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  "Lot of cash."

  "We going to be able to carry it all out?"

  "It's a concern—our abundance of riches."

  Jerrod said, "Should I start scoring this glass?"

  "Yeah, get that shit done." Isaiah lifted one of the duffels. "Assuming the denominations are high, best case scenario, we fit about four mil into each bag."

  Letty watched as Jerrod applied cutting fluid to a wide circle.

  Using a Bohle tool kit, he carefully scored a circle with a four-foot diameter into the glass.

  "How many pounds we talking?" Letty asked.

  "Twenty-two pounds per million dollars."

  "That's eighty-eight pounds per bag. I can't carry that."

  "Nobody expecting you to. That's all on me and my badass friends. If the haul comes in at thirty-five or thirty-six, that's nine bags. Three trips across the convention center rooftop."

  "That's a helluva lot of time humping back and forth out in the open."

  "Well aware."

  "Lot of time for things to fall apart."

  "I ever say this would be easy-peasy?"

  Jerrod removed the glass cutter, said, "I think I'll go ahead and just take out the circle."

  "Might as well."

  From a foam-lined aluminum case, Jerrod lifted a new tool.

  "What's that?" Letty asked.

  "Called a cut opener."

  "Cool."

  He smiled, eating up the attention. She could've cared less, but making nice with Isaiah's cohorts didn't strike her as the worst idea she'd ever had.

  He turned a knob. "I'm just setting the tapping force. Watch this."

  Holding the device to the surface of the window, he placed the head of the glass tapper to the score line, then squeezed the lever. The cut opened in inch-long segments, slowly forming a perfect circle.

  Up in the crawlspace, the hum of the motor had stopped.

  Stu climbed down out of the ceiling with a circular saw, his face frosted with dust.

  Isaiah said, "We happy?"

  Stu grinned, wiped a sheen of sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt.

  "I was able to get an angle on the subfloor. Cut out a four-by-four section. Little glitch. There's a slab of marble over top of it. It's gonna take two or three of us to move it. I was only able to lift it a quarter of an inch, and just for a second."

  "Well, let's do this. See what we got to work with."

  # # #

  Letty tugged on a pair of latex gloves and went up first.

  Richter's contact had said two a.m., but what the hell did that mean? Surely someone would sweep the room before the money showed.

  She climbed over a tube of ductwork and emerged into a bathroom.

  Swung the beam of her flashlight across the walls.

  Swanky.

  Giant Jacuzzi tub. Triple vanity. A TV embedded in the mirror. Double-headed shower with more floor space than some apartments she'd rented in her darker days.

  She spoke into her headset, "This is not a mirror of our room. It's a large suite. How we doing on time?"

  Isaiah hit her back, "No idea, but stay cool. We need some recon."

  Letty struggled onto her feet. Her heart banging away.

  She moved across the bathroom and through an archway.

  Everything dark.

  Perfectly quiet.

  "Bathroom opens into the master suite."

  "Take it slow and low, that is the tempo," Isaiah said. "There could already be cameras or motion sensors in place."

  That gave her pause.

  "Really?"

  "Really."

  At the open doorway of the master suite, she killed the light. Stared hard into the darkness.

  "Would it be the end of the world if I turned on a proper light?" she asked.

  "Nah, go for it."

  She found a panel of dimmer switches next to the entertainment center and brought up the lights. Her eyes burned for several seconds.

  The living room boasted a wet bar, a desk, in-room dining area, plasma high-def, and a sitting area adjacent to a floor-to-ceiling window.

  The curtains had been swept back.

  The desert floor glittering below like crystals in a cave.

  Isaiah said, "Are the curtains drawn?"

  "No, they're open."

  "Close them."

  She pulled the curtains, then moved on toward the front door.

  Said, "There's a powder room and a room with a massage table by the entrance. Otherwise, we're early to the party."

  "All right. We're coming up."

