“What is it?”

  “It’s a highly sensitive thermal scanner. With this, I’ll be able to see which keys DuFour last pressed when he entered his code into the control panel next to his safe.”

  Connor scratched his head. “I get what you’re saying, but how will you know which sequence to press them in?”

  “That’s a good question.”

  “And the answer is?” asked Connor, wishing Kim would get to the point.

  “I’ve studied DuFour for months and have learned that he’s a creature of habit. Even though he changes his password daily, everything he does relates to his family history. Tomorrow night is his late sister’s birthday, so I’m betting he’ll use that for his code.”

  “How do you know he changes the code to his safe daily?”

  “A disgruntled former guard sold me the information.”

  “Okay, I can buy that. And if he doesn’t use tomorrow’s date. Then what?”

  Kim smiled. “Then get ready to run.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Chateau Sainte Croix

  Connor gently applied the brakes, slowing the Rover. He joined a long line of expensive cars being guided to a gravel parking lot just outside the chateau by a group of young people in yellow vests carrying flashlights.

  “It looks busy,” noted Kim.

  “Is that good or bad for you?” Connor asked.

  “Good. The more people there are, the easier it will be for me to hide among the partygoers.”

  “That makes sense. What would you like me to do while you lose yourself among the attendees?”

  “I suspect everyone will be on their toes at the start of the evening, so we should join in the fun, play some games, and lose the money we were given. Then, sometime around midnight, I’ll slip away and make my way to the third floor. When I do that, you should move to the front doors and be prepared to run like hell for our car. If all goes well, which it should, and I have what I’m after, I’ll make my way to you, one way or the other.”

  Their vehicle was the next in line to park. Connor drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. In the Marines, he was used to knowing the people he worked with and rehearsing the operations they were involved in until they knew every minute detail. Tonight, however, he barely knew Kim, and that made him nervous. “Kim, I know I sound like a broken record, but please tell me you’ve got this in the bag. I’m used to being in charge, not backup.”

  Kim reached over and gently patted her accomplice’s hand. “Connor, I’ve got this. This is real life, not the movies. DuFour’s office won’t be guarded by laser beams and pressure-sensitive tiles on the floor, forcing me to act like an acrobat. We’ll be on our way back to the States before DuFour even knows he’s been robbed.”

  “God, I hope so.”

  Connor parked their Rover and generously tipped their valet fifty Euros. He and Kim slipped on their masks and hats and chuckled at each other’s ridiculous-looking costumes before walking toward the brightly lit chateau. In the courtyard, a troupe of medieval-style musicians merrily sang and danced to a top-forty song as if it had been written in the 1400s, much to the amusement of the people waiting to enter the chateau.

  Connor counted no less than six security cameras covering the courtyard and didn’t doubt there were plenty more hidden from observation. He gently nudged Kim and indicated with his head at one of the surveillance devices.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’m not worried about them, and neither should you.”

  Connor had to admire Kim’s sang froid. He’d been under fire more times than he cared to think about, but tonight he almost felt like a raw recruit. His partner, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to it all. But Connor couldn’t shake his training. Overconfidence, more often than not, led to disaster. He’d have to be extra alert tonight.

  “Bonsoir,” said a broad-shouldered man with a thick neck in a long-tailed butler’s uniform at the front entrance.

  “Good evening,” replied Connor.

  “May I please see your invitations?” asked the man, switching to English.

  “Certainly,” responded Kim, handing the man their invitations.

  The man scanned them and then handed them back. “Good evening, Mister and Miss Wright. On behalf of Monsieur Rene DuFour, I welcome you to tonight’s festivities. I hope you have a pleasant evening.”

  “I’m sure we will,” Kim said, sliding their invites into a pocket of her baggy pants.

  Connor nodded at the guard and strolled inside with Kim on his arm. So far, so good, he thought. The air seemed alive. Dozens of people dressed in flashy costumes stood in small groups, sipping champagne and laughing loudly. At the same time, others huddled around tables playing cards and roulette or tried their luck with the dice. Melodic chimes came from a side room packed with classic arcade games. Everywhere Connor looked, everyone seemed to be having a good time.

