Remy tugged at his collar and took a drink from a passing penguin-suited waiter. Fuck whatever bastard who determined what men wore in these places. Ties had been old fashioned before the first bomb fell. Of all the things that died out since then, ties couldn’t be one of them? He tugged a finger at his collar. The shirt was tighter than the last time he’d worn it. Josie must’ve shrunk it in the wash.

He took a sip of his drink. It was gin. Sort of. Gin plus, as dad always called it. Served in a fancy glass with a drop or two of vermouth but gin nonetheless. He saw Franklin across the room entertaining a gaggle of local dignitaries. They laughed at his jokes and offered to bring him drink after drink. The Keymaker - though none of them knew him as such - lorded over his kingdom with a firm peach margarita-filled hand.

Josie was no where to be seen which was for the best. Most heists didn’t go well if a camera or unfortunately bright waiter caught a few familiar faces in just the right inconvenient areas over and over again. Easier to stick to the plan and improvise if necessary.

His job was to look suave at the bar and tip well. Peacocking was one of the better jobs you could do in a heist and it laid the groundwork for when shit went sideways later on. A few friendly faces or a greased hand could defuse suspicion as fast as actually being innocent. Sometimes, even faster. It was going pretty well so far.

“Oh, I think you dropped this.” A pretty young thing in a black dress handed a piece of paper to Remy. She was pretty in an eager way, trying hard to look like she wasn’t trying hard with her hair up in a casual way that undoubtedly took hours and a can of spray. All the same, he took the paper and pocketed it.

“Thanks, can I buy you a drink? Name’s Remy.” He offered his hand and she took it. He bit back a frown. Cold and clammy was unpleasant no matter how pretty the face.

“God’s sake, you don’t have to buy everyone a drink just to flirt. Say hi, ask how her day is, compliment her shoes.” Josie said in his ear. He scratched the back of his ear and the volume dimmed. He’d become pretty good at tuning out her implant in his ear but Josie liked to comment. Remy felt a twinge of guilt ordering another woman a drink within earshot of Josie. He suddenly hoped he didn’t run into Claire tonight. Maybe she’d be working the outside of the speakeasy instead of the auction itself. Somehow, he doubted he would have the luck to spare for something like that.

“I’m Wendy. Vodka tonic if you’d like.” She sidled up next to him at the bar. Remy waved for Patrick and the penguin toddled over.

“Vodka tonic for the lady.”

He bowed away to make it the old fashioned way with a shaker and everything. Always working for that extra tip. Patrick smiled and twirled the bottle with a flourish.

“So what brings you here Wendy? Bidding tonight?” The nice thing about a gin plus cocktail was that it got better with every sip. What started with a pucker against the new ingredient intruding upon the familiar was now leaving him hankering for an olive or three. She smiled and shook her head.

“Oh, I’m not much for collecting Vascs but it’s for a good cause right?”

“Great cause.” Remy agreed. He had no idea what cause it was for. Save the whales? Kill the whales? That had been an oversight in their planning. “So, just contributing via a bar tab then, huh?”

“Well, you are. Not me.”

“Touché.”

Wendy was a real nice girl, it seemed. She was an intern in Revolution Hall and had just graduated from the Academy. Young and dumb. There was a time, not all that long ago when that would’ve been the exact type of girl that Remy would’ve gone for. Josie only popped into his ear twice more to make comments. Like she could talk. She was one to talk, given her own proclivity for feeling up some man near as young as Wendy and getting her own free drinks. There was no jealousy in the thought, but it did warm his collar.

After two cocktails and Wendy assuring him that it was truly her number in his pocket, - “You’re not actually going to call her, are you?” - she took her leave to the “little girls room.” Remy disappeared from the bar in that time, tossing a much too large credit chip to Patrick as he went. The bartender pocketed it with a grin, and Remy figured he would cover for the abrupt disappearance.

The real auction was approaching and it was time for Remy to get into position. Conversation in the lobby echoed up the open atrium and it didn’t take a lot of skill to weave toward the bank of lifts along the back wall.

He waited for what could have been the same old man with either his granddaughter or his much too young date to take a lift and he hopped into the next unoccupied one. Remy ran through the code and the lift whirred to life.

“You ready?” he whispered.

“Already down here, chief. Hiding in the old kitchens.” Josie replied.

