(WP) A Desperate Heist
“This wasn’t how this was supposed to go! We were supposed to secure the package, in and out, quick and clean! Instead, this whole thing has been one disaster after another! I never should’ve trusted you! Oh, if only I’d listened to my gut…”
The general groaned, putting his head in his hands. “I should’ve known that this was all going to go wrong…”
His former friend, the assassin, flashed a smile as sharp as his knives.
“You worry too much, Sebastian. It hasn’t been all that bad.”
Sebastian glared, eyes narrowed and teeth clenched.
“Are you fucking kidding me? I’ve been scratched, nearly scalped, almost eaten, scorched and almost drowned! Are you mad?”
His companion laughed. “Maybe a little. But where’s your sense of adventure? Isn’t that why you joined the military?”
“Please, Remy. I can’t listen to another word out of your mouth, or I may back out now. Let’s just get this over with!”
This conversation was carried out in fierce, furious whispers, and Bastian was wondering exactly why he’d agreed to this again. There had been a reason that he and Remy had parted ways. They brought out the worst in each other. But he’d needed the money; the military did not pay well, especially not in the midst of a bloody revolution.
He would’ve quit already, if it hadn’t meant that his family would be put in the poorhouse. He knew how the military treated his kind. He was a monster, true, but he’d been willing to risk himself for crown and country. He’d been playing with fire, taking with Remy under his wing, in more ways than one.
And now he was again, unable to resist a job, however risky, if it meant being near Remy again.
The two unlikely partners crept through the dark building, blending into the moonless night’s shadows, Bastian’s unspoken words burning like hot coals on his tongue.
He told himself to think of the payout, which would be enough to leave the militia behind permanently and live a quiet life with his family in the country.
There were a pair of guards at the doors to the vault, and the two of them moved into action without talking, without thinking. Sinking into instinct was like using muscle memory, and Bastian couldn’t help but take pride in how quickly and efficiently they took care of the men.
His instincts were as sharp as they always were, and he let Remy take care of the vault, entering a code after a few moments of thought, the wheel on the front of the door spinning quietly. Remy’s grin was like diamonds, even in the low light, and his low laugh of victory sent chills down Bastian’s spine.
“Let’s get on with it,” Bastian grumbled, fighting to keep his lips turned down.
“Oh, come on, Bas, you can’t tell me that you don’t feel it. We’ve still got it. A cool half mill for each of us. Not bad, huh? Worth all the injuries?”
“Would you shut up so we can get out of here?”
**