  “Where should we begin?” asked Kim.

  “I don’t know about you, but I rarely gamble, so why don’t we take a quick walk around and see what the stakes are at each table? I’d hate for us to blow all of our money in the first hour.”

  Kim nodded. They slowly wove their way through the boisterous crowd, checking out each table they passed. The lowest was fifty dollars a hand for Texas Hold’em poker, all the way up to one hundred thousand Euros for one spin on a super-sized roulette wheel in the high-stakes room.

  Connor leaned over and said into Kim’s ear, “I hope you’re good at poker because I suck. I’d play blackjack, but they want a grand per hand.”

  “Come on, let’s quit playing it safe and see how lucky we can be tonight,” she replied, steering Connor over to a table. She sat while Connor stood behind her. Kim bought five thousand Euros in chips and waited for the first hand to be played.

  “Champagne, monsieur?” asked a young woman in a black tuxedo carrying a silver tray.

  Connor smiled, took a flute, and placed it next to Kim. He tipped the server well and asked, “Would you happen to have any mineral water?”

  “But of course, monsieur. I’ll get some for you right away.”

  “Merci.”

  Connor turned back to see Kim place her cards down and win two hundred Euros. Maybe tonight wasn’t going to be all doom and gloom after all.

  Rene DuFour stood before a hall mirror as he adjusted his comically oversized, polka-dot bow tie. For this year’s event, he’d decided to go dressed as a clown. He wore large, shiny, red shoes on his feet and a baggy, multicolored costume, complete with a brightly colored wig and a bulbous, red nose.

  “Not too shabby, if I do say so myself,” said DuFour, checking himself out in the mirror. At forty-one, Rene DuFour was at the top of his game. Handsome, with short, reddish-blond hair and deep-blue eyes. He had never married, preferring the detachment of a bachelor’s lifestyle. DuFour had a muscular build and liked to ride his horses for an hour every day before breakfast. Fluent in five languages, DuFour’s aerospace company, Hera Enterprises—named after the Greek goddess of air and the stars—was on the rise, with offices throughout Europe, North America, and the Far East.

  The door to DuFour’s office opened, and a tall man with a scarred, bald head and dragon tattoos on his neck walked inside. He brought up his watch and pointed to it. “Sir, you’re going to be late to your party if you don’t hurry up.”

  DuFour spun around, nearly tripping over his novelty shoes. “That is where you are wrong, Jean, my old friend. I am only fashionably late. After all, it is my party.”

  “Yes, sir,” said the man wryly. Jean Vallin was there for the money, not to be DuFour’s friend, and was never afraid to speak his mind or express disdain regarding his boss’ eccentricities.

  “How are we doing so far?” inquired DuFour.

  “The last time I checked, we were one million Euros in the black. So, if things keep going as they are, by midnight, your late sister’s charity will be at least ten or twelve million Euros richer than it was this morning.”

  “Excellent.” DuFour slipped his wig over his head and adjusted his round, red nose. He winked at Vallin and tiptoed over to his safe. He pretended to hide what he was doing as he keyed in today’s date to secure the safe.

  Vallin tutted and shook his head. His boss’ buffoonish theatrics were beginning to wear on his nerves. Finally, he took a deep breath, unable to restrain himself anymore. “Sir, how many times do I have to tell you that your security codes are far too simple to break? A child could break them. One day, someone’s going to rob you blind.”

  DuFour smiled mischievously at his head of security. “I know; why do you think I do it?”

  “Sir, some days I wonder if you’re brilliant or borderline insane.”

  DuFour snapped his fingers in the air. “Why be boring? Why not be both?”

  “Yes, sir, why not?”

  “Come, my old legionnaire, let us mingle with the crowd and see if we can’t help them lose all of their money here tonight.”

  “Shouldn’t I stay upstairs with the security team in case something goes wrong, sir?”

  “No, that’s the last thing I want. Besides, unlike you, I want something to go wrong.”

