The Benedict Job: a different perspective by InSilva
Disclaimer: oh, I did not write Ocean films of any number.
A/N: Er, this took a while. Wanted to get the one-shot "Tess" written first. Sorry. Am all things useless.
Chapter Twenty-one: Tess
Tuesday flew by.
Rusty watched as the lighting issues in the warehouse were resolved and then checked that Livingston and Yen were set for Thursday's little distraction. He helped Frank finish the vault doors and made sure they were lifted into place successfully. Lunch was a catch-up with Saul, ready to share Lyman Zerga with the world. There was a ten minute phonecall with Basher during the afternoon peppered with expressions that Rusty was mostly unfamiliar with and that he was almost certain were not to be repeated in polite company.
The carts and the racking were all set to lend authenticity to the fake out. Gambling chips and shrink-wrapped fake bills were waiting to be insinuated into the picture. The cameras were ready to roll.
By the time Danny appeared early evening at the warehouse, Rusty felt that if things weren't zip-a-dee-do-dah already then it was only a matter of time before that bluebird landed on his shoulder.
"Heading over to the Bellagio," he said as Danny studied proceedings. "Turk and Virgil should be in place with Saul and they'll be arriving in half an hour. Give me chance to catch up with Linus too. Find out what Benedict's been up to."
"OK," Danny nodded, his eyes on the complex lasers that Livingston was trying to set up.
"Guess he made it back from New York."
"I guess."
"I'll see you later."
"I'll be here."
Looking back, Rusty would realise that Danny didn't look at him once.
Linus looked ridiculously pleased to see him and Rusty was amused and also a little guilty. They had handed Linus the detail nearly a week ago and they had trusted him to get on with it and thought that Linus would be (should be) gratified by that. But Linus still wanted to prove himself, to show that he had a rightful place on this job. And more than anything, he wanted to prove himself to Danny and Rusty.
Rusty settled down beside him.
"Saul's checking in," Rusty checked his watch, "in three minutes."
"It's showtime, then."
"It's nearly showtime," Rusty corrected. "Still time to pull out. Still time to adapt a plan."
"In case there's a screw-up?"
"Better a screw-up before the job than during."
Lyman Zerga strode purposefully past, followed by Turk and Virgil and Rusty watched with professional pleasure as Saul showed how it was done. Damn but the man was the epitome of a good con artist.
He turned his attention back to Linus. "OK, tell me about Benedict."
Eagerly, Linus began.
"That guy's a machine. He arrives at the Bellagio every day at 2pm. Same car, same driver. Remembers every valet's name on the way in. Not bad for a guy worth three quarters of a billion. Offices are upstairs, he works hard, hits the lobby floor at seven on the nose. Spends three minutes on the floor with his casino manager."
"What do they talk about?"
Linus reeled off Benedict's micromanagement style, his attention to detail, his fluency in languages, his love of routine and control. Linus sounded a little in awe of Benedict's traits: Rusty was less overwhelmed.
Rusty listened and absorbed and they moved through the hotel as Linus elaborated. A slow steady walk that moved them past guests and staff and gamblers and there was only a slight delay as Rusty paused to acquire some shrimp.
"What?" he asked as Linus looked at him bemusedly. "Helps people see you in the dark."
Linus's mouth opened and closed and as he digested the thought, Rusty walked away, eating shrimp. He took up residence in the main atrium and waited for Linus to join him.
"Yeah…well, anyway…" Linus said and his head turned and Rusty followed his gaze. Benedict was approaching. "Like I said. A machine."
Rusty's focus was on the black folder in Benedict's hands.
"That portfolio contains the codes to all the cage doors?"
"Mmm hmm," Linus agreed. "Two minutes after they've been changed, he's got them in his hand."
Rusty ate shrimp and thought about that. He'd been hoping for some sort of latitude but it seemed that a straightforward lift from Benedict was essential. Of course, the lift would be anything but straightforward. His mind started working on that even as Linus continued, full of nervous babble.
"I tell you, you guys really can pick 'em. This guy's as smart as he is ruthless. Last guy they caught cheating in here, he not only sent him up for ten years, he had the bank seize his house and then he bankrupted his-"
"-brother in law's tractor dealership." He gave Linus a look of pure amusement. He'd heard. "I heard."
