If you think I actually own any of this, you're wrong. It's the brain child of Angela Robinson and the property of Sony Pictures.

Chapter 11:

Ronnie actually allowed us a fair amount of freedom while we waited for the delivery of the diamond. Oh, he kept us on a tight leash, we had the threat of him turning me in hanging over our heads pretty much 24/7, and I'm pretty sure that he had us bugged somehow. My prints could probably be lifted from no fewer than a dozen different places in the Vault room. One anonymous call to the DEBS and our lives stateside would be effectively over.

The one thing Amy and I had going for us is that the DEBS didn't know we were here. As long as they never found out, there was at least a chance that we could slip back out of the country unnoticed.

Of course, even having the DEBS find us had its silver lining. I'd have the chance to kick Amy's ex's ass again. Something which, I'm sure, would bring me no small degree of satisfaction.

Almost worth spending the better part of the rest of my life in prison, assuming I made it that far. As far as the DEBS knew, I was a mass-murderer; not exactly the type of person to motivate them not to shoot first.

Scud was working pretty much twenty-four hour days trying to get the combination; and as the big day kept drawing closer, Ronnie was getting irritable; and he didn't have anyone to loose his frustration on.

I had to work really hard to hide my glee at the fact that Ronnie was starting to lose his cool. And I'll admit that I went about doing little things just to irritate him a little more. I don't chew bubble gum, as a general rule, but I went down to the corner store and bought a pack just because he hated the sound of bubbles popping. And just because I could, I opened one of his more expensive bottles of wine and shared it with Amy in our little room. That one had almost pushed him over the edge.

And I went out of the way to mention how little time Scud had to work out the combination to the vault at every single possible opportunity. Not that I was worried that Scud wouldn't figure it out — he would — but Ronnie didn't know that. In short, I made it my personal mission to piss him off just enough that he wouldn't actually shoot me, but he'd want to.

Funny how the number of people who want me dead always seems to climb when I'm in the states. I lived in Reykjavik for two years; and there wasn't so much as one assassination attempt. I come to LA for two weeks, and I'd been attacked on a freeway, had guns pulled on me more times than I care to keep track of, been beaten up three times, and I was already in the middle of a diamond heist. I guess everything moves a little faster in the good ol' US of A.

We kept tight surveillance on the customs house. Making sure that the guard with OCD (AKA: my new best friend) didn't suddenly start changing his routine or his schedule.

There, at least, our luck was holding so far. He wasn't scheduled to take a vacation for another month, so we'd be stuck with him on the big night.

That just wouldn't do.

Ronnie is a lot of things, but patient happens to not be one of them. As the days rolled into weeks, he started drinking a little more, sleeping a little less and acting a little less rationally; even for him.

So I was completely unsurprised when I walked into the little room he'd set up for Scud to do his work and found him pacing impatiently behind Scud.

"You hanging over my shoulder isn't going to make this work any faster," Scud commented as I walked in.

"We have two days," Ronnie said tightly, "the diamond is already in the vault, and in two days, it's going to be removed." His tone changed and became ominously threatening, "and if I can't acquire that diamond, all three of you are completely useless to me. Do I make myself clear?"

"Oh yeah, Ronnie," I said, stepping into the room, "threats are always a good way of motivating someone to work harder."

Ronnie glared at me. Wow, he really was on edge today. He slid a cellular phone out of his pocket and dialed. "Yes, I need a customs agent apprehended and interrogated," Ronnie said to whoever was on the other end.

Wait, what? "Ronnie…" I started softly.

"Yes, he's working today," he continued as if I hadn't spoken.

"Ronnie." I said sharply.

He pulled the phone away from his ear. "Back up plan," he said simply.

"You said nobody gets hurt," I told him.

"Plan's changed," he replied.

"Yeah, but I can pretty much guarantee that killing off the one customs agent that has the combination will probably tip them off," I told him.

"By the time he's reported missing, we'll be long gone," Ronnie replied. He again lifted the phone to his ear. "Yes, get the combination from him and then make it look like an accident."

"God dammit, Ronnie; no!" I yelled. "You so much as touch a hair on his head and I swear to you…"

"What?" Ronnie demanded. "You're unarmed, you have two people you would just hate to lose. I, on the other hand, have men with guns, and absolutely no compunction about ordering them to shoot all three of you."

"Nobody gets hurt," I snapped, "that was your promise to me."

"Knowing how much your promises are worth, that very statement is almost laughable," Ronnie countered.

