It took another week for Tuck to message Owen. For their next meeting the group met at a new location in an industrial district two stations away from the Gold Glow. Ad space was limited there for worker safety concerns making the streets much darker in the shadow of MARQUEZ INDUSTRIAL towers. Less ads meant less peace keepers patrolling.

  He saw Vicky first. She was sitting on a concrete block outside a warehouse, a can of EXXXTRA ENERGY BLAST in one hand, her cube in the other. She shuffled it with one hand, only looking up when gravel noisily shifted under Owen’s feet.

  “Hey,” Owen said with a wave. “This the place?” Rust coated most of the walls and weeds grew along the foundation. Windows set high on the building were covered with a coat of dust and all around the skeletons of long abandoned machines littered the property.

  “Nope,” Vicky said. “I’m just sitting here for fun.” She sipped her drink and laughed. “I’m fucking with you. This is it. Everyone else is here.”

  “Am I late?”

  “You’re not early.” She hopped off the block and chucked her drink at an old refrigerator. “Hey, before we go in I need to say something.” She tucked her hands in her jacket pockets and clicked her tongue. “I’m sorry. You know, I was going through some shit when you joined up, and I was a real cunt. So, I’m sorry about that. You really came through last time. That’s it.”

  “Thanks,” Owen said. “Does that mean we’re done with the dirty looks?”

  “We’ll see.” Vicky punched him in the arm, grinned, and nodded at the door. “Let’s go.”

  Owen didn’t know what to expect from the warehouse interior, but moving dozens of round tables and chairs weren’t at the top of the list. Tuck directed.

  “Help me with this table, lazy fucks,” Ed groaned. Owen grabbed the other end of a long table and they carried it to a wall. “’Bout time you showed up. Early is on time, on time is late.”

  “Sorry,” Owen said.

  “Don’t be sorry. Sorry is for assholes. Be on time.” Ed pointed at a pair of coolers nearby. “Set up everything in those coolers on this table. Make it look fancy like in a movie. Like something high lifers would love.”

  Owen got to work. Cheap Mega Mart soda, plastic cups, and mixtures of thin sliced meats and cheeses lined the table when he was done. It reminded him of birthday parties at the care facility. They just needed a Mega Mart super value cake to complete the illusion.

  “We having a party?” Owen asked Ed, who was busy unfolding chairs to put under tables.

  “We’re not,” Ed said. “This is the next job. Tuck will explain everything when we’re ready.” A few minutes later Tuck called the team together. They stood in a circle around a table with a diagram of the room they were in drawn on a piece of butcher’s paper.

  “First things first,” Tuck said. He looked right at Owen, a slight grin on his face. “This is Owen. Owen, that’s Naomi.” Tuck pointed at the tall woman with short dark hair who looked more like a fashion model than a freedom fighter. “That’s Ben.” He pointed at the skinny man with a blue hooded sweater. “And that’s Scott.” Scott was the biggest behind Tom and had a terminal case of peacekeeper face. “Without Owen here, we wouldn’t have found you guys. I want to acknowledge that fact. Have we acknowledged it?” The group nodded. “Good. Now for business.”

  “This is the fun part,” Ed whispered to Owen.

  “We’ve got the Ambrosia Gala coming up in a couple weeks,” Tuck said. “We all know what that is?”

  Owen cocked his head. Who didn’t know about the Ambrosia Gala? It was a ten hour event played live where the rich and famous of City Seven gathered to flaunt their wealth. Ornate dresses, stylish suits. Nothing beat out the glitz and glam of the Ambrosia Gala. Owen watched every year to see his favorite screen stars.

  “Two of us will be infiltrating under the guise of wait staff. Owen and Vicky have graciously volunteered to be those two.”

  “I didn’t—,” Owen started when a sharp poke in his back shut him up.

  “Quiet,” Ed said. “You’re being voluntold. Pay attention.”

  “This is similar to the coliseum operation,” Tuck continued. “Owen, you’ll be performing the same task. We need a jumper installed on a scratchpad. Vicky will get you that pad.”

  “Whose pad?” Vicky asked.

  “That’s the fun part,” Tuck said. He sucked his teeth. “It’s going to be one of the baby Callahans.”

  “What the fuck?” Naomi suddenly blurted out. She blinked away her shock. “You want to steal from the Callahans? That’s suicide under the best circumstances and those two won’t hold up under interrogation.” She crossed her arms and sighed. “Last time you aimed this high we lost Brad.”

  “We’ll borrow one of their pads,” Tuck said sharply. “And return it. We can’t go for mommy and daddy Callahan. Their security will be tighter than virgin on prom night.” Tom laughed.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “I didn’t go to prom,” Owen said.

  “You didn’t miss much,” Vicky said with a shrug. Everyone in the group looked at her. “What?”

  “Focus up,” Tuck said to redirect the group. We’ve got three possible targets. Jake, Amber, and Lucas Callahan. They’ll all be there showing off. I’d suggest going after Jake. He’s always surrounded by his entourage and won’t be paying much attention to anything else.”

  “Isn’t he a champion?” Tom asked. “He’s got whip quick reflexes and a mean right hook. I saw him tear apart George Rollins like shit paper.”

  “He’s also easily distracted outside the arena. He’s just an option. I think Lucas is more perceptive. I’ve seen the way his eyes move on that game show he runs. Then we have Amber. She’s the princess of City Seven so she’ll have eyes on her at all times.”

  “Won’t we stand out?” Owen asked.

  “Not really,” Ed said. “Vicky’s pretty, but she won’t stand out next to the party goers.”

