wasn’t.

  Chapter Six

  MILAN, ITALY

  "All right. Let’s go over it one more time." Jessie adjusted her earphone so that it was hidden by her hair. "We’re all going in. I’ll head for the ladies’ room, and then Faust is going to cause a distraction. When the security man leaves his office, I’ll head for the computer."

  "And I’ll make sure no one interrupts you," David said. There’d been an undercurrent running between them all day. Morning had brought another round of passion, but no discussion. Neither of them had been ready for that.

  Besides, she wasn’t sure what she wanted to say. Which was a new development. She’d never been the kind to find herself at a loss for words, but David brought out emotions she hadn’t even known she possessed. Made her long for things she hadn’t even known she wanted.

  All of which was too confusing to try to deal with right now. Better to focus on the task at hand. "Right." She nodded, not allowing herself to look at him. "You’ll have my back while I log on to the computer for the schematics." She opened her hand to show the flashdrive in her palm. "I’ll copy it here, and then once I’m done, we’ll duck out, hopefully with no one the wiser."

  "Should go like clockwork," Faust said, adjusting the gold chain at his neck. He was decked out in a silk jacket with black linen pants, a jaunty red kerchief peeking out of his breast pocket, the total look falling somewhere between trendy and laughable. But compared to the other people Jessie had seen trying to get into the club, Faust would fit right in.

  "All right then, Faust, you’re up first." David’s scowl fit right in with his black jeans and T-shirt, the etched tail of a dragon peeking out from beneath one muscle-bound sleeve. Whatever he wore, he was still one hundred percent male.

  Faust nodded and slid open the van door. "Can you hear me?" he asked, his electronic voice carrying over the widening distance as he headed for the front of the club.

  "Roger that," David replied, checking his watch. "Two minutes and I’m following. Assuming we’re both in place, Jessie, you’ll follow. Then wait for Faust’s go."

  "Good luck," Jessie said, giving him a thumbs-up, then turned back to the computer console in the van, running a last-minute diagnostic on the portable hard drive. She’d already checked it several times, but she didn’t believe in taking chances.

  "Jessie," Faust said, his voice seeming overly loud in her ear, "I’m in place and Bishop is just clearing the guy at the door."

  "Good. I’m on my way. "

  The mike went dead, and Jessie gathered her purse and donned a pair of Manolos. Combined with her minuscule red leather skirt and sparkling halter top, she had no doubt that she would pass for a member of the international jet set. And if there was any doubt, the diamonds at her throat and ears would seal the deal. They’d been a last-minute addition, courtesy of Faust. Sometimes it took big bait to catch a big fish. Besides, she sincerely doubted he’d paid for the rocks.

  She hitched the chain of her evening bag over her shoulder, the flashdrive hidden inside, and made her way across the busy street. There was already a crowd outside the club, the neon signage casting everyone in garish light.

  She pushed by the hangers-on, keeping her eye on the man at the door. "Sandra DeMarco," she announced as she came to a halt in front of the bouncer, careful to keep her Spanish lilt just this side of bored.

  The beefy man checked a computer monitor, scrolling through the list, and then nodded toward the entrance, his grunt passing for affirmation. She waited for the doorman as he pulled open the door, and with her best vacuous smile she walked into the club.

  After the neon outside, the ground floor seemed somewhat subdued, small groups of glitterati chatting and laughing as they waited for either a bathroom or the elevator. She stood close enough to one group to look a part of it, but removed enough that they couldn’t overhear her conversation. "I’m in. Is everyone in place?"

  "To your left," came David’s reply. She shifted her gaze and saw him standing alone just beyond the reception desk. The lit cigarette in one hand was a useful prop, the exhaled smoke preventing a clear view of him, while at the same time giving him a reason for his isolation. Even in Europe, secondary smoke was becoming an issue.

  Jessie lifted her chin in acknowledgment, then headed toward the bathrooms. "Faust?"

  "Everything is ready. Detonation should be in forty-five seconds," he answered. "I’m heading back down now."

  The device David had rigged for the explosion on the first floor of the club was designed to deliver maximum smoke with minimum damage, but the panic and confusion that followed would hopefully clear the security personnel from their computer long enough for her to get the information they needed.

  Keeping her pace leisurely, she stopped just outside the bathroom door, rooting around in her purse as if she needed a lipstick or perfume or something. Silently, she counted down the seconds and was rewarded with the flash of a red warning light on the wall outside security.

