chapter thirteen: Hiring procedures
In which new clients require someone to be hired.
Keira's sitting in the kitchen trying to figure out precisely what it is that's causing
one of her pulleys to stick, because there's no way she's using it for a job when
she can't predict whether it'll give out on her mid-fall.
Ben's in the corner willing the kettle to boil faster, while jenna's flicking through
the latest copy of some skating mag, and Ashley's in the middle of Heat, making
surprised noises at the latest bit of celeb gossip. yes, the boy has no taste. "Oh
good god, you should see these photos of Helena Bonham Carter..." Ashley says
in disbelief. "How does she even manage that?"
"Probably with a lot of care and attention." Ben grunts, glaring at the kettle. "You
think her hair looks like that naturally? Scruffball bag lady is a look too."
"Says mr saville row." jenna remarks from behind her magazine.
"that's for work." Ben points out. "C'mon, boil, you bastard... You see me
wearing it for day to day?"
Ashley eyes him. "It's not like you're wearing Primark over there. I smell rather
nice quality clothing over there."
"It's not bloody Versace, I can tell you that." Ben says. "Keira, are you sure this
kettle works?"
"You should know, you had tea out of it first thing this morning." Keira says, not
looking up from the pulley, reaching for the WD-40. "It's because you've filled it
to the brim. More water there is, the longer it takes to boil. Basic science."
"Tea should not be subject to science." Ben mutters. "It should appear in front of
me when I ring for service." He pauses as the sound of bubbles starts up.
"Come on, you know you can do it..."
keira's phone goes off. 'Bank Robber' by the Clash. Jenna picks it up from
where it's sitting on top of the bread bin. "Hi, Han. What can we do you for?
Keira's preparing to do horrible things to a piece of machinery, so you're lucky
you called before she got stuck in." Pause. "ooo, really?" She waggles the phone
at Keira. "Han says new job."
Keira looks up in interest, putting the WD-40 down and wiping her hands, getting
up from her chair and taking the phone. She points at Ben. "Out, you. Thieves
need to talk business. Go and entertain yourself in the living room."
Ben whines "But it's almost ready!"
Ashley rolls up his copy of Heat and pokes Ben with it. "I'll make it. Out. Do we
eavesdrop on your work?"
"no, but..." He gives a beseeching look to the kettle. "Tea." the switch on the
kettle takes that moment to click off.
Keira rolls her eyes. "Sorry about this, han. Ben, make your cup and take it
with you, okay?"
Han sounds amused. "It's terrible when the boyfriend gets under foot."
"He's not my boyfriend, Han." Keira says as Ben leaves the kitchen with
hard-won mug of tea clutched in his hand and something else under one arm.
"Ben, are those - Ashley, get those Jaffa Cakes back. You can have one, Ben.
Not the whole bloody packet."
"Spoilsport." Ben says as Ashley divests him of the Jaffa Cakes, pulling one out
and putting it in his spare hand before pointing the way out and shutting the
door behidn him.
"Boyfriend, hot water bottle, dance partner, whatever." Han says dismissively.
"Now you've got the Jaffa Cakes back, can we talk work?"
"Go ahead." Keira says, everyone taking their places perched on the counter or
table while she puts it on speaker. "What've you got for us?"
"Something rather interesting, actually." Han says. "At least the way it's getting
to us is."
"What, you got an all singing all dancing penguin kiss-o-gram at the door?"
jenna asks. "Again?"
"Nah, that was a bloke in a bear suit." Ashley says. "Get it right."
Han clears his throat. "Can I continue?" He asks testily, then pauses. "Mudball,
get off my foot." he coughs. "Anyway. We've got a job from Harry Jones.
Something posh wants stealing."
"What does harry want with something posh?" Keira asks. "I thought Peter Stoke
always bought new."
"He does." Han says. "They had someone from out of town approach them
because they had the contacts and a bit of organisation. Plus a few people who
could handle themselves, apparently. Of course, harry contacted us because
something needed to be stolen with discretion."
"unlike that time that idiot tried to hire us for a smash and grab." Jenna says. "I
mean, seriously. Still couldn't believe it when you told us. Midn you, it's not like
you could stop giggling yourself."
"I think of it when I need a giggle." Han says. "Anyway, it's at the Russian
embassy."
"Very posh." Keira observes. "So I take it the out of towner is Russian? Or
Eastern European at the very least?"
"Oh, definitely Russian." Han says. "I demanded the client's name, because of
course there was no way we were walking into it blind..."
"We're very proud of you, Han, now give me the name." Keira says, pouring her
own mug of tea.
"Dmitri kamarov." Han says. Keira stills. You can hear him grinning into the
silence. "Tell me she nearly spat her tea everywhere."
Ashley glances at Keira. "No, but she nearly dropped the mug. er. would this
be the Dmitri kamarov? the one that works for the russian MI-13? I mean,
there's got to be more than one, right?"
"Never assume." Han says. "First rule of my work. And why yes, it is the one
you're thinking of. I'd be fascinated to see why he's going through a bunch of
London gangsters rather than slightly less convoluted channels. Most people
with his connections would hire directly, or at least go to a broker like yours
truly. What do you suppose he's hiding?"
"Christ knows." Keira says. "I mean, I've known him for years, but his rep
means he's normally up to his elbows in some very weird shit." Pause. "And by
weird, I mean secretive as fuck, convoluted and playing some fucking strange
angles." She opens the milk Ben left on the side and adds it to her tea. "So what
more can you give us?"
"Well, harry does want to meet you -" There's another yelp. "Mudball, get your
claws out of my ankle, you're not due feeding for another hour!"
"Man, your cat is getting vicious, Han." Ashley observes, opening his copy of
Heat again and flicking to the soaps section.
"Give me a second." Han says. There's a bit of rustling on his end, compounded
by the very final shutting of a door. "Right, the cat has been exiled for the
ongoing duration of this call. Anyway, keira, harry wishes to discuss it with you
and i may have mentioned you've met Kamarov. Wants to get the low down on
the charming bastard voted most likely to be snapped up for a modelling
contract since he knows bugger all about him aside from obviously an agent of
some sort. You may, of course, want to ring Kamarov first to get your stories
straight..."
"Never have thought of that in a million sundays." Keira says, sipping her tea.
"Sarcasm suits you, love, do it more often." Han says. "Just not in front of
clients. especially not scary ones like Harry Jones."
"Question is whether we should be more scared of Harry or Kamarov." Ashley
says, sipping from his own tea, then looks up. "What, kamarov gives me the
willies and I'm not afraid to admit it. It's his laid back thing."
"And in the blue corner, we have Harry Jones, all round highly intelligent hard
bastard who wouldn't hesitate to stave your head in because he thought you
needed to be told." Jenna adds. "Very nice."
