Chapter 41: Chapter 41: In A Tight Spot

I can happily say that nothing of note occurred at the cinema. I acquired the restroom dead drop, swapped disguises, exited, and found the vehicle Lilah had stored for me in the parking lot. I cruised away as planned, in an unnoteworthy sedan with a briefcase filled with ten thousand crowns stored in the trunk.

It should go without saying I didn’t intend to meet with Crow in the pregnancy disguise. I visited another safehouse once more, retrieved my Grandmaster garb as well as a more unassuming outfit, swapped disguises again – which, as an aside, does get tiring – and finally left for the edge of the city. Once I was near the bay, I rented a fishing boat with a fake ID and sailed out until I was sufficient space from land.

I messaged Lilah my GPS, so she could inform Crow where to meet, before shifting my focus to one last costume change.

I have no clue where to begin with how difficult it proved. With a mirror, flashlight, and my makeup kit, I altered my complexion and face. I applied makeup to my skin – particularly around my face and eyes – to obscure myself with an ivory complexion, glued on a pair of false lashes, inserted a pair of honey-gold contacts into my eyes, and donned a pearl-silver messy-bob style wig.

After that, I outfitted myself in the Grandmaster ensemble, which was composed of dark blue trousers, a dark gray turtleneck, and a dark blue hooded vest. And, of course, I donned a pair of smoke-grey gloves – what kind of criminal would I be without gloves?

I can happily say I finished before Crow’s arrival. The steady beat of a helicopter’s propellers alerted me when he closed in. Its blades cut a swath of black against the intense blue of the night sky while its sweeping lights reflected off the shimmering blue beneath me.

Crow brought it into a hover above me, at which point I noticed a long rope ladder dangling from the side. I gripped it, my heart pounding. Here’s hoping for smooth sailing…  I thought before ascending into the helicopter. Once in, I exchanged pleasantries with Crow, and he whisked me back to the city.

Himitus glowed with the tantalizing lights of thousands from buildings and streets. I admired the view, since nothing besides the rotor’s rhythmic roar filled the helicopter as we closed in on Cain International.

“Hey,” Crow said as he remained fixated on the sky before us, “gotta a question for you. You steal my gum?”

If I recall correctly, I thought, you stole it, so it wasn’t yours.

I decided against saying that though – there was no point in needlessly antagonizing him – and so I instead answered with a simple yes.

“Why?” he asked. “It was just gum.”

I frowned and wondered how best to answer. “Honestly? Revenge for Strip Nijal. Did it work?”

“I blew thirty minutes looking for it, so yeah, it worked. Not really the brightest move on your part. You’d be in a tight spot if I was pettier.”

I tilted my head at his choice of words. “Pettier?”

“Yeah. Can’t just let it go, but I am willing to bury the hatchet if you do me a favor.”

“What exactly is this favor?”

“Tell me who that ‘Oz’ fellow is.”

I examined him with narrowed eyes as an observation flicked to the front of my thoughts. I never said Ozonnole’s name to him. Lilah, I reasoned before assuming he was carrying out her orders. “And what will you do if I decline this favor?”

“I’m flying the copter you need. Put two and two together.”

“Lilah won’t tolerate a betrayal,” I said, testing his response.

“She will if she doesn’t want peeps in the underworld learning about you two working together. Wouldn’t be good for business.”

Stellar pretext, I mused before asking, “Why do you even care?”

“Do I need to explain? He kidnapped and threatened a kid. What other reason do I need?”

“You’re endangering said child with this stunt,” I said. “If you expose our secret, Sylvia will become collateral damage. Who's to say what will happen? If, however, you drop this subject and complete your assignment, I’ll have no reason to mention this to Lilah. It’ll be as if this never happened.”

An amused smirk danced at the corners of his mouth. “Not bad. Not bad at all…”

I dealt him a stare which said end-of-discussion, despite the fact I didn’t expect it to end. I was certain it would work against a rogue Crow. A Crow with orders from Lilah, not so much.

“It doesn’t change anything though,” he said. “I just won’t retaliate when she comes after me. Way I see it, I’m committed to this as is, no matter how it goes. What I do next is up to you.”

I resisted a smirk and the urge to say gotcha. I couldn’t picture him saying as much if Lilah wasn’t behind things. Should I play my card now? I wondered as my counterplan begged me to let it loose. I decided against doing so, if only because I wished to continue my chat with Crow. He had been such an unexpected presence up until then that I wished to hear his thoughts on a certain something which had plagued my thoughts since Sylvia’s kidnapping.

“If I tell you,” I said, “will you kill them?”

“Eventually,” he said, his voice cold. “There’re a few things I’d like to do to him first, but all roads end in his death.”

“…Have you ever killed?”

“A few times,” he said, his voice lacking what spirit it typically had.

His admission torqued my heart and flooded my mind with more questions. Who had he killed? When? Would I have to expose him for his crimes? Could I even expose him? When I spoke, I selected the most obvious one to pose: “Why?”

“I’ve only killed someone outside of the army once,” he said, his voice now hot, “and it was self-defense against somebody who tried to stab me in the back – literally!”

“And yet you intend to assassinate Ozonnole?”