  The officer on duty emerged from the little office, barking orders into a two-way, moving quickly toward the main elevators. The man at reception had his hands full trying to prevent anyone else from entering the club, the milling crowds suddenly reacting with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

  Moving quickly now, she slid through the open door, quietly closing it behind her. A bank of monitors ran along the wall, each of them with a separate view of the club and the offices above it. Taking a few precious seconds to check them out, she was relieved to note that there seemed to be no camera on the cellar.

  Most likely Braun didn’t want the hired help to know what he had hidden in the basement of the building. At least not the flunkies who worked general security. She turned her back on the monitors, careful to stay out of view of the lobby, and settled in behind a desk with a computer and large monitor.

  She quickly entered the series of passwords she’d been able to locate last night, the computer whirring with activity. However, finding the directory she was looking for took longer than she would have liked, and she’d only just found it when her earphone buzzed with David’s voice
.

  "You’ve got incoming."

  "Well, try to do something to stop them. I need more time." She didn’t wait for David’s reassurance. She knew he’d handle it.

  Still, time was of the essence. She closed her eyes, reaching out for the final password, willing it to form in her mind. At first there was nothing, but then slowly a word began to form. Rapture. Braun certainly had a preoccupation with the End Days.

  Suppressing a smile, she typed the password into the machine.

  "Everything okay?" Faust asked.

  "I’m in," she responded. "But I still need a little more time. David?"

  There was a beat of silence and then his voice there, soothing even in its disembodied form. "We’re good. I managed to convince a redhead her only chance to escape the melee was to stick with security. The guy’s not going anywhere."

  Jessie suppressed a smile, and concentrated on the files listed on the machine. She had to wade through three dummies before she finally found the right one, but everything she needed was there, including access codes and schematics.

  She plugged the flash drive into the USB port on the back of the computer, holding her breath as the critical files started to download. The device had been modified to cloak her activity, so at least for the moment she was safe from prying electronic eyes, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be intruders.

  David’s redhead couldn’t possibly distract the guard forever.

  She glanced around the control room again, using the time to ascertain that there was nothing else they needed to know. The security cameras were recording, but it looked as if they were on a repeating loop, which meant that they were erased unless the computer triggered the mechanism to stop.

  She scanned the list of files again and found the software that controlled the cameras, clicking to download it as well. Might come in handy if they wanted to escape the watchful eye of the security team.

  "Damn it, Jessie," David barked in her ear. "Get out of there now. There’s a second guard coming off the elevator."

  She stared at the computer screen, willing it to hurry, feeling the seconds tick by.

  "Jessie."

  "I’m coming. Just keep him out for another minute."

  "Got him," Faust said, the sound of his voice slurring as he tripped over something and began mumbling apologies.

  "It’s all clear, Jessie," David said. "But get out of there. I don’t care if you’ve got it or not."

  She didn’t bother to answer. No sense in wasting time on arguments. Two more seconds passed, and the bar marking progress turned green. "Mission accomplished," she said in a whisper as she pulled the drive from the computer and dropped it back into her purse.

  She crossed to the door, checking the window for clearance. David had positioned himself just opposite, catty-cornered to the door. "You’re good to go." He nodded, his dark gaze connecting with hers across the distance.

  She shivered, but pushed her thoughts away. There was nothing more dangerous than letting emotions hold sway during an operation. She cracked the door and slid through the narrow opening, making a play of applying lip gloss as she walked toward the entrance.

  Less than half an hour later, they were all safely ensconced in the comfortable villa Faust had managed to secure for them—the property of a friend of a friend of a friend.

  "So did you get what you needed?" David asked, stopping his pacing long enough to peer at the laptop over her shoulder.

  "I haven’t had time to open all the files yet. Why don’t you sit down and give me a chance to work?" She shot him an irritated look, partly because of his impatience, but mostly because it was hard to concentrate when he was standing so close.

  Faust was seated on an elegantly carved slipper chair, sipping a superior Chianti Ruffino from the excellent cellar that presumably belonged to their host. "Come have some wine. It’ll help to clear your head," Faust said.

  "My head is fine, thank you," David grumbled, accepting the glass the older man offered anyway.

  "Jessie?"

  "In a minute." She waved a hand in Faust’s direction. "I want a look at this first." She hadn’t even bothered to change clothes, although she’d abandoned the stilettos. The files were encoded, but it was easy enough to figure them out. The ones she didn’t just "know" she managed to work out on her own anyway.

  The security system was sophisticated but still fairly simple in its own right. Just as she’d suspected, the security cameras were limited to the lower floors. Access to the third-floor offices required using a keypad. All those authorized for admittance were issued individual passwords. But there was a fail-safe provided by the security company and from what Jessie could see it had never been deactivated.

  It was the kind of mistake she’d have expected even from someone like Braun.