"He doesn't just take out your knees. He goes after your livelihood and the livelihood of anybody you ever met."
Oh, Rusty wanted Danny there. So very, very badly. The kid was killing him.
"You scared?" he asked.
"You suicidal?"
He grinned at Linus. "Only in the morning. Now what?"
He dug into the shrimp. Linus turned his back on him and studied the staircase.
"Now comes the girl. She comes down after him if they're in a snit."
Snit? Snit?
"Where does she come from?" Rusty wondered aloud.
"Museum up there. She's the curator."
Curator. Museum. Culture in Las Vegas? Who'd have thought? And his subconscious was screaming at him.
"Here she is," Linus sighed. "This is just the best part of my day."
Mouthful of shrimp, Rusty peered at the top of the stairs, already thinking about running a Mata Hari when the girl appeared and a hundred thoughts exploded through him at once.
Tess.
It was Tess and that meant Danny…all along…way back at the damn architects, he'd known something was…
It was Tess, now the ex-Mrs Ocean, but Danny never liked letting things go if it wasn't on his terms…
It was Tess, let's not forget, Benedict's girl, Tess who was with Terry Benedict and Terry would probably let her go as easily as he would $160 million…
It was Tess, and Danny had already gone to prison once…
It was Tess.
He had the sense to turn away and hide his face in time as she swept past. He could hear Linus blithely saying, "I still don't know if we can use her, Actually I haven't even caught her name."
"Tess," he said flatly, appetite lost. "Her name is Tess,"
Culture? In Vegas?
"Idiot!" he muttered and Linus shrank away from him unsure whether Rusty meant him, not understanding that actually Rusty was thinking of both Danny and himself, unable to decide which of them was the more dull-witted.
They walked to the warehouse in silence, Rusty striding half a pace ahead of Linus, aware that Linus was flicking glances in his direction.
Rusty was tight-lipped, not daring himself to speak, flooded with memories.
"I like her, Rusty, I like her a lot."
"What about--?"
"I'll have to have a rethink"
And Rusty feels his blood chill. That serious.
He marched down the sidewalk and the warehouse was nearly in sight.
Long and lonely awaytime. Time that had seemed like the end of laughter and lightness and love.
The sidewalk flew away under his feet.
He smiles at Tess and Tess smiles back.
"You must know lots about the skeletons in Danny's closet."
"More than you can possibly imagine."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Linus open his mouth and close it again.
Danny answers the door. It takes one look for each of them to know.
"You've been cheating on me."
"How did you find out?"
Rusty's mouth twisted mirthlessly. How indeed?
"It's necessary."
Dark eyes not meeting his.
"It is necessary for you to work without me," he repeats, emphasising the last word and does not even try to hide the fury.
The warehouse loomed large.
"Without me, who's going to watch your back?"
"I'll be careful."
"Who?"
"I'll be careful," Danny insists.
He'd said he'd be careful but he hadn't been careful enough. He'd got sloppy and Tess had found out and after what Rusty assumed was the mother of all rows although he could just as easily see it playing with a few biting words, she'd left him. Danny had gone ahead with the job anyway and the unthinkable had happened: he'd been caught. Justice had been swift and, given his past near-misses, as unsympathetic as Tess.
Danny's plans. All for nothing. Well, it wasn't happening this time.
He was as angry as he had ever been as he strode into the warehouse.
"We need to talk," he hissed at Danny.
"OK."
"Now."
Danny must have seen the fury in him for it was hard to miss. Danny's face was unreadable but he let himself be taken by the elbow and led outside, passing a bemused Linus on the way.
"Tell me this is not about her, or I am walking, I am walking off this job right now," Rusty began and he saw that Danny was considering stalling. His face tightened. How could Danny ever think that that would work?
"Who?"
"Tess," he snapped. "Terry Benedict. Tell me this is not about screwing the guy who's screwing your wife."
"Ex-wife."
"Tell me."
"It's not about that," Danny said reassuringly and with pointless deception then added with a pinch of honesty, "it's not entirely about that."