  # # #

  Letty sat on one of the white leather sofas, staring at the time on her iPhone.

  12:23 a.m.

  One hour and thirty-seven minutes.

  Isaiah, Jerrod, and Stu had been circling the suite for the last fifteen, studying the floor plan.

  Jerrod said, "We have to already be here when they roll in."

  Stu was shaking his head.

  They moved out of the bedroom and eased down onto the couches.

  "We don't attack until we know what's coming through that door."

  Isaiah said, "Intel says six men."

  Jerrod said, "What if it's a dozen?"

  "Then we go home," Stu said.

  "Here's what's going to happen," Isaiah said. "They'll send two men in to sweep the room before they cart in the cash. Confirm all's cool. We can't be in here when that happens. How many cams we got, J?"

  "Three, I think. They're with Mark. Where is he, by the way? He was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago."

  "We'll put a cam in here, one in the bedroom, one in the bathroom. We let them come in. Let them get comfy. Then we come up through the floor like the fucking wild bunch. We're going to be charging in with Taser cartridges. They'll be carrying something with a tad more bite. Full-auto subs if I had to guess. We got no margin for error on this takedown. It has to be fast and quiet. One minute, they sitting around chillin'. The next they're twitching on the floor. We're gonna have to ball gag and zip-tie a minimum of six men inside of twenty seconds."

  Isaiah called Mark again but he wasn't answering.

  "Something's wrong," he said.

  "Yeah," Stu said, "he prolly decided to bail and get stoned. Where'd you find this kid anyway?"

  "He came recommended. Highly."

  "Well, he was our uplink to the room. To the hallway. Without him, we got no eyes. Without him...I think we're done."

  Isaiah bristled. "Done?"

  "How we supposed to pull this off coming in blind?"

  "You're looking at a ten million dollar payday and you talking about walking away that easy?"

  "I didn't come out to Vegas to die."

  Isaiah looked at Letty.

  "What?" she said.

  He stood and walked over to the wet bar, opened one of the cabinets.

  She said, "Hell no."

  He smiled. "Not saying it ain't gonna be tight, but I'm thinking we can fit you in there. You gonna be our eyes."

  "Hell no."

  "Really? That's cool. I'll cram Stu in there and you can bust in here with the big boys, facing down sub-machineguns with a Taser. I mean, if you feel that'd be your best contribution to the team..."

  16

  It was dark, cramped, and muggy in the cabinet. Letty crouched with her knees drawn tightly to her chest. Her iPhone was set to silent, and she clutched it in her right hand.

  1:34 a.m.

  With the slab of marble flooring in the bathroom back in place, she couldn't hear the boys in the room below. Nothing in fact but the throbbing of her heart like some anxious drum.

  What am I doing?

  What am I doing?

  A week ago a waitress.

  Now this?

  Robbing a casino?

  But it was beyond exhilarating, and she hadn't even thought of using in hours.

  Her phone lit up—Isaiah texting.

  call if you can

  She dialed.
r />   "Tell me you found Mark."

  "He's AWOL."

  "Seriously?"

  "Still ain't answering."

  "Shit."

  "He was our ride out of Dodge. Had the radio, the scanners down cold."

  "So what now?"

  "What now? Nothing now. We stand the fuck down." She felt a flare of relief, a pang of regret. "I hate this," he said, "but we gotta be ready to roll. Can't just camp out on the roof of the convention center with nine duffel bags full of cash. Hoping to somehow figure this shit out before the sun rises and the S.W.A.T. rolls in."

  Letty closed her eyes, surprised as the needle swung firmly into regret.

  "It's the score of a lifetime," she said.

  "You think I need to hear that shit?"

  "I have an idea," she said.

  "What?"

  "We need a driver, right? That's all?"

  "Yeah."

  "Call you back."

  In the darkness of the cabinet, she searched her call history.

  Please don't have done anything stupid. Please. Please. Please.

  Christian answered, "Hello?"