"In Kamarov's favour, i will say that he's unlikely to kill you unless he thinks it's
necessary." Keira volunteers. "It's the charming act. it comes with riders."
"But the feeling I always get like I should be watching for cracks under my feet
in the ice when I'm in his presence?" Ashley asks hesitantly "What about those?"
"Trust your feelings, Ashley, they're very wise." Keira agrees.
About an hour later, Keira's on the phone to Dmitri. "Keira, I'm busy." Dmitri
states.
"yes, whatever, Tasha and jake can exist without your presence for five
minutes." Keira says dismissively. "I got a call about a new job."
"Good, I expected that they'd hire you for this given my prior research on them
and your record." Dmitri says.
"That's a pretty big gamble." Keira says doubtfully. There are other thieves
available. not as good, of course, but still. "Why didn't you just hire me
directly?"
"Plausible deniability." Dmitri says. "You're a registered consultant for MI-13 and
known associate of mine. Hiring through a proxy makes it look less suspicious
and less of a direct choice."
"Never mind that you almost certainly put criteria into the request that narrowed
down the field so that I was most likely." Keira says. "You forget that I know the
way you work, Dmitri."
"Which is an advantage in many situations, i'll admit, but there were still a few
others possible. But technically it was the firm that hired you, not me, which
gives us the all important plausible deniability, as I earlier stated." Dmitri
pauses. "I notice that you're not asking for details."
"I'll get it out of you at the formal meeting on Friday, when you can lay out the
job and its research and paperwork." Keira replies. "Russian Embassy,
something valuable. That the size of it?"
"Yes. To a certain perspective." Dmitri says.
Cue the flashing of several images that make absolutely no sense - people
screaming, the object in a dripping cave, a crystal hanging mobile that glitters
in the dark and a wind that blows from the back of beyond around people's legs.
Keira rubs her nose. This is why she hates phonecalls sometimes. Secondhand
imagery is so much better when the person she's reading it off is in the room.
"Thank you for that vagueness, i appreciate it." Keira sighs. "See you wherever
he calls."
Keira's sitting in a small italian cafe that's littered with Vespas and vespa
imagery. Well, that and the one fixed to the wall. You can't move for La Dolce
Vita era references. She's just considering another coffee when harry Jones
walks in, shaking the drizzle off his coat. "Sorry i'm late." He says briskly.
"Something came up."
Keira shrugs. "No problem." She replies, lifting the very dog eared and falling
apart copy of The Quiet American she pulled off the bookshelf at the back.
"Managed to pass the time, and I don't have anywhere to be for a while."
"Still, it's not best manners." Harry says. "Did you want anything?"
"Nother latte'd be great, thanks." Keira says, and idly watches him as he orders
from the girl behind the counter. the espresso machine behind her is so
complicated and shiny that it oozes intimidation to lesser coffee snobs, just
daring you to touch it without an extensive training session and the ability to tell
shade-roasted by smell. She leafs through another couple of pages of the book
waiting for him to come back with the drinks.
harry comes back with a tray holding two drinks, setting it down on the table
and putting the frothy one in front of her, then removing his coat and sitting
down. keira doesn't raise an eyebrow at that one, but she'd like to. Harry
removing his coat doesn't imply a short stay. Harry glances round after taking a
moment to settle himself in the chair. He's a big bloke, and as ever has
perfected the loom from a slghtly shabby leather chair. "Overdone the italian
chic, haven't they?"
Keira shrugs. "Think they're one of the few places that can justify it. They're
owned by a Vespa shop in South London. There's a sign somewhere around
here explaining their reasoning. Something about wanting decent Itlian
espresso as well as Italian scooters so they opened a cafe." She puts the book
down on the table next to her coffee. "So what is it you needed to talk about
related to the job?"
Harry turns his cup around carefully with one finger. As ever, the impression of
perfect control coming off his every gesture. "Your bookie tells me you know
my client. Spill."
Keira picks up her latte and sips some of the froth. "Tell me what you know and
i can top you up. Saves me repeating stuff."
Harry leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "Russian, but don't think he's
a businessman. Or mob, which is different. hate those fuckers."
"Works for their government." Keira informs him. "Done a few jobs where he
was involved."
"Spook?" Harry asks, raising an eyebrow. Keira nods. "Interesting. Get the
impression he's a serious fucker. Too bloody casual."
"Can handle himself." Keira says.
"And when you say..." harry leaves it trailing. They both know what that means.
harry himself is very good at handling himself.
"yes, one of those." Keira nods. "What else do you want to know?"
"Slick bastard, I have to say. He using that to cover any bad habits?" Harry
says, picking up his coffee.
"Well, he's reliable, efficient and doesn't fuck about. Slick and charming's a
good way to get people to do what he wants. it's not all about the pretty face."
Keira says, sipping hers, then chuckles. "Watching people fall at his feet when
he starts flirting is pretty funny."
Harry takes a sip from his cup and says calmly "So you'd vouch for him?" Ow.
Slightly heavy there.
"Never had a problem working with him." Keira says mildly. "And you know I'm
picky about who I work with second time round."
ben walks into one of the clubs the firm owns, nodding at Greg on the door. "You
all right?"
"Yeah." Greg nods. "Break in ten minutes, so i'm good."
"Any trouble?" Ben asks. harry's meeting him here to talk a new job he wants
Ben to oversee our end of.
"None so far." Greg says.
"Good to know." Ben nods, pushing the door open and descending the steps into
what's essentialy a cocktail bar. but one that reeks understated cool. Not a bad
place, in Ben's opinion. He spots Harry in the corner and makes his way over,
scanning his eye over the crowd to see if there's anyone who looks like trouble.
One stands out immediately. Tall, all long casual lines and good tailoring
arranged to its best advantage. Looks like a model or actor, too good looking to
not have been snapped up by a casting agent. And he bloody knows it, all right,
looking distinctly amused at all the sideways glances he's getting. Looks like he
can handle himself, too, which is interesting. Though whether that's how he's
learnt to hold himself or because he has the experience is anyone's guess. The
important question is whether he's in the bar because it's new to him and
relatively quiet or whether he's meeting someone. Currently he's amusing
himself flirting with the bar staff, who're eating out of his hand. Definitely
keeping an eye on him.
He sits down next to Harry. Ben sits down in the chair next to him, catching the
eye of the waitress going round.
"What can I get you?" She asks.
"G'n'T'll do, love." Ben says. "Ta." She nods and goes to get it. he waits for her
to come back with the drink before popping the question to Harry. "So what's
this job about then?"
"Had an approach from someone who wants something stolen." harry says,
sipping his drink. "Hiring Keira since she tends to fit most circumstances and it
looks like it might be difficult. Embassy job, would you believe."
"Those exist outside films?" Ben asks in surprise.
"Apparently so. Russian Embassy in Kensington, specifically." harry says,
mouth twitching. "Thing is, he wants a bit of help with organisation and back-up.