He waited. Oh, this was going to be worth hearing.
"Rusty," Danny began, "do you remember when we first got in to this business. We said we were going to play the game like we had-
"Nothing to lose." They said it simultaneously. Yeah, he remembered. Long ago and far away and before, way before Tess and prison and damn it, Danny had only just got out-
"Well, I lost something," Danny was explaining. "I lost someone."
More than one someone.
Rusty's lips tightened at that.
Don't even think about trying it.
"That's why I'm here," Danny said and his eyes were saying so much more.
Rusty ran a hand over his mouth.
"Here's the problem, now we're stealing two things and when push comes to shove, if you can't have both which are you gonna choose? And remember," and he jabbed a finger at the general direction of the fake vault behind them, "Tess does not split eleven ways."
"If everything goes to plan then I won't be the one that has to make that choice."
A plan. A plan. There was always a plan. And when he, Rusty, wasn't involved, wasn't consulted, wasn't able to work out the finer details, then there was always the chance that the plan could go wrong. He folded his arms and continued to fume.
"How'd she look?" Danny asked.
"She looked good." He didn't bother hiding his irritation.
"Thanks."
They looked at each other and Rusty felt his anger slowly melt away. Danny was smarter than this. Way smarter. He wouldn't let things get so far without…
"Explain it to me," Rusty said at last.
They were sat in Solly's, drinks and cards on the table, both leaning forward.
"Benedict is a control freak," Danny said. "Whomever he dates, he's going to make it his business to find out about their exes."
Rusty nodded slowly. From what he knew of Benedict, that made absolute sense.
"So he knows about you and if he's robbed-"
"-he's going to come looking for me, for us." Danny's face tightened. "I can't take that chance."
Rusty said nothing. He looked down at his whisky and followed Danny's reasoning through.
"So you're going to make a point of introducing yourself-"
"-and make sure I have-"
"-an alibi."
Rusty pursed his lips and ran a finger round the edge of the whisky glass. "A very convincing alibi."
"I hear Bruiser's on the payroll."
"Bruiser…" It had been some years since they'd last seen him but Bruiser was all things loyal. Yes, having Bruiser as an alibi would be a stroke of genius. Of course, with Danny identified, that would mean-
"I was going to tell you."
The words interrupted his thoughts and Rusty looked up into dark eyes full of guilt.
"I wanted to tell you. I just never found the right time."
And suddenly all the fear that Rusty had been misreading made sense.
"You said you had a plan," he pointed out. "What was your plan exactly?"
"Figured I'd ask Bruiser to let go a little. Thought I'd find her afterwards and show her what Benedict's capable of. Let her see what she should already know. That her boyfriend's more of a bastard than I'll ever be."
Rusty saw Danny waiting. Waiting and not asking. Just as he had been back at the poker game.
"I told you never to cut me out again," he reminded Danny. "I distinctly remember telling you that."
The guilt sitting opposite him went up an impossible notch.
"Do you have any idea how much it hurt?" Rusty asked in a fierce, low voice and the look he got back told him Danny had every idea. Rusty sighed.
"I'd have said yes," he muttered and took a swig of whisky.
When he looked at Danny again, he saw the guilt and the sorrow and the apology and the gratitude and the determination never, ever to screw things up again.
You will.
"Well, I'll try not to," Danny offered and Rusty smiled in spite of himself.
"We still need to pull the combinations," he said. "With you out of the picture, that leaves-" he broke off and looked at Danny. "The kid?"
"What do you think?"
Rusty rubbed his lip.
"He can do it. Under the right circumstances."
"We can talk about those." Danny checked his watch. "We should be getting back to the warehouse."
"Yeah."
They both downed their whiskies and got to their feet.
"Out of interest," Rusty said, throwing dollar bills down on the table, "when do you think the right time might have been?"
"It's hard to say with these things," Danny replied and Rusty could almost believe he was serious. "You have to pick your moment."
"There's usually nothing wrong with your timing. It's your lack of good sense that needs addressing."
That's why I've got you.
Just remember that.
They walked back to the warehouse, in silence and in step.