  "Hey, it's Letty. I wake you?"

  "No."

  "You okay?"

  "I haven't done anything yet, if that's what you're calling about."

  "I have something to ask you."

  "Thought you weren't going to try and save me."

  "I'm not." Not entirely true. She cracked the cabinet door so she could keep an eye on the entrance to the suite.

  "What's going on, Letty?"

  "Remember when I asked you what it would take for you to want to live?"

  "Yeah."

  "And you said a new experience."

  "Right."

  "What if I could give you that? Right now."

  "You could give me a new experience."

  "Yes."

  "I wasn't talking about sex, Letty. Much as I like you—"

  "I'm not either."

  "So what are you talking about?"

  "What kind of car did you drive out to Vegas?"

  "Excuse me?"

  "What kind of car did you drive here?"

  "A Suburban. Why?"

  She felt her heart swell with hope, said, "You really want a taste of something new? Something so far out of your realm of experience, it's gonna blow your mind?"

  "Yes, Letty."

  "Even if it's dangerous?"

  "Especially."

  "Fast as you can, bring your Suburban over to the Wynn. I'm going to give you the phone number of a man named Isaiah. He'll tell you exactly what to do."

  "What is this, Letty?"

  Sure about this?

  All in.

  "We're robbing the casino in less than one hour. Our driver is MIA. This is your chance to step in, take his place, and earn over a million dollars for a night's work."

  The silence on the other end of the line went on and on.

  She could just hear the sound of the television bleeding through. Some violent TV show or film. A man screaming through a gag.

  She said, "Christian? You there?"

  "Is this for real?"

  "I swear to you. Look, I hate to pressure you, but our backs are against the wall. You ever see the movie Heat?"

  "Sure. It's in my top ten."

  "Remember when De Niro goes to the diner and hires the black guy from the Allstate commercials to be his driver?"

  "Yeah."

  "Remember how it's a right then and there, in or out, yes or no proposition?"

  "I do."

  "Well this is exactly like that. I need a yes or no right now. And before you answer, I have to be straight with you. This is beyond dangerous. If it all comes off the rails, you could be killed. If we're caught, you could go to prison for a long time."

  More silence.

  She said, "Did I just totally call your bluff, or what?"

  "You called it. Damn. You called it. But you know what?"

  "What?"

  "It wasn't a bluff."

  # # #

  "No way."

  "Isaiah—"

  "No way. He's a civilian."

  "So what? He knows how to drive, doesn't he? We aren't asking him to do hostage control."

  "And you've known him how long?"

  "I met him when I lived in Charleston. Six months."

  "You gotta be kidding me. What's he doing in Vegas?"

  "He lost his family recently. He's suicidal. Nothing to live for."

  "These are selling points?"

  "You want this money or not, Isaiah? How many shots come along in your lifetime to make a score like this?" Finally, a pause. She could almost hear the gears turning. Said, "It's 1:44, Isaiah. Someone's coming through that door any minute now, and you know it."

  "Bringing somebody in I never worked with, never heard of, this late in the game, this big of a job. No scanners, no radio. We'll be blind."

  "What other options do we have? It's this or walk away right now."

  "You right. You right."

  "So you want to walk away? Pack up all your toys and go home?"

  Silence.

  She said, "Am I sitting tight or coming back down?"

  # # #

  At 1:57 a.m., she heard the electronic chiming of the door's locking mechanism.

  Her legs had gone numb ten minutes ago, a pins-and-needles sensation sparkling from her hips down to her toes.

  The discomfort vanished.

  The lights flicked on.

  Letty cracked the cabinet door open just a sliver.

  A suited man with a shaved head and neatly-trimmed goatee had entered. He was built like a vending machine. Carried a MAC-10 with a long magazine and suppressor, the machine pistol dangling from a shoulder strap.

  He glanced into the powder room, the massage room.

  Walked past the dining table, then turned, moving toward Letty's cabinet.

  She let her door close fully.

