The three heisters planned all through the day and late into the evening. When they became hungry again, they ordered takeout. Jacket had a menu with his favorites circled on it. Dallas ordered the food over the phone, and when they had finished eating, he made sure to throw it away, along with the rotting food on Jacket's kitchen counter.

When the yawning began, Dallas knew it was time to pack up and head home. Before this, however, he wanted to try once more to get Jacket to speak. The blond man silently yawned and stretched, and rubbed his eyes with his rough hands, which tended to be bandaged tightly during heists. He went into his shabby bathroom and shut the door.

"Dude, we should have taken his toilet paper! He'd probably talk then, asking us to bring him some. Well, maybe not- he'd just come out wearing one sock!" Wolf laughed at himself as Dallas pulled out his cellphone. He dialed his trustworthy operations manager. "Bain, I need a favor," he said.

When Jacket came out of the bathroom, Dallas handed him the cellphone. "Bain wants to talk to you," he said. Jacket took the phone and put it up to his ear.

"Jacket, I'm in a bit of jam. I'm the only who had access to that Commissar case at the motel, but it seems I've lost the files. I need your personal account of what happened," Bain said, rolling his eyes at Dallas's stupid request to have him get Jacket to talk.

Jacket said nothing. Dallas and Wolf looked on eagerly. After a moment of staring ahead plainly, Jacket went into his bedroom. He returned a moment later with a Pear laptop, which Dallas wondered if he had lifted from the Pear Store during a heist. Jacket set it on the table and opened it. Dallas and Wolf watched over his shoulder as Jacket selected a file. It was labeled, "Commissar Motel." He dragged it into an e-mail, then handed the cellphone back to Dallas and went to the living room.

"Hello? Jacket, are you th- wait, I got an e-mail." Bain opened the e-mail on his end. It was from Jacket. "Hold on, what the- how did you get my private e-mail address?! And how did you get a copy of my file?! Jacket, who gave you-" Dallas hung up the phone, then stared in awe at Jacket, who plopped down on his old sofa and clicked on the television.

Wolf whistled low. Jacket knew things even Dallas did not know, which Wolf thought was both really unnerving and really bada**.

Dallas gritted his teeth. Not only did Jacket prove he was a better agent than him in this right, but he embarrassed Dallas without even saying a word.

"We'll see you Friday for the heist, Jacket." Dallas pulled his keys from his pocket and moved to the door.

"Jacket, you're amaz-"

"Let's GO, Wolf," Dallas said, flustered and opening the locks on the door.

Jacket waved halfheartedly as his two partners left the apartment.

"Well, that was a bust," Wolf said buckling up in Dallas's car.

Dallas turned on the radio and listened to slow country all the way to Wolf's home, hoping the music would dissuade Wolf from chattering incessantly, but it did not. After the Swede had left the vehicle, Dallas's mind raced with questions about Jacket. Why did he not speak? How did he manage to get into Bain's files? Who were they really dealing with here? It brought to mind a slight sense of distrust, as with Dragan, but the Payday Gang had no knowledge of Jacket's past, so they had no reason to doubt him. Dallas shrugged off this uneasiness and set his thoughts back on the heist. This business of getting Jacket to speak would have to wait. There were more pressing matters at hand.