  “Thanks,” Vicky said flatly.

  “And Owen is one of the most non-descript people I’ve met.” Tuck crossed his arms as he nodded at Owen. “You two are the best for the job. We’ll work on getting your uniforms, but until then you’ll need to learn how to play the part. Naomi will be in charge of that. She used to run scams around the high lifers. She understands these parties better than any of us.”

  “Thank you, Tuck,” Naomi said. “You two follow me.” She gestured at a pair of serving trays. “Pick them up.” She taught them the proper way to hold the trays and how to walk. One hand held the bottom of the tray and it stayed above shoulder height at all times. Then they practiced with cups of soda and made a mess. Owen’s shirt and pants were soaked with LEMON SODA DRINK and Tom’s laughter echoed through the warehouse. “It’s a good thing we have time to practice.”

  Owen’s routine changed again. He trained in serving the rich and powerful in the mornings, Hardknuckle in the evening. It was usually just Owen, Vicky, and Naomi in the warehouse. Occasionally the other members of the team served as obstacles to maneuver around. The simulated gala space was Owen’s new dojo and Naomi his sensei. In a way she was worse than Dan. Every mistake Owen made was corrected harshly. She screamed at him more than the head of the care facility, but when Vicky made a mistake she was gentle.

  “We can’t fuck this up,” Naomi said to Owen after he managed to drop a tray of sandwiches that was stacked into a pyramid. She bumped into him on purpose to test his reflexes and balance. “If you do this during the mission you’ll be thrown out of the gala. We can’t have that, so shape up!” She grabbed a pack of cigarettes from a table and stormed outside.

  “Shit,” Owen said to himself as he cleaned up tiny sandwiches.

  “I think you’re still allowed to eat them if it’s only been a minute,” Vicky said. She stood behind him with a plastic bag. “Don’t take Naomi’s attitude personally. She’s going through some bad shit.”

  “She’s not in prison anymore.” The rest of the team treated Owen with some respect. He’d been the one to help her out of the prison transport. He got the info to earn her freedom!

  “No, but her brother’s dead and you’re his replacement.”

  “Brad was her brother?” Owen understood some of her anger now. She was reminded of her brother’s murder every time she looked at his dumb face.

  “Yeah,” Vicky said with a sigh. “You have some pretty big shoes to fill. I’m not worried anymore, but she’s a lot harder to impress.” Vicky pulled up a pair of chairs and sat. “You’re getting better. A little more practice and you’ll have it.”

  “I could teach you how to install the jumper faster than I can learn this.”

  “I don’t think so. I never had any talent for electrical. That was all Brad.” Vicky smiled. “I met him at my job.”

  “You worked in tech?”

  “Hamburgers,” Vicky said. “I was a waitress at Quality One Burgers. Got Brad at one of my tables. He was sitting there wearing that green jacket and messing with an old scratchpad. I thought he was cute. He started coming in every Tuesday, right after the lunch rush. It was always the best part of my day. One day he asked for my info and that was it. I was head over heels in love. Do you know what that’s like?”

  “No,” Owen admitted. “I’ve never been in love.” The brutal schedule of his life didn’t leave much room for it.

  “It’s nice, until it fucking sucks.” Vicky balanced her chair on two legs. “And when it sucks, it really fucking sucks.” Vicky quickly wiped her cheek. “They left us. Did you know that?”

  “Who?”

  “Tuck and the others,” Vicky scoffed. “Me and Brad got stuck pulling some data from a server. I still don’t know what it was for, but I guess we got clocked on camera and after a few minutes we’re neck deep in PKs. The rest of the team got out quick, but me and Brad got stuck. A PK zapped him with a baton. He held it to his chest for ten seconds. Shorted Brad’s heart right out.” Vicky stopped, and then she held up her hands. “Ten seconds. That’s all it takes to lose someone you love.”

  “You don’t need to—,”

  “I do.” Vicky sniffled, but she didn’t cry. “I haven’t talked to anyone about it. Um, fuck, where was I? Right. I still had the pad with the data and I’m fucked hard. Brad’s dead and I know it. He isn’t Brad anymore, he’s just this thing laying there. The PKs don’t look like they’re interested in taking prisoners. I just closed my eyes and waited.”

  “What happened?”

  “Ed showed up.”

  “He came back for you?”

  “I wish. He came back for the data.” Vicky snickered. “I’ve never been much use to the team. I came with Brad and Naomi, and without him I don’t really have a place.”

  “You cut the others out.”

  “Anyone could’ve worked the cutter,” Vicky admitted. “And I almost got you caught, don’t forget that. I’m a fuck up, Owen. But I was a pretty good waitress. You’re getting the hang of it. I trust you.”

  “What?” Owen said. He never heard that in his life. Trust didn’t exist in City Seven. Everyone was out to use everyone else. Owen was only working for the group because he was initially forced to. She didn’t know him. But he didn’t think she was lying. There was sincerity in her words and in her eyes. She trusted him. “Um, thanks.”

  “Right.” Vicky hopped up and grabbed a tray. “Let’s keep practicing.”

  Owen nodded and joined her. They didn’t have much time before the gala and they had a lot of work to do in the meantime.

  In those two weeks something shifted in his relationship with Vicky. She wasn’t the standoffish woman he first met in the soda bar. Spending time with her training for their mission reminded Owen of his time at the Care Facility with Mandy. He forgot what it was like to have a friend in the years since. Vicky trusted him. So Owen made a decision against his low life instincts and trusted her.