Thought you'd be the man for it."
"Me?" Ben asks. "Ask Keira, she's the specialist in stealing and con artistry."
"Extra hand can't hurt."
"True." Ben says, picking up his G'n'T and swirling it. "So who is this bloke?
Trustworthy? We know him from Adam?"
"Russian. Not encountered him before." He nods in good-looking bloke's
direction. "He'll be over in a bit."
Ben glances over, and good-looking bloke looks straight at him, tilting his head
before turning his attention back to the bar staff. Been aware all along, it's
bloody clear now. "Thought you'd been stung working with the Russians." Ben
says.
Harry nods. "As you say. Got an interesting in, this one."
"Better be bloody impressive." Ben says, sipping a bit of his drink. Last he'd
heard, Harry'd sworn never to work with the Russian Mob again. So it's got to
be interesting for him to be even considering it.
"Oh, it is. Keira's his marker." harry says, then smiles slightly at Ben's
expression. "Yeah, i know. Turns out your girlfriend knows some interesting
people. Says he's not mob or private interests, he's a spook. Which makes you
really bloody wonder how much he's willing to pay to get something out of his
own sodding embassy without it getting back to his lot. Got to be the only
reason he's going this convoluted."
Harry knocks back the rest of his drink, and good looking bloke takes that
moment to saunter over. And when he says saunter... he can see half the bar
following the man's hips. Christ. Not fucking fair. And if he's a spook, he really
did get snapped up by a casting agent. He stops in front of Ben, extending a
hand. "Dmitri Kamarov." He says with a charming smile. "I take it your boss has
informed you of my business proposition."
"Ben Cooper. Pleased to meet you." Ben says, reaching up and shaking the
proffered hand. Covered in weapons calluses. Which means he can definitely
fucking handle himself.
"Perhaps." The smile stays on, the tone at that right edge between hinting the
situation could have a whole new meaning and consideration of him as a
possible threat. Thing about Keira being a con artist, one night she got drunk
and actually ran through several tones to show him there really was a
difference. he sits down in the one chair left at the table. "As you have no
doubt been informed, my masters wish to retrieve something and we would
prefer not to go through the more official channels."
"What's the problem with it?" Ben asks, interested. "Why can't you just
requisition it in the name of security? I've heard that normally works." from his
dealings with MI-13, he's heard all about how many times things get confiscated
in the name of security.
"The artifact was a gift from a prominent donor with political connections, and it
has been judged somewhat sensitive in its properties. Specifically, dangerous."
Kamarov says. "However, as it is a valuable item and a gift, it would cause ...
disruption if we were to officially requisition it. Friction. There is already some
bad blood between those concerned with the nation's security and its diplomatic
arm, and we do not wish to contribute to it. Not to mention the length of time it
could take to soothe bruised egos before we were able to acquire it." he makes
a seemingly careless gesture with his hand, before bringing his thumb up to rub
his lower lip, looking thoughtful, as though what he's about to propose as a
solution is just an idea. Nothing serious. "If it was stolen, however, such
problems could be circumvented. Hence why we prefer to seek outside
workers. We would prefer that it not be traced back to us. If it looks as though
it was stolen for sale on the open market, there will be less suspicion involved."
Harry leans back. "So it looks like your agency is in a bit of a bind. You say it's
required relatively quickly, too?" ben focusses on his drink. harry's implying
pretty heavily in negotiation speak that they've got one over on Kamarov and
can bleed him or what they want to make sure the job gets done. "Some might
say that it's a bidder's market for a job like that. And it being political... well,
you understand that we've got connections to. Calling in favours might be
required. Difficult for us."
The problem is, Ben has experience with spooks. He doesn't think Harry does,
is the problem. Harry knows mob. Kamarov isn't mob. They don't scare in the
same way.
There's a pause as kamarov gives harry look #368, 'I am Daniel Craig in james
Bond mode advertising Armani and I am greatly amused'. "Do not think you
can attempt to threaten or blackmail me, mr Jones." Kamarov says. He smiles,
but it's the type of smile that puts you in mind of wolves. And snow. and
darkness. With a side effect of howling wind coming down from the steppes. It
occurs to Ben that Kamarov may be a far more dangerous man than harry
Jones, and he's all too aware of how dangerous Harry Jones is. "This operation
is fully sanctioned and I have no compunction in ending our association neatly
because you know about it and have proved difficult and therefore ... excess to
requirements."
"Neatly?" harry asks, using a sceptical tone.
"Or messily." Kamarov says, sounding like he doesn't care either way.
"Depending on the situation and the circumstances I find myself in." And if Ben's
not mistaken, he's just nakedly threatened harry, on his own territory, with
disposal if he tries to manipulate the deal beyond what Kamarov's willing to
take.
And so, two days later, Ben finds himself in an office with Keira, Kamarov and
Keira's team comprising Ashley, Jenna and Danny. Harry said Keira vouched
for Kamarov, but he thought it was just reliability after working a few jobs with
him. From the way they're relaxed around each other - Keira's constantly
needling him and Kamarov's treating her like a slightly irritating little sister he
has to put up with - that's considerably more than a few jobs. Ashley, jenna and
Danny, on the other hand, tread very carefully around him.
"What's going on over there?" Ben asks. "Keira normally has a really good
sense of self preservation."
"ongoing exposure means she's become utterly deluded, is our theory." Ashley
says. "He freaks me out, like any normal person who's ever had to work with
him. Have you read up on him? His record does not make for comfortable
viewing."
"Ruthless bastard?" ben enquires, glancing over. Keira is currently making 'you
and whose army' noises at Kamarov as they look over a collage of the
surrounding tunnels and blueprints over the years of Kensington Gardens.
Except there appears to be occasional 'frisbee' comments interspersed between
the discussion of access routes.
"Putting it mildly." Ashley says. "He's Russian MI-13, Keira's done plenty of work
with our lot, he liases regularly. But chuck his name into the Russian criminal
community and my god do they scatter."
"Noted." Ben says. "have you managed to get out of him precisely what it is he's
hiring us to steal? i've seen pictures but that's about it. Kamarov said it was
dangerous, but..."
Jenna clicks on a folder on her laptop, pulling up a picture of it. "From what
we've managed to get from research, it's a summoning tool. That looks like a
terribly pretty piece of fifteenth century bronze statuary."
"Mostly becasue it is." Ashley interjects. "Problem is, we're talking 'show this
down sotheby's and watch the fights break out'. it's really fucking valuable, and
a cultural treasure. The diplomatic core would, under normal circumstances, be
right to pitch a shit fit if one of the security agencies said 'no, sorry, we're
having it'. Problem is, search in the right places - and yeah, we're talking the
obscure ones that nice upstanding foriegn office people wouldn't know to look
for - and this lovely little piece of statuary sets off all sorts of alarm bells.
Bloody thing's cursed."