  Two hours after arriving, Kim was up ten grand but knew that wasn’t the object of the night’s festivities and lost it all in under ten minutes. Connor, envying Kim’s winning streak, strolled over to a blackjack table and quickly lost five thousand Euros before he was forced to admit to himself that his skills lay elsewhere. Suddenly, his stomach rumbled loud enough for people standing next to Connor to hear, so he quickly filled a small plate with a tasty assortment of canapés and rejoined Kim.

  “Now what?” Connor asked, offering the canapés to Kim. “It’s only twenty-two hundred hours. We still have two more hours to kill.”

  “We still have five grand left, so let’s go and play some arcade games to waste some time,” suggested Kim.

  “For two hours?”

  Kim shrugged. “Unless you can think of something better to do, it’s all we’ve got right now.”

  Connor didn’t. “Okay, you win. Lead on.”

  Off to their right, the crowd grew noisy. Connor and Kim turned to see what the commotion was all about. The revelers parted as a man dressed as a clown made his way through the party, shaking hands and laughing at his own jokes. Behind him hovered a rough-looking gentleman in a dark blue suit with a dark scowl on his face and anger in his dark eyes. This was a man to be wary of, thought Connor.

  “Bonsoir, bonsoir,” said the clown, holding his hand in greeting.

  “Good evening, sir,” said Connor, firmly shaking the man’s hand.

  The clown pulled his hand back and pretended to be in pain. “That’s quite the grip you’ve got there. I take it by your accent that you’re American?”

  Connor almost blurted out yes without thinking when he remembered his fake passport. “No, sir, I’m Canadian.”

  “Oh. I love Canada. Where did you grow up?”

  A lifelong hockey fan, Connor smoothly replied, “Edmonton, Alberta, sir.”

  “I’ve never been there. Is it a nice town?”

  “I like it.”

  “So, what do you think of tonight’s soirée?”

  Connor glanced around at the partygoers. “It’s quite impressive.”

  “Mon Dieu, where are my manners? My name is Rene DuFour, and you are?”

  Connor was stunned to be speaking to the man whose house they intended to rob. “Wright, Darcy Wright, sir.”

  DuFour looked past Connor at Kim and smiled. “And who might this be?”

  Kim smiled and gently shook DuFour’s hand. “My name is Stephanie. I’m Darcy’s sister. It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

  “Oh no, the pleasure’s all mine. And please call me Rene. Are you having a good time tonight?”

  Kim nodded. “We are. I just wish my brother and I had brought more money to lose tonight at your charity event.”

  “Oh, dear. How much have you lost already?”

  “I think about fifteen thousand Euros.”

  DuFour chortled. “That’s nothing, mes amis.”

  “Maybe not to you, but to my brother and me; it’s almost all the money we brought here tonight.”

  DuFour snapped his fingers in the air. A split-second later, a young man in a long-tailed tuxedo ran over. “Oui, monsieur?”

  “Jean-Pierre, please give my new friends thirty thousand Euros.”

  The man bowed and hurried off to get the cash.

  Kim said, “Sir, I think there may be some kind of misunderstanding; my brother and I aren’t looking for a loan.”

  DuFour smiled. “It’s not a loan. I want you to have fun while you’re my guests. But please ensure you lose all that money in the casino before leaving tonight. My late sister Bernice’s charity and I would be most appreciative.”

  Kim was stunned. “If you say so.”

  “I do. Please excuse me; I have several hundred other guests I need to speak to tonight. Have fun, Ms. Wright.” DuFour waved goodbye and headed straight for a packed roulette table.

  Connor felt a chill creep down his spine as DuFour’s bodyguard walked past him and locked eyes with him. The man let off an aura of trouble. The less he saw of him, the better.

  “Sir, your money,” said Jean-Pierre, holding a tray with thirty thousand Euros in chips.

  “Merci,” Connors replied, tipping the young man one hundred Euros.

  Kim eyed the money. “I’ve got to tell you; this is the last thing I expected to happen to us tonight.”

  “Yes, it’s almost surreal. By the way, what charity should we lose money for?”

  “Childhood cancer.” Kim looked around the room. “Now that we’re sitting pretty, shall we try our luck at the roulette wheel or back at the card tables?”

  “It’s your call. Unfortunately, I’m lousy at both.”