  From there, access to the elevator leading to the vault was controlled by fingerprint recognition. A bit trickier to handle, but not an insurmountable problem. She could manage to alter her own fingerprint long enough to fool the machine, but she’d need to see a print that actually worked. And the best bet was Max Braun’s.

  Question was whether he’d be in the system somewhere. She typed in a series of commands and then a couple of passwords, slipping through a back door into Interpol’s database. Braun was a slick character, but if she was lucky he’d have been collared once or twice along the way.

  Three files later and she hit pay dirt. A charge of counterfeiting from almost twenty years ago. But fingerprints never changed. With a smile, she enlarged the scanned image of his right index finger and printed it. She’d study it later, although she was already fairly certain she’d committed the curves and ridges to memory.

  Of course in order to conceal her ability from David, she’d have to make a latex dummy. The technology was available, and David had no idea what resources she had access to. Besides, if she didn’t make a big deal about it, there wouldn’t be time for skepticism.

  "So how’s it coming?" Faust asked, his impatience more contained than David’s but apparent nevertheless.

  "I can get us around the first two security barriers, provided we keep the watchdogs occupied."

  "That’s not a problem," Faust said. "I’ve called in a favor and engaged a couple of Milanese women to run interference. They have no idea what’s going on. It’s just another lark. So you’ll have your distraction, Jessie."

  "Okay, so we’ve made the elevator to the cellar. What then?" David asked.

  "Well, that’s where it gets a bit more tricky. There’s an infrared system as well as security cameras protecting the vault. But I think I can disable the former if I have enough time with their computers. If not, we’ll have to try to subvert it another way."

  "We could try reflection. I’ll make the preparations, just in case," David said. "So what about the cameras?"

  "That one’s a lot easier." She smiled. "I’ve got access to the system and a copy of the software they use. I should be able to piece together an endless loop of empty hallway. Then all we have to do is insert it into the feed and they’ll never know we’re there."

  "So what did you find out about the vault?" Faust asked, turning to David.

  "It’s a Burg Wachter," he said, setting his glass down on the table. "Composite construction with a seven-inch door, two-inch chrome locking bolts, and dual relocks. It’s also got a drill-resistant hard plate layered on top of an additional steel plate three inches thick."

  "Combination or keyed?" Faust asked.

  "Combination," David said, checking his notes. "But there’s a tempered glass relocker."

  "What’s a relocker?" Jessie asked with a frown. Locks and vaults weren’t her forte—she preferred breaking into things more cerebral.

  "It means that if I did manage to drill through all that steel, there’s still a chance I could break a glass plate that would automatically trigger a permanent relock. I’ll have to do it by touch."

  "Sounds to me like you’ve had a bit of experience," F
aust said, looking impressed despite himself.

  "Let’s just say I’ve had the need to liberate a few things from time to time. Anyway, with the equipment you rounded up, I should be good to go."

  "So that leaves us with the steel panel blocking the exit," Faust said. "I tried to get a portable oxy-fuel gas axe or some other high-powered kind of blowtorch but unfortunately my contacts couldn’t come up with anything like that within our time frame."

  "That’s okay, it’d take too much time anyway," David said. "Not to mention the trick of getting it into the club. I think we’re better off using explosives."

  "Are you kidding?" Jessie asked. "According to the schematics the panel is five inches thick and secured into the surrounding bedrock. No lock. It’s meant to be permanent. That’s going to take some serious TNT. We might as well just send out engraved invitations."

  "No, I can rig it so that it won’t be noticeable at all. Faust, can you get your hands on some plastique and a drill that’ll support a tungsten bit?"

  "It’s within the realm of possibility," Faust acknowledged. "What are you thinking? A controlled explosion?"

  "Yeah. I’ll drill a couple of strategic holes, fill them with plastique—and instant doorway."

  "It just might work," Faust said, his tone admiring.

  "Oh, it’ll work," David said, "but I’ll also need fuse wire and a detonator. And some sort of casing to transport the lot through the club without drawing undo attention." "Shouldn’t be a problem," Faust said. "Anything else?"

  "Some industrial-grade latex would be nice," Jessie said, her gaze meeting Faust’s. "I need to make a prosthetic finger."

  David raised his eyebrows in question.

  "Fingerprint recognition," Jessie said. "I need to reproduce Braun’s print to get us onto the elevator that goes to the cellar."

  "I’m impressed."

  "Well, maybe you should hold the accolades until we see if it works."

  "It’ll work," Faust said, "but not if I don’t come up with the goods. So, if you’ll excuse me." He flipped open his cell phone, already dialing as he walked from the room.