Blake Crouch: Grab

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.