"Cursed as in bad luck?" Ben ventures.
"Cursed as in deaths start happening if you leave it too long in one place." jenna
says, tapping the screen. "See this little mark here on the edge of the base? We
haven't been able to get shots of the base, but all the stuff we can find says the
underside is covered in what looks like scratch marks."
"And what any fool knows is it's amazing how much in the way of spell stuff and
curses looks like random scratch marks." Ashley says, tilting the brim of his hat
up. "Beats me considering how much of the population was illiterate at the time.
Course, it's not to say the scratches aren't their own kind of basic code."
Jenna clicks her fingers in front of his face. "Focus. stop going geeky on us."
She shakes her head. "never start on scratch marks with a code breaker and
someone who specialises in lock picking."
"I don't specialise." Ashley protests. "It's just one of the more enjoyable
interests i have."
"True, celebrity gossip is bloody awful." She agrees, then turns back tot he
screen. "Far as we can tell, they've stuffed it in one of the glass cabinets for
display to the most nobby of their guests. Putin arrives, he'll be shown it
immediately. Anyway. Need to get it out of there. the problem is getting in."
Ben raises an eyebrow. "Thought you were some of the best thieves around."
"This is very true. the problem is the security." Jenna says. "This place is
covered in cameras, double locks, pressure pads and then there's the guards.
Fine for getting in if you don't mind being seen. Not to mention all the events
they have there. It's just bloody problematic, since smash and grabs are not
good for business and leave way too much evidence."
"Also police chasing after you." Ashley adds.
"Look, if we ignore entirely your inability to best a three year old -" comes from
over by the sewer maps.
"That's an exception and you know the three year old." Kamarov retorts.
"it's true, I trained her well." Keira says modestly.
"Do I want to know?" Ben asks, glancing at the pair with the bloody weird
chit-chat. three year old. What?
Jenna shakes her head. "Probably best not to ask."
"I now have the image of a ninja three year old." Ben says, shaking his head.
"All right, so if we can't get in by crook, what about the con artist angle?"
"Also the problem of getting into the area that has the statuette." Ashley points
out. "Mind you, if it's a big enough gathering... Jenna, got the schedule for the
next month?" Jenna pulls it up with a couple of clicks, and Ashley runs an eye
down them before calling across to the sewer wall discussion "Oi, what about
crashing the fundraiser next month?"
"Would be enough people going through the hallways..." Keira notes.
"And less messy than going through any secret entrances." Kamarov adds.
"You. Messy." Keira states in disbelief. "After the paint incident? Or the red
Square one?"
"Which Red Square incident would that be?" Kamarov asks coolly.
"The one with the -" She makes some sort of gesture across her face. God
knows what that means, but he gets it, since he nods.
"Ah, yes. I had to burn my clothing after that one anyway." Kamarov shrugs.
"Pity, I liked that coat and hat."
"I know. You bought a sodding identical set the next day and your co-workers
just thought you'd taken it to the dry cleaners." keira comments. "be a bloody
impressive dry cleaners who managed to fix the bullet holes in the sleeve and
singe marks on the inside."
"If his co-workers don't know, how do you?" Ben asks.
Keira buffs her nails on her shirt and looks very smug. "Don't doubt the
Sherlock Holmes tendencies."
Jenna pokes around a bit more for details on the fundraiser, having ignored that
entire sequence. "It's a dinner-dance thing, so you'll need to blend in." She eyes
Kamarov and Keira. "Shouldn't be hard." She pauses. "Atch, might be an idea to
insert you in as well, Ben, sicne an extra pair of eyes on the ground floor always
works and you can also work if trouble starts up. Plus, you already come with a
nice line in suits."
"The problem is that although that will enable us to get in, there's still the
security in the room to contend with." Ashley points out. "Deadlocks on that
cabinet - we need time. And we need to make sure there's no guests floating
into the room to check out the art."
"What about distraction as opposed to blending in?" Kamarov asks.
"Not bad, but setting off the fire alarm still wouldn't give us enough time." Jenna
says distractedly.
"I was thinking more of making those of us in the room the centre of attention."
Kamarov says.
"Fights are overrated and you'd probably get the security looking too hard at
your face." Danny says, finally looking up from where she's been idly tapping
away at a computer and fiddling with some tech. "Try something else."
"There is always performance." Kamarov says. "What about dancers?"
Keira raises an eyebrow at him in disbelief. "You've been letting Jake choose the
films, haven't you? That is the most cliched, overdone -"
Kamarov interrupts her. "Will they be looking at our faces?"
"Good point." Keira turns to Ben. "You, my son, are getting tango lessons."
Ben stares. he knows there was a thought progression in there somewhere, but
he's not quite sure how they got from distraction to him having tango lessons.
"What? What does tango have to do with this?"
"it seemed an obvious choice." Kamarov states, tucking his hands into his
pockets as though it's settled.
"It does?" Ben asks, still perplexed.
"The question is whether he can do it." Kamarov says thoughtfuly, running a
clinical eye up and down Ben's form where he's leaning one hip against the table
next to Ashley and Jenna.
Keira makes a dismissive gesture. "Have you ever seen the boy dance?
Rhythm in his bones and oil in his hips. Just have to teach him structure. Which
shouldn't be a problem."
"I really should trust your judgement but I'd like a bit of evidence." Kamarov
says. "Forgive me for wanting to-"
"No, no, absolutely fine." keira says. "So we start the dancing after the first
song, when enough couples are on the floor, start discreet, then ramp it up."
She leans against the wall, folding her arms. "Then when we've made sure the
crowd's been drawn, the others go out -"
Jenna taps her chin with her pen. "We go and do things to the cameras, clear
the way, then set the fire alarm off, possibly set a smoker in the kitchen. You
think that would work?"
Ashley nods. "Yeah, should do. it'll auto-open a bunch of doors too. With
everyone going out, Keira can sneak through, get changed and grab the
statuette."
"Sounds like a plan." Keira says. "Objections?"
"It's workable." Danny agrees.
"Forgive me for still being confused about where the tango came from." ben
says.
Jenna pats his hand. "Best not to ask and let the professionals sort it out. Just
go with the flow. We'll get the job done, and your boss can take his cut of the
money Kamarov's paying, and everyone walks aways happy." She pauses. "I
suggest you start watching youtube vids to get some idea of what you're doing.
Strictly's a good place to start."
"Strictly Come Dancing?" Ben asks in disbelief. "Fuck no. What do you think I
am?"
Keira turns on him with a beady eye. "Rugby players can do it. Cricket players
can do it. Dmitri can do it. Are you saying you can't where they can?"
"It's fucking Strictly!" Ben protests.
She just lifts an eyebrow and says coolly "Get a spare laptop and start studying.
It's called research, and is necessary to pulling this job off. Tomorrow you start
learning, and you have three weeks to learn and make this look good. And
effortless. Capice?"
