Heists and Vengeance

Fourteen

Brett

Brett burst into Ryder's study, just like he'd done two weeks ago, and was surprised to find that Ryder wasn't at his desk. He'd looked all over the house for him – where was he?

"What do you want?" said a low voice, that he immediately recognized as Ryder's. Brett turned to see his friend at the window, facing away from him.

He frowned when he saw the state of him. Ryder's meticulous appearance was now uncharacteristically disheveled – his hair was mussed, his shirt wrinkly and his rolled up sleeves were uneven.

"Well, since our original plan was busted," Brett said, as he walked over to Ryder. "I took it upon myself to research other ways to get in the gala. With Turner's help, of course."

"And?" Ryder looked over at him. His eyes were dark and fierce, and his mouth set into a grim line. Brett glanced down at the window sill Ryder was leaning on, and saw a shot glass and a bottle of something strong. He's drinking.

Ryder generally avoided alcohol, as it made him looser, and more vulnerable, so when Brett saw the liquor, he was so surprised he almost forgot to answer the question. He took a deep breath, and forced his eyes up from the booze and to his friend's face.

"There's no way to sneak in – the security is going to be too tight - so that possibility is ruled out. Also, we can't forge our invitations – they each have specific watermarks that, if faked, they will be able to detect. The only way to get in is if we have legitimate invitations, and-"

"And how do you plan to do that? Our guy is dead, remember?" Ryder's gray eyes seemed almost black now, clouded with fury and regret. Regret over what?

"Ah, but see...all we have to do is get on the guest list. Once that's sent to the invitation company...they won't realize anything's amiss. Smart, huh? I always knew I was born to be a genius."

"That could work," Ryder murmured, pointedly ignoring the last comment. "How will you do that though? Can you hack into the system?"

Brett sighed. "I tried. It's just...impetrenable." He swallowed thickly. If the guest list was this well protected, how was he going to be able to play his part in the heist? "My best guess is that it's a local file on his laptop, so the only way to add your names onto that list..."

"...is to get the computer itself." Ryder finished. "Alright. You're going to have to figure out the details of that yourself."

Brett nodded, a little too eagerly. Ryder didn't usually trust him with jobs this big, but for some reason, he'd changed his mind. "Okay."

"And take Lana with you on this. She'll learn how exactly these kinds of heists work, and maybe even help you out."

Brett nodded slowly. If he had asked for Brett to bring Erin or Cole, he would have been offended – it would have seemed like Ryder didn't think he was capable enough. But bringing the Turner girl...well, that felt like a privilege actually: he was good enough to teach someone else.

"Okay.You want a shot?" Ryder lifted his glass. Brett raised an eyebrow at the abrupt change of subject.

"Sure."

Ryder pulled out another glass seemingly from midair, and filled it up. He held it out as he topped up his own. Brett accepted the shot, but made no move to start drinking it – he just watched as Ryder tipped his head back, and downed the glass in one go. Brett wanted to say something, but refrained, choosing to occupy himself with his drink.

Ryder waited until he was done, and then filled up his glass. After polishing off that one, they had another shot. And another. And another.

By this point, the liquor must have been setting into Ryder – his eyes were glazing over, and his pale face was slightly flushed. Brett wasn't surprised – Ryder's alcohol intake was ridiculously low, something he and Erin would often tease him about.