Confidence Girl: The Letty Dobesh Chronicles
Page 16
“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.
“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, locked 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.
No one saw her.
She slipped out of sight behind the bar, made herself take three deep breaths, flooding her lungs with oxygen.
She tried to stand but her legs were still numb. Frantically, she squeezed her calves. The tingling burn of sensation roared back.
Up onto her feet.
Got her elbows on the granite bar.
For what seemed ages, nothing happened.
She couldn’t see the guard by the entrance, but the six men in the living room carried on just as before.
She opened her mouth.
The words fell out.
“What a sausage fest. Could I get any of you gentlemen a drink?”
The air went out of the room.
Six heads turning.
The seventh guard stepping out from the entranceway with an expression of pure disbelief spreading across his face.
Three men were already on their feet, reaching for weapons, the others rising.
Someone said, “How the hell—”
Letty said, “I sort of come with the room.”
The tallest, oldest of the bunch stepped forward and trained his Glock on the center of her chest.
Thank God—he was blocking the camera from seeing her.
He said, “How did you get into this room?”
“Did you not just hear me?”
“You have no idea the world of shit you have just brought down on yourself.”
Letty smiled through the mask, making sure to keep her hands visible and still.
“Worlds of shit are all I know, dude.”
She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she heard the faintest sound coming through the wall—something sliding across the bathroom floor.
In her ear, Isaiah whispered through a strained voice, “Keep him talking, we’re almost in.”
She said, “Are you sure you don’t want that drink? Gotta be honest. You all seem a little tense.”
The man glanced at the wide-load who had been on the door.
“You were first in, asshole. Where’d she come from?”
“I checked everywhere.”
“Really.” He came another step forward, Let
ty growing increasingly uneasy with that black hole of death staring her down. Wasn’t the first time, but you never got used to it. The difference between you being here and not—just the smallest movement of a finger.
Isaiah said, “Letty, get down.”
She dropped.
By the time she hit the carpet, the lights had gone out.
Instinct drove her to cover her head with her arms.
She heard confused shouting.
Footfalls on carpet.
Bursts of suppressed sub-machinegun fire, rounds chewing through the drywall.
Then the sound of snapping filled the room, interspersed with the shuck-shuck of shotguns pumping, more snapping, men screaming.
Isaiah’s voice, “Go, go, go.”
Jerrod: “Hit him again.”
Men groaning, struggling against the electrical current.
Stu said, “Lights back in ten. Disable the camera.”
Jerrod: “It’s toast.”
Letty sat up, grabbed hold of the edge of the bar, and hauled herself back onto her feet.
Isaiah said, “Everyone secure?”
“Yep.”
“Yes.”
Stu said, “Five seconds. Remove goggles.”
“Done.”
“Done.”
“Three, two, one.”
The lights returned.
What a difference thirty seconds had made.
Letty said, “Color me impressed.”
Six of the seven guards lay on their stomachs, hog-tied with Zip Ties, twitching with the remnants of Taser shock. The barbed electrodes were still embedded in their chests, the propulsion cartridges dangling by wires.
Stu and Jerrod straddled two of the men, tightening ball-gags around the backs of their heads. Isaiah sat on the chest of the seventh who wasn’t gagged. He held a radio in one hand, a Fairbairn Sykes in the other, the knifepoint digging under the man’s right eye.
Letty’s crew looked more like mercs than thieves. Outfitted in close-fitting night camo. Night vision goggles hanging from their necks. Super 90’s strapped to their backs. All wearing neoprene face masks screen-printed with demonic-looking clowns.
Isaiah said to the guard pinned under his weight, “Tell them the camera shorted out, and to send someone up with a spare. I double-dog dare you to try a goddamn thing.”
The man nodded.
Isaiah clicked TALK.
“Hey, it’s Matt, over?”
“Copy, we lost visual, over.”
Letty walked out from behind the bar into the living room.