51
After four solid hours of staring at the Bulgari store, I began to relax, wondering if we’d spooked them off the target because of our shenanigans in Brussels. Honestly, I felt a little relieved. Sort of wishing I were with Knuckles, getting some on a hit that had sanction instead of sitting here half praying nobody showed up. After Knuckles’s call I knew I was hanging way out over the ledge without any support.
Jennifer said, “How long do you want to stay?”
“Well, at least until they close. We know they’re after some special necklace, and they said it would be on display in the day, then locked up at night. The Pink Panthers aren’t sneaky safecrackers. They’re brazen daylight guys. The store closes, and we’re done for the day.”
“And after that?”
I thought about Kurt, and the fact that he’d ignored my call. I wasn’t sure what it meant. He wanted Kylie back more than life itself, but he’d hung me out to dry on a serious lead. And now wouldn’t talk to me. I didn’t know how to read those tea leaves.
I said, “I don’t know. We’ll get back to the hotel and reassess.”
She saw what I was thinking and said, “Kurt didn’t do that on purpose. Don’t wonder about his motives. There’s much more going on than our little hunt.”
“Yeah, inside I know that, but it’s still a little scary. Maybe something’s happened and he’s been forced to abandon us. I’m worried that we’re out here doing shit on our own now. No sanction whatsoever.”
She smiled and said, “Does that ever matter to you?”
“Well, yeah, it matters.”
“You mean like the sanction you got to bring in Nung?”
I hadn’t yet told Kurt about flying him over—or that he had to be paid—and she was gently reminding me that operations were fluid. I was doing what I did for the good of the mission, and so was Kurt. I said, “Point taken,” and returned to staring at the boring facade of the Bulgari store.
Located where two roads came together at an angle, it was situated on the point, with a door to the west and a door to the east. We’d found a café on the east side and had been watching for the better part of the day, drinking coffee.
The store was two stories tall and had some serious security, with a man just inside each door who actually unlocked them for patrons he deemed worthy to enter. Don’t look like you’re going to drop a quarter mil on jewelry? He’d just nod at you, indicating that you could head on down to another store to window-shop. The doors remained locked otherwise, with cameras everywhere, and two other roaming guards inside.
I looked at my watch and saw it was 4:58. I said, “Let’s call Nung. Head on back to the hotel. Figure out our next steps.”
Nung was currently driving our rental, parking at various locations until told to move but remaining close enough to engage when called.
“What are you thinking?”
“Honestly? I’m thinking about what I’m going to tell Nung. I can’t pay him for flying out here for nothing.”
She smiled and said, “Let me talk to him,” then, “Holy shit, Pike, take a look.”
I glanced at the store and saw a smoking-hot female being escorted by an older male. They stood outside the door, smiling, and were let in. Two minutes before closing.
One minute later, two other couples approached, the females dressed to the nines, and the males in suits. They were let in as well.
“Shit. This is it. Call Nung. Get him staged on this road.”
She started dialing, saying, “We don’t have the police. What’s the mission?”
“Catch that fuck Braden.”
Looking through plate glass, I saw the first couple start browsing the displays on the western side. Next to the guard at that door. The other two couples split, one headed to the interior of the store, and the other focusing on the displays near the eastern door. Near the guard.
I said, “Get him on the phone. It’s going to happen quick.”
And it did. I saw the eastern man pull something from his coat, and the guard at my door dropped like he’d been hit in the head with an axe handle. Looking through the glass, I saw the western door was empty. Two seconds later, the men were replaced by the two suits, both shoving in the earpieces of the door guards and looking as if they belonged. I couldn’t see the two roving security guys but knew they were down as well. The females took off their high heels and started racing through the store, smashing the glass in the displays and shoving gold into their bags.
I said, “Jesus Christ, they’re fast. This is about to be over. Where’s Nung?”
She held a finger up, speaking into the phone. “No, don’t pull up yet. Get where you can arrive in five seconds. No earlier.”
I saw a man on a motorcycle coming toward us on the eastern side, driving at an unhurried pace, keeping with the traffic. He had on a helmet, but I knew who it was.
I said, “Braden’s coming. Get Nung moving. We’re about to lose him.”
Jennifer relayed, and I watched impatiently as the bike pulled up to the eastern entrance. It sat there puttering, then one couple burst out of the exit. The man shoved a bulging canvas sack into the bike rider’s arms. I watched them run into an alley, seeing the woman toss her hat to the ground and whip off a wig.
They were gone.
I looked through the store, trying to find the others, but could see nothing. I knew they’d exited through the west door. And that they’d also gone through the profile change, altering their appearance with wigs and jackets.
I saw the bike hammer the throttle, headed to the Champs-élysées, and shouted, “Where the hell is Nung?”
A Fiat slammed to a stop in front of us, and Jennifer said, “Here. Let’s go.”
We raced out of the café, the owner behind the bar screaming at us. I had no time to pay our bill and simply ignored him, piling into the back, Jennifer taking the passenger seat.