Keira's sitting in the kitchen trying to figure out precisely what it is that's causing
one of her pulleys to stick, because there's no way she's using it for a job when
she can't predict whether it'll give out on her mid-fall.
Ben's in the corner willing the kettle to boil faster, while jenna's flicking through
the latest copy of some skating mag, and Ashley's in the middle of Heat, making
surprised noises at the latest bit of celeb gossip. yes, the boy has no taste. "Oh
good god, you should see these photos of Helena Bonham Carter..." Ashley says
in disbelief. "How does she even manage that?"
"Probably with a lot of care and attention." Ben grunts, glaring at the kettle. "You
think her hair looks like that naturally? Scruffball bag lady is a look too."
"Says mr saville row." jenna remarks from behind her magazine.
"that's for work." Ben points out. "C'mon, boil, you bastard... You see me
wearing it for day to day?"
Ashley eyes him. "It's not like you're wearing Primark over there. I smell rather
nice quality clothing over there."
"It's not bloody Versace, I can tell you that." Ben says. "Keira, are you sure this
kettle works?"
"You should know, you had tea out of it first thing this morning." Keira says, not
looking up from the pulley, reaching for the WD-40. "It's because you've filled it
to the brim. More water there is, the longer it takes to boil. Basic science."
"Tea should not be subject to science." Ben mutters. "It should appear in front of
me when I ring for service." He pauses as the sound of bubbles starts up.
"Come on, you know you can do it..."
keira's phone goes off. 'Bank Robber' by the Clash. Jenna picks it up from
where it's sitting on top of the bread bin. "Hi, Han. What can we do you for?
Keira's preparing to do horrible things to a piece of machinery, so you're lucky
you called before she got stuck in." Pause. "ooo, really?" She waggles the phone
at Keira. "Han says new job."
Keira looks up in interest, putting the WD-40 down and wiping her hands, getting
up from her chair and taking the phone. She points at Ben. "Out, you. Thieves
need to talk business. Go and entertain yourself in the living room."
Ben whines "But it's almost ready!"
Ashley rolls up his copy of Heat and pokes Ben with it. "I'll make it. Out. Do we
eavesdrop on your work?"
"no, but..." He gives a beseeching look to the kettle. "Tea." the switch on the
kettle takes that moment to click off.
Keira rolls her eyes. "Sorry about this, han. Ben, make your cup and take it
with you, okay?"
Han sounds amused. "It's terrible when the boyfriend gets under foot."
"He's not my boyfriend, Han." Keira says as Ben leaves the kitchen with
hard-won mug of tea clutched in his hand and something else under one arm.
"Ben, are those - Ashley, get those Jaffa Cakes back. You can have one, Ben.
Not the whole bloody packet."
"Spoilsport." Ben says as Ashley divests him of the Jaffa Cakes, pulling one out
and putting it in his spare hand before pointing the way out and shutting the
door behidn him.
"Boyfriend, hot water bottle, dance partner, whatever." Han says dismissively.
"Now you've got the Jaffa Cakes back, can we talk work?"
"Go ahead." Keira says, everyone taking their places perched on the counter or
table while she puts it on speaker. "What've you got for us?"
"Something rather interesting, actually." Han says. "At least the way it's getting
to us is."
"What, you got an all singing all dancing penguin kiss-o-gram at the door?"
jenna asks. "Again?"
"Nah, that was a bloke in a bear suit." Ashley says. "Get it right."
Han clears his throat. "Can I continue?" He asks testily, then pauses. "Mudball,
get off my foot." he coughs. "Anyway. We've got a job from Harry Jones.
Something posh wants stealing."
"What does harry want with something posh?" Keira asks. "I thought Peter Stoke
always bought new."
"He does." Han says. "They had someone from out of town approach them
because they had the contacts and a bit of organisation. Plus a few people who
could handle themselves, apparently. Of course, harry contacted us because
something needed to be stolen with discretion."
"unlike that time that idiot tried to hire us for a smash and grab." Jenna says. "I
mean, seriously. Still couldn't believe it when you told us. Midn you, it's not like
you could stop giggling yourself."
"I think of it when I need a giggle." Han says. "Anyway, it's at the Russian
embassy."
"Very posh." Keira observes. "So I take it the out of towner is Russian? Or
Eastern European at the very least?"
"Oh, definitely Russian." Han says. "I demanded the client's name, because of
course there was no way we were walking into it blind..."
"We're very proud of you, Han, now give me the name." Keira says, pouring her
own mug of tea.
"Dmitri kamarov." Han says. Keira stills. You can hear him grinning into the
silence. "Tell me she nearly spat her tea everywhere."
Ashley glances at Keira. "No, but she nearly dropped the mug. er. would this
be the Dmitri kamarov? the one that works for the russian MI-13? I mean,
there's got to be more than one, right?"
"Never assume." Han says. "First rule of my work. And why yes, it is the one
you're thinking of. I'd be fascinated to see why he's going through a bunch of
London gangsters rather than slightly less convoluted channels. Most people
with his connections would hire directly, or at least go to a broker like yours
truly. What do you suppose he's hiding?"
"Christ knows." Keira says. "I mean, I've known him for years, but his rep
means he's normally up to his elbows in some very weird shit." Pause. "And by
weird, I mean secretive as fuck, convoluted and playing some fucking strange
angles." She opens the milk Ben left on the side and adds it to her tea. "So what
more can you give us?"
"Well, harry does want to meet you -" There's another yelp. "Mudball, get your
claws out of my ankle, you're not due feeding for another hour!"
"Man, your cat is getting vicious, Han." Ashley observes, opening his copy of
Heat again and flicking to the soaps section.
"Give me a second." Han says. There's a bit of rustling on his end, compounded
by the very final shutting of a door. "Right, the cat has been exiled for the
ongoing duration of this call. Anyway, keira, harry wishes to discuss it with you
and i may have mentioned you've met Kamarov. Wants to get the low down on
the charming bastard voted most likely to be snapped up for a modelling
contract since he knows bugger all about him aside from obviously an agent of
some sort. You may, of course, want to ring Kamarov first to get your stories
straight..."
"Never have thought of that in a million sundays." Keira says, sipping her tea.
"Sarcasm suits you, love, do it more often." Han says. "Just not in front of
clients. especially not scary ones like Harry Jones."
"Question is whether we should be more scared of Harry or Kamarov." Ashley
says, sipping from his own tea, then looks up. "What, kamarov gives me the
willies and I'm not afraid to admit it. It's his laid back thing."
"And in the blue corner, we have Harry Jones, all round highly intelligent hard
bastard who wouldn't hesitate to stave your head in because he thought you
needed to be told." Jenna adds. "Very nice."
"In Kamarov's favour, i will say that he's unlikely to kill you unless he thinks it's
necessary." Keira volunteers. "It's the charming act. it comes with riders."
