Extraits

Parfois on pressent qu'une catastrophe est sur le point de se produire et on ne peut rien faire pour l'empêcher. Il ne reste alors qu'à contempler le désastre.

C'est pourtant l'aspect le plus amusant du métier, répliqua-t-il. Voler sa cible sans se faire voir, c'est très excitant, je te l'accorde. Mais pousser quelqu'un à te confier ses codes bancaires sans même qu'il s'en rende compte, ça n'a pas de prix. Ou parvenir à lui faire dire où il cache sa collection d'œufs de Fabergé alors qu'il ne te connaît que depuis quelques heures.

Ses pupilles brillaient de désir. Le désir du jeu. Était-ce le sens de ce regard que nous avions échangé un peu plus tôt; quand nous avions eu la même idée en même temps ? Avais-je eu cette expression ?

I woke in a small, windowless room.

The walls and ceiling were lined in black velvet – same as the plush settee I was lying on. A fog-like substance danced over the floor, but it was swirling out through a grate. A gas to wake me?

I scanned the room and checked under the sofa. Nothing here but me. Where was my backpack? I thought I was supposed to be doing the stealing. A glass dome camera winked at me from the corner.

Guess it wouldn’t be fun if they couldn’t watch.

A metal door like you might find on a submarine was on the opposite wall.

At least thirty different locks bolted it shut. Combination locks, key locks, number locks, directional locks, and even a lettered keypad at the very bottom.

Another test. Whoever was watching wanted to see if I could get out.

Easy work.

I found one of the multiuse lockpicks I’d sewn into my jacket pockets.

Fiddling open the key locks with the pin was second nature. For the combination and number locks, I pressed my ear to them and listened to the machinery tick and turn until I had them down. Before I knew it, I had a little mound of locks by my feet.

Only one left – the keypad.

I stretched my fingers. They needed a rest, and I needed a second to breathe.

This last lock was going to be tricky. Not to mention, I didn’t know what was behind this door.

Mystery doors are not my favorite things in the world.

I tried to peek between the edge of the door and the wall. What kind of lock was connected to the keypad? If it was magnetic, maybe I didn’t need to try the keypad at all.

Scratch that. They took my backpack. No backpack, no credit card.

I dragged my fingers over the buttons. Which keys were the worse for wear?

Looked like this was going to be a math thing –

The screen at the top lit up. A question scrolled across.

What was your flight attendant’s name?

A smile swept across my lips.

S-U-V-E-T-L-A-N-A

The door clicked ajar. Cautiously, I slipped through, not knowing what to expect. More doors to get through, this time with a hundred locks? Maybe a good old-fashioned dungeon?

Not a dungeon. Or a very nice dungeon if it was. I squinted while my eyes adjusted to the light. The windowless room was round, with at least a dozen doors. A random collection of plush antique armchairs and velvet sofas were positioned in a circle, facing each other. They gave off a musty smell, like mildew and wood chippings.

And… her.