“Be there soon.”

He walked through the staff locker room which was mercifully empty. He hadn’t loaded a Vasc to deal with it and only had an old style pre-war hand gun to take care of inconveniences. It was loud, messy, and would blow the plan to bits. But, if Happy Jack’s boys found him in a dark corner he wouldn’t have much of a choice. His eyes lingered on Claire’s locker as he passed through and thought, for just a moment, that he could smell her perfume.

Josie was sitting on a steel table swinging her legs and snapping her gum.

“Hey, buy a girl a drink?” she winked doing a bad impression of Wendy.

He would’ve too, with her looking like that. Josie dolled up was a sight to see and she was dressed to the nines for the auction. Even though her part was under the auction, it would be easier to claim she got lost if she looked like a rich, confused socialite instead of a black-clad cat burglar. He and Franklin were the public faces.

“Oh, shut up. You ready?”

“Not even shots? Remy, I thought you knew how to treat a woman. Do you think she was a prostitute? You’re a good looking guy, Rem, but it makes sense at a place like this, right? Single guy at the bar, and all.”

She would be picking at him about this for awhile. He hoped so at least. That meant they made it out together and no one was bleeding out in an alley and he wasn’t racked up with 50,000 volts coursing through clamps on his nipples.

Josie followed him further down the hallway popping cherry gum and laughing at her own jokes. She must’ve had a drink or three before coming down. That’s okay, he’d had them too. Booze made everything just a bit easier. Then harder. The trick was to walk the fine line between expertise and stumbling down steps.

“You pre-loaded?” She asked quietly.

“You’ve asked me that already.”

“Well, a Displacer takes awhile. You remember the Beltrider. Just want to make sure you’re adapted.”

“Guess we don’t have much of a choice either way, at this point.” He hoped he was adapted. Displacement was an awful feeling, even when the Vasc could be fully-loaded. A faulty load might kill him. He’d really only have one chance to get it right.

The electrical room that Remy remembered was much further down the hall than he’d initially planned for. They wound through the Freeworker’s bowels past familiar doors and inviting side paths. Surely, there were other secrets of the rich and famous down here. Clandestine affairs, stashed lock boxes, maybe a dead body or two. A wistful part of him almost regretted leaving New Madison without taking a peak. Almost.

“There’s the back of the vault so that means the electrical room is just around the corner.” he pointed to the large metal slab. And, as promised, the electrical door was there. He gave Josie a smile out of the corner of his mouth. “Think you can get in?”

Josie tossed him the look and started working on the lock. He smirked, realizing how much he’d missed having someone whose look had that effect on him.

He continued down the hall to keep watch and listened in on Franklin’s ear piece. He didn’t talk much, letting the sycophants drone on and taking it in. By the sound of it, they’d entered the speakeasy. Franklin would head right into the auction with his ticket. Not that he really needed one. Franklin had given Remy his second one and he was supposed to go in right before it was about to start and wait near the back. If things went right, they’d only have one chance at it.

“Got it.”

Remy returned to the electrical room and found Josie digging through a rat’s nest of wires. There were four large panels along the far wall with thick bundles of wires connecting to the floor. Josie was digging under one conveniently labeled “Vault”. Electricians liked knowing what they worked on so it didn’t really make sense to leave the panels a mystery.

“What can I do?” Remy knew the answer was nothing. She had the sparky thumb, but a man had to ask.

“Nothing. I think I got it here.” She followed a thick green wire from the panel down to the floor. “Yeah, this one.” Josie brushed a thick black curl back from her eyes.

“Got the plan?”

“Volt on your signal for five seconds. Lock up behind me, rendezvous outside. You got your part?”

“Go in, look good, try not to die. What’s not to know.”

Josie gave him that look again. A woman could say a lot without saying anything at all.

“I’ll be fine, really,” Remy said. “The Displacers been loaded for three days. Feeling good. Franklin could probably load two or three of things without a problem. Honest, I feel good.” It might’ve been the booze talking but he actually did. He’d almost fainted the first time he tried Displacing during the Beltrider. This time would be trickier but it would go better. It had to go better..

“Alright. Come here.”

She gave him a kiss “for luck” and pushed him out the door. Remy walked back to the lift hoping it wasn’t their last.