The Cocky Thief

Chapter One

"If someone dies, the deal is off. If someone gets hurt, the deal is off. If anyone finds out I hired you, the deal is off."

"This is going to be fun," said Austin dryly as he brought the shot of whiskey to his mouth.

The wet blanket—otherwise known as Scott Hart—took the drink from Austin's hand and slammed it on the bar. A few of the precious drops swished over the sides. "I need you to focus."

Austin ran a hand through his slicked-back hair and glanced into the mirror behind the bar to scan the room behind him. "I'm more focused than you could ever imagine. The only thing distracting me right now is the payday I'm missing."

"I told you. Once you get the package, you get the USB drive and a portion of the payoff."

The package. Austin didn't remember the last time he worked a job where the item he was supposed to procure wasn't explicitly stated. But Hart was different. Not only did he have major trust issues, but he happened to have something he wanted. Something he was staking his entire career on.

Well, if you could call robbing people for a living a career.

Austin once again looked into the mirror and then at his watch.

"The plane could be boarding any minute," reminded Hart.

"I'm aware." Austin took a drink of his mostly untouched water, glaring at Hart the entire time. As though even as he was following the rules, he was breaking them at the same time.

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"I'm working on it."

Hart glanced around, pointing out Austin's obvious inaction. "You're sitting on your ass."

"That is lesson number one. The best plots are the ones where you sit on your ass while everything works just the way you want it to."

As if on cue, the man Austin had been staring at in the mirror suddenly jerked in his seat. A second later, he threw some money on the table, picked up his briefcase and suit jacket before he left the bar and made a beeline for the bathroom.

"Looks like I'm on call." Austin stood. "Wish me luck." In one quick motion, he downed the rest of the whiskey before Hart could stop him. "See you on the other side."

"This had better work!" called Hart as Austin left the airport bar. He headed across the aisle quickly, but kept his strides measured as to not draw any attention. Airport jobs were some of the easiest jobs. Everyone was so focused on getting to their gate, or getting last-minute snacks, or their last-minute bathroom breaks that it was almost impossible to not blend in.

When he walked inside the bathroom, it was easy enough to find the stall where Chris Luther was currently emptying the contents of his stomach. The two other guys in the bathroom quickly left to a less disgusting place and soon enough Austin and Luther were alone. He looked at his watch. Five minutes until boarding.

He gently knocked on the stall door. "Sir? I'm with airport security. Do you need assistance?"

"No, I—" The sudden heaving sort of belied the denial.

"Why don't you open the door, sir? I want to make sure you get medical attention if required."

The door finally opened and Austin knelt. "How are you feeling? Did you eat anything questionable? Maybe seafood?"

The man sitting on the floor of the bathroom was pale and a thin sheen of sweat had broken out over his face. "I had the sushi."

Airport sushi. As much as he tried, he'd never fully understand people. "That's probably it. There's been a nasty bacteria coming in on the..."