Bodie had to agree. They had always been fastidious about who they worked for and who they deprived of objects. Somehow, somebody had deceived them.
“What’s the world coming to,” he muttered. “Stealing old relics is a bloody victimless crime. Or it’s supposed to be, at least.” He shook his head, depressed.
“You realize how big a problem this is?” Pantera asked. “The Bratva are vast — worldwide. A million-man army. You may have escaped the watch on my house, but they will never stop coming. This is a matter of honor to them. Pride. It is out of respect for their boss, their father. This debt might never be repaid.”
“We’ll talk about that later,” Bodie said. “First, what the hell do you mean—escaped the watch?”
Pantera blinked. “You said you’d escaped the watch.”
“No. I didn’t say that,” Bodie said. “If they’re watching — they know we’re here.”
“No.” Now Pantera rose ramrod straight. “It’s the anxiety, the constant unease, the lack of sleep. I find it hard to focus.”
Bodie couldn’t find the words. Cassidy found them for him.
“Get it together, Jack.”
The fear that crossed his features was terrible to comprehend. “Please, God, no. Please—”
“Your family! Jack, your family. Where the fuck do they live?”
It took a moment for Pantera to say anything. “Winter Park.”
Bodie dragged him up and motioned at Cassidy. “We go now. We have to get there. We have to help them.”
And he knew, as she turned away from him, that the fear he saw etched on Cassidy Coleman’s face was not for herself, not for them. The fear was for a woman and her child.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The National History Museum in Rio de Janeiro sat a twenty-minute drive north of the famous Copacabana Beach and nearby Sugarloaf Mountain. The entrance was fronted by palm trees, bordered by banks of grass, and framed by the golden sun. Heidi could think of worse places to be.
After landing they had been taken to the hotel and then for a ride, courtesy of the local CIA station, through the colorful streets of Rio, threading between small parked cars and marveling at the multitude of wires crossing above their heads. Delivery bikes and motorcycles were plentiful, and pedestrians walked in the roads because the sidewalks were crammed. They passed high walls decorated with excessive, beautiful street art, futuristic-looking trams, and the yellow-and-green flag of Brazil flying above boulevards chock full of market stalls. The pace was lively and the noise raucous. Heidi found herself being grateful they were cocooned inside the black, air-conditioned, noise-reducing bubble all the way to the front of the museum.
Gunn climbed out first, ignoring the others as he got his first real gulp of Brazilian air. “Ah, paradise.” He sighed. “So perfect.”
Jemma pushed open the door he’d let swing back into her knees. “You’d better sunscreen up, geek. I hear hair gel really attracts the rays.”
Gunn turned to her anxiously. “Does it?”
“Mister Practical,” Jemma said, sighing, “you should read up on the real world.”
Gunn turned away. “Why should I when mine is so much better?”
“It may have helped you in the past,” Jemma said. “But we’re in a whole new situation now.”
Heidi came up beside them, not commenting on their conversation as she waited for Cross. He took a good look at their surroundings before sidling up.
“We expecting company?”
“Not that we know of. Why?”
“Just checking. You mentioned ‘other factions’ involved here.”
“Well, I guess it’s possible.” Heidi realized he made a good point and reassessed the view. “Intel suggests a Chinese faction, among others. But they won’t be wearing signs around their necks.”
During the flight they had probed the museum and its security measures. Cross had found the first loophole, an outdated sensor array, and Jemma the second, a hackable security system. Together they had worked up a plan. But it was Heidi’s responsibility to find out exactly where the statues of Baal were being kept.
“We have the vault,” she said quietly. “One floor down, and then the main workrooms next to that. Our man only managed a quick flyby, but reports he saw the statues sitting in the third workroom to the right of the vault. Three people working on them. He reported no security upgrades, but like I said, he only managed a quick look.”
Cross nodded knowingly at her. “AC problem? Internet issues?”
“No. Something far simpler. Coffee-machine upgrade. They’ve been asking for one for months.”
“And a mysterious benefactor bought and paid for plumbing it in.” Cross nodded. “As you say, simple and forgettable. The perfect recon.”
Heidi nodded in acknowledgment. “And now over to you, Eli. Time to implement your plan.”
“Sure. Well, let’s get inside the museum and take a look. Make sure there are no surprises.”
They spent the time until dark investigating both inside and outside the museum and then gathered on the grounds in a deep nest of shadows, properly attired and tooled-up, again courtesy of the local CIA. Heidi had arranged everything nicely, and Cross commented that thievery was so much easier with the help of the American government.
She shrugged. “I guess we’re pretty well versed in it.”
The team laughed quietly and made ready to move. Gunn was using a mobile tablet, which made it possible for him to join them in the field. A fact he was not entirely comfortable with.
“First time for everything, my friend,” Jemma said. “You gotta get your toes wet sometime.”
“It’s not my toes I’m worried about. It’s the rest of my body. I’d feel better if Cass and Bodie were here.”
She slapped his back. “Can’t sit behind a screen forever. Some jobs need to be done up close and personal.”
Gunn nodded. But he didn’t seem convinced.
“Use your strengths first,” Jemma said, laying it out for him, “in any situation.”
With midnight almost upon them, the team tuned out the relaxed atmosphere of a warm Brazilian night and crossed a gray paved area to lose themselves in a tangle of bushes that ran all the way to the back of the museum. With care, they crept through, keeping a close eye on the windows and the grounds. Sensors were easy. Gunn had identified two by hacking the museum’s antiquated system and knew their exact placement. The team merely hopped over the infrared beams. The windows, though, were another matter. Gunn could only initiate a brute-force overtake, which gave him control of the museum’s systems for just a few minutes. During that time Cross took a small glass cutter and hammer out.
Heidi glared at him. “Really?”
“Don’t worry. It’s just for the last bit, and I won’t use the steel.”
Cross proceeded to cut a circle, tap out the glass, and then reach inside to lever open the window lock. Once they were inside, he made sure all the sensors were touching again and stuck a large piece of clear tape over the small hole.
“A bit rudimentary,” Heidi said.
“If you think it’s shit, just say so,” Gunn said. “I mean, I do.”
“Keep your opinions to yourself,” Cross whispered. “Unless you want me to tie you to the urinals for the night.”
“Whatever works,” Jemma said. “We didn’t have much time to make a perfect plan here.”
Now Heidi looked surprised. “We had the entire plane journey, Miss Blunt.”
“I don’t know how it works in your world, CIA,” Jemma said, “but in the world of the elite thief, a job even as basic as this takes weeks of planning. That is — if you want to do it right.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, oh yeah. You don’t just look at it and live with it. You move in. You move in like it’s your brand-new permanent home. It’s your whole life for as long as it takes.”