“…That’s in defense of a little girl, so I could stomach it. Anyway, the way you talking, I take it you’ve never killed before.”

A sharp slice of my head left and then right answer him.

“Wouldn’t think ‘the noble thief’ had blood on her hands. At least, not yet. Well, lucky for you, I can keep those hands nice and clean. Just give me the name.”  

“Before I do, I must warn you that there will be fallout if you kill them. Ozonnole arranged it so their death or exposure will trigger many more casualties. Children included.”

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“How?”

“That’s what I’m investigating. You’re welcome to join in the investigation. We can settle how to deal with Ozonnole once they're nice and vulnerable.”

With a crabby voice, Crow said, “Just give me Oz’s name. I’ll take care of the shield. I don’t want collateral damage any more than you.”

I buried my chin above my chest and pinched my eyes shut. “…Cassidy Cain.”

“What?!”

I snapped my neck back up and fixed him with the most defeated stare I could muster. “Ozonnole is Cassidy Cain.”

I’m aware of how senseless that ploy might seem, but I assure you, the logic was sound. I positioned myself in the most advantageous spot I could, regardless of Crow’s intent.

If he was working for Lilah, as I suspected, he’d report my name to her, and she’d recognize the lie immediately. She wouldn’t be able to do anything with that knowledge, however, as she couldn’t betray me.

If he was an independent going rogue, he lacked the element of surprise such ventures rely upon. I was certain that my crew and I could prepare a snare for him with ease.

Of course, the scheme only worked if Crow believed me – which took some work.

“How’d you reach that conclusion?” he asked.

“My methods are none of your concern.”

“They are when you could be framing someone innocent.”

“You’ve seen how I operate. Do I strike you as the sort to frame an innocent?”

A discerning frown scrunched his brow. I decided to press on.

“Did you see me when I rescued Sylvia? The red hair was a message to Cassidy. My way of telling her I figured it out. It’s why I managed to walk away as I did. I would’ve dealt with her by now, if not for the existence of a dead man’s trigger.”

The sharp chopping of the helicopter’s rotors filled the air as Crow thought.

“Cassidy’s that heiress who likes to play detective sometimes, right?” he asked.

I wouldn’t describe myself as “playing” detective, but I nodded all the same.

“I can buy her coming up with this as a trap or whatever for you,” he said. “Detective versus thief is a tale as old as time. But kidnapping a kid seems—”

“She’s a spoiled rich girl. Perhaps she doesn’t think the law applies to her? Besides, her resources would help explain how Sylvia was discovered. Cain International is a telecommunication company first and foremost.”

“Guess that makes sense…”

“What’s more,” I said, “she possesses a Zimavatan heritage. I imagine her choice of the alias Ozonnole, a Zimavatan god, was a subtle hint. Perhaps she thought herself clever?”

“I could see it. So, how does this whole gala thing fit into taking her down?”

“It’s to drive a wedge between Narcissa and her. What’s more, I simply wish to claim The Maker’s Tear.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “We’re closing in, so let’s get this done.”

Cain International’s top floor blazed the brightest out of all lights that night, the gala a glowing beacon of hope. A part of me wishes I could’ve attended: the décor was sumptuous, the circular tables draped in gold cloth. The crystal chandelier we had installed for the event hung above everyone like stars in the sky while music softly played from hidden speakers. It would’ve been an absolute treat. Most of all, I wished to be present, leading the presentation on worthwhile projects.

Another time, I thought as I withdrew my phone and synced with the audio system. We closed into the building and so I decided it best to act.

“Please forgive the discourtesy of interrupting this gala,” I said into the phone which projected my voice into the room. “I’ve business with Madame Richmond to attend to. I’ll be but a moment.”

I wished I could’ve seen inside the room. I pictured everybody turning to Narcissa. I pictured her face contorting itself into a rage. It brought a smile to my cheeks.

“There’s an item you currently possess which I wish to return to its rightful owners. It means a great deal to them.”

The helicopter closed into the building, at which point I pulled open the door. The wind shook my wig and clothes, though I peered unabated into the penthouse suite.

“I could simply take it back,” I continued, “but I don’t think you’ll truly understand the pain of what you’ve done so far if I do. So, instead of taking it, I’ve decided to take something which means a great deal to you.”

I hoisted the briefcase up for all to see.

“I took one of your bank accounts.”

Narcissa rushed openmouthed to the penthouse’s expansive windows, her gown billowing behind her, her eyes billiard-balls. I jutted my chin and fired a foxlike grin at her. She replied with repeat bangs against the glass and a savage glower.

“Word of advice, Madame Richmond: cut your losses. The outcome to this was decided the moment you dared to challenge me.”

The copter finished its pass by the building and whisked me away. As we launched back to the open waters, and I still had their attention, I heaved the money out. The bills wafted and fluttered down as I imagine the surreal scene which would manifest below. I pictured the hundreds of startled citizens who would peer up at the mixture of crowns which sprinkled the city. If not for the rotor, I’m certain I would’ve heard the thunderous cheer which would inevitably follow.

I ended the link between the phone, closed the door, and settled back into the seat. The ball was now in her court.

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