"But the feeling I always get like I should be watching for cracks under my feet
in the ice when I'm in his presence?" Ashley asks hesitantly "What about those?"
"Trust your feelings, Ashley, they're very wise." Keira agrees.
About an hour later, Keira's on the phone to Dmitri. "Keira, I'm busy." Dmitri
states.
"yes, whatever, Tasha and jake can exist without your presence for five
minutes." Keira says dismissively. "I got a call about a new job."
"Good, I expected that they'd hire you for this given my prior research on them
and your record." Dmitri says.
"That's a pretty big gamble." Keira says doubtfully. There are other thieves
available. not as good, of course, but still. "Why didn't you just hire me
directly?"
"Plausible deniability." Dmitri says. "You're a registered consultant for MI-13 and
known associate of mine. Hiring through a proxy makes it look less suspicious
and less of a direct choice."
"Never mind that you almost certainly put criteria into the request that narrowed
down the field so that I was most likely." Keira says. "You forget that I know the
way you work, Dmitri."
"Which is an advantage in many situations, i'll admit, but there were still a few
others possible. But technically it was the firm that hired you, not me, which
gives us the all important plausible deniability, as I earlier stated." Dmitri
pauses. "I notice that you're not asking for details."
"I'll get it out of you at the formal meeting on Friday, when you can lay out the
job and its research and paperwork." Keira replies. "Russian Embassy,
something valuable. That the size of it?"
"Yes. To a certain perspective." Dmitri says.
Cue the flashing of several images that make absolutely no sense - people
screaming, the object in a dripping cave, a crystal hanging mobile that glitters
in the dark and a wind that blows from the back of beyond around people's legs.
Keira rubs her nose. This is why she hates phonecalls sometimes. Secondhand
imagery is so much better when the person she's reading it off is in the room.
"Thank you for that vagueness, i appreciate it." Keira sighs. "See you wherever
he calls."
Keira's sitting in a small italian cafe that's littered with Vespas and vespa
imagery. Well, that and the one fixed to the wall. You can't move for La Dolce
Vita era references. She's just considering another coffee when harry Jones
walks in, shaking the drizzle off his coat. "Sorry i'm late." He says briskly.
"Something came up."
Keira shrugs. "No problem." She replies, lifting the very dog eared and falling
apart copy of The Quiet American she pulled off the bookshelf at the back.
"Managed to pass the time, and I don't have anywhere to be for a while."
"Still, it's not best manners." Harry says. "Did you want anything?"
"Nother latte'd be great, thanks." Keira says, and idly watches him as he orders
from the girl behind the counter. the espresso machine behind her is so
complicated and shiny that it oozes intimidation to lesser coffee snobs, just
daring you to touch it without an extensive training session and the ability to tell
shade-roasted by smell. She leafs through another couple of pages of the book
waiting for him to come back with the drinks.
harry comes back with a tray holding two drinks, setting it down on the table
and putting the frothy one in front of her, then removing his coat and sitting
down. keira doesn't raise an eyebrow at that one, but she'd like to. Harry
removing his coat doesn't imply a short stay. Harry glances round after taking a
moment to settle himself in the chair. He's a big bloke, and as ever has
perfected the loom from a slghtly shabby leather chair. "Overdone the italian
chic, haven't they?"
Keira shrugs. "Think they're one of the few places that can justify it. They're
owned by a Vespa shop in South London. There's a sign somewhere around
here explaining their reasoning. Something about wanting decent Itlian
espresso as well as Italian scooters so they opened a cafe." She puts the book
down on the table next to her coffee. "So what is it you needed to talk about
related to the job?"
Harry turns his cup around carefully with one finger. As ever, the impression of
perfect control coming off his every gesture. "Your bookie tells me you know
my client. Spill."
Keira picks up her latte and sips some of the froth. "Tell me what you know and
i can top you up. Saves me repeating stuff."
Harry leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "Russian, but don't think he's
a businessman. Or mob, which is different. hate those fuckers."
"Works for their government." Keira informs him. "Done a few jobs where he
was involved."
"Spook?" Harry asks, raising an eyebrow. Keira nods. "Interesting. Get the
impression he's a serious fucker. Too bloody casual."
"Can handle himself." Keira says.
"And when you say..." harry leaves it trailing. They both know what that means.
harry himself is very good at handling himself.
"yes, one of those." Keira nods. "What else do you want to know?"
"Slick bastard, I have to say. He using that to cover any bad habits?" Harry
says, picking up his coffee.
"Well, he's reliable, efficient and doesn't fuck about. Slick and charming's a
good way to get people to do what he wants. it's not all about the pretty face."
Keira says, sipping hers, then chuckles. "Watching people fall at his feet when
he starts flirting is pretty funny."
Harry takes a sip from his cup and says calmly "So you'd vouch for him?" Ow.
Slightly heavy there.
"Never had a problem working with him." Keira says mildly. "And you know I'm
picky about who I work with second time round."
ben walks into one of the clubs the firm owns, nodding at Greg on the door. "You
all right?"
"Yeah." Greg nods. "Break in ten minutes, so i'm good."
"Any trouble?" Ben asks. harry's meeting him here to talk a new job he wants
Ben to oversee our end of.
"None so far." Greg says.
"Good to know." Ben nods, pushing the door open and descending the steps into
what's essentialy a cocktail bar. but one that reeks understated cool. Not a bad
place, in Ben's opinion. He spots Harry in the corner and makes his way over,
scanning his eye over the crowd to see if there's anyone who looks like trouble.
One stands out immediately. Tall, all long casual lines and good tailoring
arranged to its best advantage. Looks like a model or actor, too good looking to
not have been snapped up by a casting agent. And he bloody knows it, all right,
looking distinctly amused at all the sideways glances he's getting. Looks like he
can handle himself, too, which is interesting. Though whether that's how he's
learnt to hold himself or because he has the experience is anyone's guess. The
important question is whether he's in the bar because it's new to him and
relatively quiet or whether he's meeting someone. Currently he's amusing
himself flirting with the bar staff, who're eating out of his hand. Definitely
keeping an eye on him.
He sits down next to Harry. Ben sits down in the chair next to him, catching the
eye of the waitress going round.
"What can I get you?" She asks.
"G'n'T'll do, love." Ben says. "Ta." She nods and goes to get it. he waits for her
to come back with the drink before popping the question to Harry. "So what's
this job about then?"
"Had an approach from someone who wants something stolen." harry says,
sipping his drink. "Hiring Keira since she tends to fit most circumstances and it
looks like it might be difficult. Embassy job, would you believe."
"Those exist outside films?" Ben asks in surprise.
"Apparently so. Russian Embassy in Kensington, specifically." harry says,
mouth twitching. "Thing is, he wants a bit of help with organisation and back-up.
Thought you'd be the man for it."