  Kim saw an empty spot at the roulette table. “Come on, Connor, let’s try something new.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Connor watched the roulette dealer scoop up the last of their money. Even though it wasn’t theirs, the thought of losing thirty grand so quickly stung. It was the same salary he’d been making back in the Congo, and that was for a whole year’s service.

  “It’s nearly time,” whispered Kim.

  Connor’s senses instantly heightened. He knew from experience that no plan survives contact with the enemy. And since it wasn’t his plan, he was extra nervous. “Okay, good luck. I’ll be waiting for you by the front doors.”

  Kim winked. “See you in fifteen.”

  Connor stepped aside to let Kim fade into the party. He waited until she reached the bottom of the stairs before turning around and eyeing a gray-haired man carrying a tray packed with champagne flutes. “Here goes nothing,” said Connor under his breath. He headed straight for the server and, at the last second, pretended to look at his watch. The two men collided, spilling the drinks everywhere.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” said Connor, steadying the shaken server.

  “It’s all right, sir; I should have seen you coming.”

  “Nonsense, it’s all my fault.” Connor bent over to help pick up the glasses. If someone was watching the hall with surveillance cameras, he’d just bought Kim ten seconds.

  “Now,” said Kim, taking the stairs two at a time. She sprinted as fast as she could and reached the third floor with one second to go. Kim paused to catch her breath. She glanced up and down the corridor and thankfully saw she was alone. She adjusted the earpiece hidden under her hat and whispered, “So far, so good. I’m on the third floor, and there’s no one in sight.”

  “That’s excellent news. Good luck,” replied Connor.

  “See you soon.”

  Kim wrapped a scarf around her face and then slipped a hand into a pocket on her costume, activating a powerful surveillance jamming device. Combined with the thermal shielding stealth fabric her outfit was made from, she was almost invisible to any of the building’s surveillance cameras. To anyone watching, Kim would look like a blur or a ghost moving down the hallway. Kim moved slowly but deliberately down the hall until she found DuFour’s office. Kim tried to open the door, but as expected, it was locked. Undeterred, she dropped to one knee and dug out her lockpicking tools.

  “It’s like stealing candy from a baby,” said Kim, quickly opening the door. Before slipping inside the dark room, she held her breath and waited for a few seconds to see if an alarm would sound. Next, Kim reached for a small, red-filtered flashlight in a pocket and switched it on. She moved the light around the office, stopping at a painting of DuFour’s sister. Her heart started to race. She edged over and ran the light around the picture frame, looking for switches that might trigger an alarm. When she didn’t find any, Kim exhaled. Feeling safe, she gently removed the painting from the wall and delicately placed it on the carpeted floor.

  Kim brought out her thermal scanner and turned it on. “God, if you’re listening, if I’m ever going to screw up big time, please don’t let it be today.”

  She took a long breath and scanned the keypad on the wall beside the safe. A wide smile crept across her lips as a series of numbers and letters shone brightly on the thermal screen. She quickly typed in the date and heard the safe click. Kim’s stomach felt as if it were filled with thousands of butterflies. She was used to being scared and nervous, but this felt different. Warily, she opened the safe and looked inside. Her eyes widened when she spotted four old red leather books and several piles of paper on a shelf by themselves. Kim retrieved a stack of books from a nearby desk. She weighed them in her hand and judged they were the same weight as the four she was about to steal.

  Kim tapped her earpiece. “Standby, Connor.”

  “Roger that.”

  Kim nibbled on her lower lip, praying there wasn’t an overly sensitive pressure-sensitive device inside the safe. She brought up her replacement books and paused. It all seemed far too easy. Kim shook her head and chided herself for doubting herself. She placed her left hand over the four journals while she brought the fake ones over in her right. “Here goes nothing,” Kim said, switching the books in under a second flat. She held her breath, expecting an ear-piercing alarm to rip through the house. When only silence greeted her, she knew the most challenging part was behind her and prepared to close the safe. Kim couldn’t believe her luck when it all came crashing down. Kim cursed when she spotted a tiny, red light flashing on and off in the back of the safe.