Danny ate breakfast at a fast food restaurant just near the airport, when they'd landed. He'd given Ash the job of stealing a nice car, Stacie was checking into a hotel and Danny was supposed to be coming up with a plan to get Mickey out. Trouble was, he had no idea what they were going to do. And his large cheeseburger and banana milkshake didn't really help him, although he kept telling himself they would.
So, he decided he was going to go see Mickey.
He sent quick texts to Ash and Stacie, telling them where he was going, then lifted his hand to a passing taxi and got in it. He told the driver the name of the prison Mickey had given him, and sat, still slurping his milkshake.
He got out of the cab, after paying the driver (he didn't have time to get out of it today) and walked in.
Ten minutes later, he walked out again.
He'd walked into the reception area, a little uneasily, and asked for Michael Stone. The guard had checked some kind of computer system and it turned out that there was no Michael Stone there.
So now Danny had no idea what to do. He wasn't sure how he was going to tell Ash and Stacie that he had no idea where Mickey was. What sort of leader did that make him? He mentally poked himself.
His phone buzzed, and it was at his ear instantly.
"Hello?"
"Danny? I've booked us into a hotel," Stacie told him.
"Ok…" Danny took out a biro from his pocket and laid his left palm flat in front of him, holding the phone between his shoulder and ear so that he could use his right hand to write.
"Alright, we're at the Star City Hotel, on Pyrmont Street. You're in Room 245, under the name of Josef Carter. We're in Room 247, come over there when you're ready."
"Ok, thanks Stacie."
"See you."
Danny hung up.
He called the number he'd noted down from the side of the taxi earlier, and told them where he was. He realised how much he enjoyed listening to Australian accents.
Danny had never actually been to Australia before. He hadn't really done much travelling at all in his life. When he was younger, family holidays were limited to the same campsite in France each year. He'd been to Germany once, on a school exchange, and the only other time he'd been abroad was when he'd travelled to America to work the Hollywood sign con with Ash, Stacie and Albert. He sort of wished he'd had enough time to work up his excitement more about going to Australia, but the whole Mickey being in jail thing had kind of killed it.
He arrived at Star City Hotel at two o clock. The whole décor and beauty of it would usually have been fascinating, but Danny was so used to staying in posh hotels, and he'd lived in the Lexington for a year that it had become routine. It was still impressive, though.
He strolled over to the reception. There was a small queue in front of the desk. Danny told the receptionist he had a room reserved under the false name Stacie had given him, which he just managed to remember in time. She gave him the key without questions.
He called the elevator and waited. It came down and he stepped in. There was an operator stood, dressed in a suit and smiling falsely, by the panel of buttons.
"Fourth floor," Danny told him.
"Certainly, sir," the operator replied.
Danny stood in the elevator, happily tapping his fingers against the wall and thinking about how pointless that guy's job was. The elevator stopped and its doors slid open. He stepped out and searched for his room. He found 239, and followed the corridor down until he found 245. Danny carried on to Room 247, Stacie, who'd been put in charge of accommodation, had his luggage.
He knocked on the door once.
There wasn't an answer straight away. Danny lifted his fist to knock again, but the door swung open.
"Hey, Danny!" Ash said. He was changed from last night's suit into a loose shirt and jeans, a glass of champagne in his hand.
"Look, Ash, I need to talk to you and Stacie…"
"It can wait, come on…" Ash replied, gesturing to the doors that Danny assumed led to the balcony.
Danny shrugged, simply. "I guess it can."
He stopped and gasped as soon as he saw the balcony.
There was a small white marble table in the centre of it, four chairs around it. One of them was taken up by Stacie, who'd changed into a strappy brown dress and huge sunglasses, half filled glass in hand. She looked beautiful, but Danny didn't notice that as much as he normally would have done.
Because there, in the chair next to her, drinking champagne in the sunshine, was Mickey Stone.