"Me?" Ben asks. "Ask Keira, she's the specialist in stealing and con artistry."
"Extra hand can't hurt."
"True." Ben says, picking up his G'n'T and swirling it. "So who is this bloke?
Trustworthy? We know him from Adam?"
"Russian. Not encountered him before." He nods in good-looking bloke's
direction. "He'll be over in a bit."
Ben glances over, and good-looking bloke looks straight at him, tilting his head
before turning his attention back to the bar staff. Been aware all along, it's
bloody clear now. "Thought you'd been stung working with the Russians." Ben
says.
Harry nods. "As you say. Got an interesting in, this one."
"Better be bloody impressive." Ben says, sipping a bit of his drink. Last he'd
heard, Harry'd sworn never to work with the Russian Mob again. So it's got to
be interesting for him to be even considering it.
"Oh, it is. Keira's his marker." harry says, then smiles slightly at Ben's
expression. "Yeah, i know. Turns out your girlfriend knows some interesting
people. Says he's not mob or private interests, he's a spook. Which makes you
really bloody wonder how much he's willing to pay to get something out of his
own sodding embassy without it getting back to his lot. Got to be the only
reason he's going this convoluted."
Harry knocks back the rest of his drink, and good looking bloke takes that
moment to saunter over. And when he says saunter... he can see half the bar
following the man's hips. Christ. Not fucking fair. And if he's a spook, he really
did get snapped up by a casting agent. He stops in front of Ben, extending a
hand. "Dmitri Kamarov." He says with a charming smile. "I take it your boss has
informed you of my business proposition."
"Ben Cooper. Pleased to meet you." Ben says, reaching up and shaking the
proffered hand. Covered in weapons calluses. Which means he can definitely
fucking handle himself.
"Perhaps." The smile stays on, the tone at that right edge between hinting the
situation could have a whole new meaning and consideration of him as a
possible threat. Thing about Keira being a con artist, one night she got drunk
and actually ran through several tones to show him there really was a
difference. he sits down in the one chair left at the table. "As you have no
doubt been informed, my masters wish to retrieve something and we would
prefer not to go through the more official channels."
"What's the problem with it?" Ben asks, interested. "Why can't you just
requisition it in the name of security? I've heard that normally works." from his
dealings with MI-13, he's heard all about how many times things get confiscated
in the name of security.
"The artifact was a gift from a prominent donor with political connections, and it
has been judged somewhat sensitive in its properties. Specifically, dangerous."
Kamarov says. "However, as it is a valuable item and a gift, it would cause ...
disruption if we were to officially requisition it. Friction. There is already some
bad blood between those concerned with the nation's security and its diplomatic
arm, and we do not wish to contribute to it. Not to mention the length of time it
could take to soothe bruised egos before we were able to acquire it." he makes
a seemingly careless gesture with his hand, before bringing his thumb up to rub
his lower lip, looking thoughtful, as though what he's about to propose as a
solution is just an idea. Nothing serious. "If it was stolen, however, such
problems could be circumvented. Hence why we prefer to seek outside
workers. We would prefer that it not be traced back to us. If it looks as though
it was stolen for sale on the open market, there will be less suspicion involved."
Harry leans back. "So it looks like your agency is in a bit of a bind. You say it's
required relatively quickly, too?" ben focusses on his drink. harry's implying
pretty heavily in negotiation speak that they've got one over on Kamarov and
can bleed him or what they want to make sure the job gets done. "Some might
say that it's a bidder's market for a job like that. And it being political... well,
you understand that we've got connections to. Calling in favours might be
required. Difficult for us."
The problem is, Ben has experience with spooks. He doesn't think Harry does,
is the problem. Harry knows mob. Kamarov isn't mob. They don't scare in the
same way.
There's a pause as kamarov gives harry look #368, 'I am Daniel Craig in james
Bond mode advertising Armani and I am greatly amused'. "Do not think you
can attempt to threaten or blackmail me, mr Jones." Kamarov says. He smiles,
but it's the type of smile that puts you in mind of wolves. And snow. and
darkness. With a side effect of howling wind coming down from the steppes. It
occurs to Ben that Kamarov may be a far more dangerous man than harry
Jones, and he's all too aware of how dangerous Harry Jones is. "This operation
is fully sanctioned and I have no compunction in ending our association neatly
because you know about it and have proved difficult and therefore ... excess to
requirements."
"Neatly?" harry asks, using a sceptical tone.
"Or messily." Kamarov says, sounding like he doesn't care either way.
"Depending on the situation and the circumstances I find myself in." And if Ben's
not mistaken, he's just nakedly threatened harry, on his own territory, with
disposal if he tries to manipulate the deal beyond what Kamarov's willing to
take.
And so, two days later, Ben finds himself in an office with Keira, Kamarov and
Keira's team comprising Ashley, Jenna and Danny. Harry said Keira vouched
for Kamarov, but he thought it was just reliability after working a few jobs with
him. From the way they're relaxed around each other - Keira's constantly
needling him and Kamarov's treating her like a slightly irritating little sister he
has to put up with - that's considerably more than a few jobs. Ashley, jenna and
Danny, on the other hand, tread very carefully around him.
"What's going on over there?" Ben asks. "Keira normally has a really good
sense of self preservation."
"ongoing exposure means she's become utterly deluded, is our theory." Ashley
says. "He freaks me out, like any normal person who's ever had to work with
him. Have you read up on him? His record does not make for comfortable
viewing."
"Ruthless bastard?" ben enquires, glancing over. Keira is currently making 'you
and whose army' noises at Kamarov as they look over a collage of the
surrounding tunnels and blueprints over the years of Kensington Gardens.
Except there appears to be occasional 'frisbee' comments interspersed between
the discussion of access routes.
"Putting it mildly." Ashley says. "He's Russian MI-13, Keira's done plenty of work
with our lot, he liases regularly. But chuck his name into the Russian criminal
community and my god do they scatter."
"Noted." Ben says. "have you managed to get out of him precisely what it is he's
hiring us to steal? i've seen pictures but that's about it. Kamarov said it was
dangerous, but..."
Jenna clicks on a folder on her laptop, pulling up a picture of it. "From what
we've managed to get from research, it's a summoning tool. That looks like a
terribly pretty piece of fifteenth century bronze statuary."
"Mostly becasue it is." Ashley interjects. "Problem is, we're talking 'show this
down sotheby's and watch the fights break out'. it's really fucking valuable, and
a cultural treasure. The diplomatic core would, under normal circumstances, be
right to pitch a shit fit if one of the security agencies said 'no, sorry, we're
having it'. Problem is, search in the right places - and yeah, we're talking the
obscure ones that nice upstanding foriegn office people wouldn't know to look
for - and this lovely little piece of statuary sets off all sorts of alarm bells.
Bloody thing's cursed."
"Cursed as in bad luck?" Ben ventures.
