The Player, The Thief and The Broken Heart - Chapter Fifty-Eight - Last Minute Change of Plans
The screens offering a view of the service stairwell, the corridor Jimmy had been in, and the hallway on the other side of the room containing the safe, went dark as the last of Jimmy's gear disappeared from view. Henry's bluff was a good one; hopefully by the time Jimmy was in the safe room, they'd have gotten the system up and running again.
"Think we should reboot?" Henry asked.
"I don't know. What do you think?" Eric felt his heart come to a stop. He'd lost sight of the screens tracking his sister as well. Where the hell had she and her friends gone? The hairs on his arms stood on end as he caught sight of a large finger pressing down on his keyboard.
"That would be a yes." Behind the man a bright light shunted on, causing all the remaining screens to look dim. Eric looked sidelong at Henry, who was giving him awkward grimace. At first Eric thought a gun was being held to his friend's neck but on second take, he realized the stranger was pressing his index finger against him.
"Don't turn around any further," a gruff voice said.
"Okay," he squeaked, raising his hands.
"I didn't say you had to raise your hands."
Eric lowered them a little. A shadow fell across his console. Primal instinct overrode the more sensible part of his brain and he turned his head around to look up at the hulking silhouette.
Henry, who was bolder than Eric and apparently even more lacking in any sense of self-preservation said, "I gather there's been a slight change of plans." He blinked under the glare of the floodlights suspended from the warehouse ceiling.
"Only the plans you had been given."
Until now, Eric hadn't put much thinking into this operation, beyond the tasks he was expected to do. Even at the outset, when this heist was being planned, he felt more like he was working on the set of some Hollywood production as a screenwriter's assistant or the guy who was going to be taping down the wires during filming. People didn't rob casinos in real life, at least not normal, college-educated, nine-to-five guys like him. And yet, somehow, he was here.
And maybe he was about to die, finger gun or no. Frank and Robbie and Eddie were miles away, probably somewhere near the strip by now. He and Henry were out in the middle of the desert in some flimsy warehouse that shouldn't have made it intact through last winter's bad storm. Alone. They were sitting ducks. Only now did the folly of what they were really doing sink in.
They were fucked.
The man had yet to say another word. All Eric could see, was that he was large. Large and mostly bald. The man took a step back and folded his arms across his ample chest. He did appear to have come alone. Eric could see no movement or shadows shifting in the darkness beyond. The only sound was the low hum of their computer equipment, and the buzzing of the lights overhead.
"What's ... going on," Henry said, with no inflection in his tone.
If this were a movie, Eric thought, Henry would leap out of his chair, deliver a Karate chop to the stranger's neck, a knee into the gut, and then they'd flee in whatever vehicle the man had used to arrive here. Unfortunately, Henry had never taken a single Martial Arts class in his life.
At last the man said, "Just watching the action."
"Then why did you switch off the feed to those screens?" Henry asked while Eric willed him to shut up. All he cared about was making it out of this place alive. Henry's questions were probably not helping that cause.
To his surprise the man answered, "You forgot to switch a couple of source feeds. Their security staff could see exactly what you could see. So, in theory, could anyone else who had managed to hack into this security system. They could see anything they want. Including your little friend there, crawling into that vent."
Eric felt the blood drain from his face. He'd been thorough, he was sure of it, but why else would this guy be here if he was speaking the truth? "So ... you're ... helping us here?"
He saw the giant man's shoulders flex. "In a way."
It was enough for now. Eric felt his heart rate slowing to normal, although adrenaline still pumped through his veins and he was feeling a little dizzy. This was why he had chosen life as an office drone to begin with, until he'd been walked out one hot summer day. If he'd really wanted to play it safe in life, he should have learned to fix furnaces and air-conditioning units. Then he'd never be out of a job.
"Them not seeing those hallways in real-time means we can't either."
"We don't want them seeing those hallways in real time, capiche?"
Henry mouthed something to Eric that he couldn't quite make out, but myriad expletives were involved. Eric racked his brain. There was no way he'd forgotten to switch the feed for those cameras to the main security room in the casino. He was tempted to log in now to double check but even if he was right, what did it matter.
"We can still watch him in the safe room. That's when we have to give the signal anyway," Henry said.
"You're a very smart young man," the stranger said.
In a higher voice, Henry asked, "Is it okay if I slip outside for a smoke?"
"You go right ahead. I think our boy at the safe will be a while anyway."
The chair spun around as Henry launched himself out of it. He returned quickly to retrieve his package of cigarettes from the top of one of the computer consoles, returned a second time to snatch up his lighter, and then he was across to the far side of the warehouse in a flash. The door slammed shut behind him.
"You don't smoke?"
"No," Eric said, facing the dimmed screens in front of him once more. Neither did Henry. He sat, frozen and indecisive. He was now alone with this strange man. And for all he knew, Henry had decided to take his chances with the endless cold desert to staying in here. Of course. No wonder Henry had been cursing him.
"How's the game going?"
Eric leaned closer to the screen showing a birds-eye view of the oblong table. The lens was too distorted to see much. "It's still going," was all he could say in response. He could see that there were people seated around the table, and cards and piles of chips in the center, but that was about it. As to who was losing or winning? He didn't care. Maybe Henry was still lurking outside, waiting for him to come out for a smoke break too. His friend was probably pacing around and spitting out quiet expletives. Henry had left the keys to his car behind but he wouldn't have been able to take them without raising the stranger's suspicions. They sat on top of the table to Eric's right, beneath the bottom row of screens. Too far for him to sneak them quietly into his hand. But he'd try.
"It's, uh, kinda hard to see the game with those bright lights on overhead."
"Can't turn up the brightness on those?"
"I guess," he said, feeling under the monitor on his right hand side. The man took the keys and pocketed them.
"Hope your friend enjoys long walks in the desert."
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