"Lucy, what is he talking…" Amy started.

"Guys!" Scud's fist slammed down on the desk, bringing all conversation to a screeching halt. "We've got it." The printer hummed to life, and a single shit of paper slid out of it.

"Cancel that order," Ronnie spoke into the phone before he walked to the printer to snatch the image from it.

I tried not to smirk as I felt a surge of triumph rush through my body. Gotcha. But I kept my voice level as I said "make sure you put that in a safe place. There's no way Scud's gonna be able to get it for you again by tomorrow." I turned to Scud, "make sure you scrub the hard drive. We want no evidence that it ever existed."

"One hard drive purge coming up," Scud announced.

Ronnie walked over to the safe in the corner and opened it. He slid a smaller lockbox out from the bottom drawer and opened it. I imagined that was where he kept most of his more vital documents. Figures. That box was pretty much bombproof. On one of the top shelves I saw some of the more familiar works. The blueprints to the building, the technical data on the vault and vault room, and as paperweights, my lucky Beretta and Max's revolver.

I'd once heard an interview with Bobby Fischer when he claimed that he could picture a chess board twenty moves deep. Now, I don't know if he'd ever hand a chance to prove that he could, but that was pretty much where we were now. We were in the endgame. All the pieces were in place. The trap was set; all we needed to do was spring it.

-x-

"Mind telling me what that was all about?" Amy asked.

"You heard. He was gonna kill the…"

"Not that," Amy replied. She took a long breath, "I think it's time you told me about your history with this guy."

I took a long breath and let it out as I sat on the blanket we had spread out on the floor of the wine cellar. "Do you know what my first ever diamond heist was?"

"It's in your file," Amy said, "Berlin, I think."

I shook my head, "it's not in my file."

"Where was it?"

"Right here, in LA," I told her, "or at least it would've been. A blue diamond called the Star of Antarctica."

Amy's eyes widened, "you and Ronnie have tried to steal this diamond before."

I nodded. "And I've tried to steal it since; and obviously failed every time."

"So… What?"

"First time we tried, I got nabbed. The DEBS grabbed me. I don't think they knew who I was; or really at the time, who my father was. I was heir to the Reynolds Crime Syndicate, but I don't think they knew that. As far as they were concerned, I was just one of Ronnie's lackeys; so they went about trying to extract information on Ronnie from me," I explained.

Amy shuddered, the one thing I didn't have to tell her was how good the DEBS could be at extracting information.

"It didn't take much," I said. I know, it was a lame attempt to reassure her, but it was all I had at the moment. "I was eighteen, I had the choice between turning Ronnie in, or reaching my forties before I got out."

"You turned state's evidence," Amy realized.

I nodded. "An honor among thieves is a load of shit. Ever wonder how Ms. Petrie got to be in charge? She was just your everyday DEB when I first met her. The information I gave her allowed her to capture him, his number one man was shot and killed in the shoot-out. Ronnie was captured and thrown in jail. Petrie became a hero overnight for capturing the legendary Ronald Cockburn. She tried to renege on the deal we made, arguing that the information I had was worth a lot more than any promise she might have made to me. The guy in charge at the time disagreed. I was booted out on the street; Ronnie went to jail; all records of the event were wiped from the DEBS' database. As DEB operations go, I guess this was actually a pretty tidy one."

"I always wondered why she was so obsessed with catching you," Amy said idly.

"Yeah, that woman hates loose ends; and I'm a big one," I replied. "Anyway, Ronnie broke out four months later. Since then, I've worked with him a couple of times; made him a really rich man, too. I thought we were square." I shrugged. "Guess not."

"He really can nurse a grudge, can't he?"

"He's got tough nipples," I replied. "I guess in his mind we won't be square until he gets his hands on the diamond we were trying to steal in the first place."

"So that's why you kept trying to steal it," Amy added.

"Yeah," I agreed, "I don't like loose ends either. I figured that diamond was the best way to balance the scales, but failing that, I figured making Ronnie filthy rich would do just as well." I winced. "Have I mentioned lately that I'm really sorry I got you into this?"

"So why did you keep failing?"

I shrugged, "I don't know, really. Usually something just went wrong. I'm not a suspicious person, but I think the Star may be my unicorn. That big score that no matter how hard you try, you can never steal."

"And now Ronnie needs you to steal it."

"Yeah," I nodded, "he's sending me a message."

"What's that?"

"That this time, he's gonna settle the score."