"Cursed as in deaths start happening if you leave it too long in one place." jenna
says, tapping the screen. "See this little mark here on the edge of the base? We
haven't been able to get shots of the base, but all the stuff we can find says the
underside is covered in what looks like scratch marks."
"And what any fool knows is it's amazing how much in the way of spell stuff and
curses looks like random scratch marks." Ashley says, tilting the brim of his hat
up. "Beats me considering how much of the population was illiterate at the time.
Course, it's not to say the scratches aren't their own kind of basic code."
Jenna clicks her fingers in front of his face. "Focus. stop going geeky on us."
She shakes her head. "never start on scratch marks with a code breaker and
someone who specialises in lock picking."
"I don't specialise." Ashley protests. "It's just one of the more enjoyable
interests i have."
"True, celebrity gossip is bloody awful." She agrees, then turns back tot he
screen. "Far as we can tell, they've stuffed it in one of the glass cabinets for
display to the most nobby of their guests. Putin arrives, he'll be shown it
immediately. Anyway. Need to get it out of there. the problem is getting in."
Ben raises an eyebrow. "Thought you were some of the best thieves around."
"This is very true. the problem is the security." Jenna says. "This place is
covered in cameras, double locks, pressure pads and then there's the guards.
Fine for getting in if you don't mind being seen. Not to mention all the events
they have there. It's just bloody problematic, since smash and grabs are not
good for business and leave way too much evidence."
"Also police chasing after you." Ashley adds.
"Look, if we ignore entirely your inability to best a three year old -" comes from
over by the sewer maps.
"That's an exception and you know the three year old." Kamarov retorts.
"it's true, I trained her well." Keira says modestly.
"Do I want to know?" Ben asks, glancing at the pair with the bloody weird
chit-chat. three year old. What?
Jenna shakes her head. "Probably best not to ask."
"I now have the image of a ninja three year old." Ben says, shaking his head.
"All right, so if we can't get in by crook, what about the con artist angle?"
"Also the problem of getting into the area that has the statuette." Ashley points
out. "Mind you, if it's a big enough gathering... Jenna, got the schedule for the
next month?" Jenna pulls it up with a couple of clicks, and Ashley runs an eye
down them before calling across to the sewer wall discussion "Oi, what about
crashing the fundraiser next month?"
"Would be enough people going through the hallways..." Keira notes.
"And less messy than going through any secret entrances." Kamarov adds.
"You. Messy." Keira states in disbelief. "After the paint incident? Or the red
Square one?"
"Which Red Square incident would that be?" Kamarov asks coolly.
"The one with the -" She makes some sort of gesture across her face. God
knows what that means, but he gets it, since he nods.
"Ah, yes. I had to burn my clothing after that one anyway." Kamarov shrugs.
"Pity, I liked that coat and hat."
"I know. You bought a sodding identical set the next day and your co-workers
just thought you'd taken it to the dry cleaners." keira comments. "be a bloody
impressive dry cleaners who managed to fix the bullet holes in the sleeve and
singe marks on the inside."
"If his co-workers don't know, how do you?" Ben asks.
Keira buffs her nails on her shirt and looks very smug. "Don't doubt the
Sherlock Holmes tendencies."
Jenna pokes around a bit more for details on the fundraiser, having ignored that
entire sequence. "It's a dinner-dance thing, so you'll need to blend in." She eyes
Kamarov and Keira. "Shouldn't be hard." She pauses. "Atch, might be an idea to
insert you in as well, Ben, sicne an extra pair of eyes on the ground floor always
works and you can also work if trouble starts up. Plus, you already come with a
nice line in suits."
"The problem is that although that will enable us to get in, there's still the
security in the room to contend with." Ashley points out. "Deadlocks on that
cabinet - we need time. And we need to make sure there's no guests floating
into the room to check out the art."
"What about distraction as opposed to blending in?" Kamarov asks.
"Not bad, but setting off the fire alarm still wouldn't give us enough time." Jenna
says distractedly.
"I was thinking more of making those of us in the room the centre of attention."
Kamarov says.
"Fights are overrated and you'd probably get the security looking too hard at
your face." Danny says, finally looking up from where she's been idly tapping
away at a computer and fiddling with some tech. "Try something else."
"There is always performance." Kamarov says. "What about dancers?"
Keira raises an eyebrow at him in disbelief. "You've been letting Jake choose the
films, haven't you? That is the most cliched, overdone -"
Kamarov interrupts her. "Will they be looking at our faces?"
"Good point." Keira turns to Ben. "You, my son, are getting tango lessons."
Ben stares. he knows there was a thought progression in there somewhere, but
he's not quite sure how they got from distraction to him having tango lessons.
"What? What does tango have to do with this?"
"it seemed an obvious choice." Kamarov states, tucking his hands into his
pockets as though it's settled.
"It does?" Ben asks, still perplexed.
"The question is whether he can do it." Kamarov says thoughtfuly, running a
clinical eye up and down Ben's form where he's leaning one hip against the table
next to Ashley and Jenna.
Keira makes a dismissive gesture. "Have you ever seen the boy dance?
Rhythm in his bones and oil in his hips. Just have to teach him structure. Which
shouldn't be a problem."
"I really should trust your judgement but I'd like a bit of evidence." Kamarov
says. "Forgive me for wanting to-"
"No, no, absolutely fine." keira says. "So we start the dancing after the first
song, when enough couples are on the floor, start discreet, then ramp it up."
She leans against the wall, folding her arms. "Then when we've made sure the
crowd's been drawn, the others go out -"
Jenna taps her chin with her pen. "We go and do things to the cameras, clear
the way, then set the fire alarm off, possibly set a smoker in the kitchen. You
think that would work?"
Ashley nods. "Yeah, should do. it'll auto-open a bunch of doors too. With
everyone going out, Keira can sneak through, get changed and grab the
statuette."
"Sounds like a plan." Keira says. "Objections?"
"It's workable." Danny agrees.
"Forgive me for still being confused about where the tango came from." ben
says.
Jenna pats his hand. "Best not to ask and let the professionals sort it out. Just
go with the flow. We'll get the job done, and your boss can take his cut of the
money Kamarov's paying, and everyone walks aways happy." She pauses. "I
suggest you start watching youtube vids to get some idea of what you're doing.
Strictly's a good place to start."
"Strictly Come Dancing?" Ben asks in disbelief. "Fuck no. What do you think I
am?"
Keira turns on him with a beady eye. "Rugby players can do it. Cricket players
can do it. Dmitri can do it. Are you saying you can't where they can?"
"It's fucking Strictly!" Ben protests.
She just lifts an eyebrow and says coolly "Get a spare laptop and start studying.
It's called research, and is necessary to pulling this job off. Tomorrow you start
learning, and you have three weeks to learn and make this look good. And
effortless. Capice?"