  Listening as his wing-tips sunk in the plush carpet, his wool pants swishing.

  She caught a whiff of overbearing cologne.

  Finally dared to breathe again when his footsteps trailed off toward the bedroom. She lifted her phone, banged out a text to Isaiah as the man's footfalls echoed off the marble in the bathroom.

  1 man just entered

  doing walk through

  Isaiah responded in her headset. "Copy that. Just be cool."

  The man emerged from the bedroom and walked into the living room. He lifted the shoulder strap over his head and set the machine pistol on the glass-topped coffee table. Tugged a small radio from an inner pocket in his jacket, said, "Clear."

  Thirty seconds later, that electronic chiming repeated.

  There was enough noise as the men entered for Letty to whisper into her microphone.

  "Ize, can you hear me?"

  "Loud and clear."

  She whispered, "Three, make that four men have just entered."

  "In addition to the first guy?"

  "Yeah. Five total. All armed. Shotguns. Machineguns. Pistols. And still more are coming. A whole line of them."

  "All muscle?"

  "No, they're pushing carts."

  "What's on the carts?"

  "Cages. Covered in wire mesh."

  "Our money?"

  She liked the sound of that.

  Said, "Oh my God."

  "What?"

  "I've just never seen so much. That makes six. Six carts they rolled in here."

  "Is it our money?"

  "Oh yeah. And there's a shit-ton of it. Two more guards have entered."

  "Seven total?"

  "You guys can handle seven, right?"

  The cart-pushers departed, leaving the half-dozen carts grouped near the dining area.

  The front door closed.

  A man armed with a subcompact Glock took a post by the entrance.

  The other six retired to sofas in the living room.

  One of them spoke into a radio, "We're in, lo
cked down, all secure."

  Letty whispered, "They're getting settled. One man is standing by the door, the other six are in the living area. Wait."

  One of the men stood. He moved over to the carts, and on top of one of them, placed a small device mounted to a tripod. It began to revolve slowly.

  "What's happening?" Isaiah asked.

  "Not sure yet. Stand by."

  The man pressed a button on the device, said into his radio, "Visual installed. Confirm."

  As he returned to the sofa, Letty said, "They set up a camera. It turns, takes in the entire room."

  "It's okay. We planned for this contingency."

  "So what happens now?"

  "Sit tight."

  The radio silence unnerved her. The pain in her legs was back with a vengeance. Through the crack between the door and the cabinet, she watched the guards.

  Everyone black-suited. None younger than thirty, none older than forty-five.

  Each exuding his own special brand of ex-military, fucked-by-life hardness.

  Two of the men chatted about an upcoming fight at Caesar's.

  One just stared.

  Another took laps around the room.

  She startled when Isaiah came through her earpiece.

  He said, "Report."

  "One guard is still by the door. Five seated in the living area. One on his feet near the TV."

  "Have they been making regular trips into the bedroom or bathroom?"

  "Just once."

  "Are the curtains still drawn?"

  "Yes."

  "Perfect. How you feeling?"

  "Scared."

  "It's show time."

  "Even with the camera rolling?"

  "Yes. When I say 'go', I want you to climb out of the cabinet. Let them see you. Distract them. Engage them. Just don't get yourself shot."

  "How much time do you need?"

  "Ten, maybe fifteen seconds."

  Her heart rate tripled.

  She began to perspire.

  Heard Isaiah say, "Stu? Jerrod? Ten seconds." And then, "Letisha?"

  "Yes."

  "You got your head on straight for this?"

  "Absolutely."

  "Because the next hour is going to take a few years off your life."

  "I'll bill you for the Botox."

  There was a four-second pause, and then Isaiah said, "Go."

  17

  Letty tugged down her Barbie Halloween mask.

  Her iPhone lit up with a text as she reached for the door.

  Christian: never in my life felt so alive thank you

  She nudged the door open and crawled out of the cabinet onto the carpet.