To Have and to Heist(35)

“Proximity alert,” Anil said. “It could be a bird or a plane or . . .” His eyes widened when two tiny yellow drones came into view. “Bees!”

“Do I want to know?” I asked.

“They’re very sophisticated fully autonomous surveillance drones that automatically deploy from a Hive in response to vibrations in the air or motion on the property,” Anil said. “They know we’re here.”

“Well, don’t just hover. Get out of there.”

A third Bee buzzed past our camera, and then a fourth. Moments later we were surrounded.

Anil gave a horrified gasp. “It’s an attack.”

“Fly!” I grabbed his arm. “Fly!”

Anil flew Honey in a serpentine pattern toward the boat. A gunshot echoed across the water. Honey dropped and tilted to the side. Anil frantically pushed the joystick, his forehead a sheen of sweat. The screen went blank. High above us in the sky, Honey fought to survive, spluttering and spiraling until, finally, the brave little drone plummeted to the ground.

“Noooooooo.” Anil jumped to his feet just as three guards came running down the beach. One of them gestured to our boat.

“We need to get out of here,” I said to Emma. “I’ll pull Cristian in.”

Another gunshot cracked the silence.

“Are they shooting at the boat?” Anil was shaking, his gaze on the grass where the drone had fallen. “Why? They took out the drone. We’re no longer a threat.”

“I’m sure it was just a warning.”

Another shot. A bullet pinged off the elegant hull.

“Oh my God.” I screamed. “They are shooting at us. Who are these people? It was just a drone. Now they’re trying to kill us?”

“Emma. Get the lead out.” Gage pulled the gun from his holster. I silently rescinded my “no guns” rule and made a mental note to thank him for ignoring me.

Emma started the engine and looked over her shoulder. “What about Cristian?”

“No time.” Gage moved to the stern. “They’re getting into a speedboat. We gotta go.”

“Hang on, Cristian,” I shouted. “It’s going to be one hell of a ride.”

“No. Wait. I’ll—”

The rumble of the motor drowned out his words. Emma pushed the throttle and the boat lurched into motion.

“Holy crap,” Anil said, watching the inner tube bounce violently over the boat’s wake. “Look at Cristian fly.”

Between revs of the engine, I thought I heard Cristian scream.

“Here they come,” Gage called out. “Everyone down. This isn’t the movies. Good shooters don’t miss.”

“Why couldn’t they just have put up a No Trespassing sign?” Anil buried his face in his hands beside me on the deck. “Why couldn’t they just shout, ‘Hey, guys. This is private property. No trespassing.’ And we’d say, ‘Sorry. We were just out having a nice afternoon air tubing and fishing and eating muffins and testing our new drone. We’ll be on our way.’ Why did they have to shoot it down? What is Santa going to think when he shows up at Christmas and Honey is gone?”

“Guys like that don’t do a lot of talking,” Gage shouted over the roar of the engine.

“Guys like what?” I asked.

“Jack didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what? That they were paranoid about security? Or that the guards would be armed?” I felt a rush of anger at the man who had put us all in danger. If Jack had been here right now, I would have thrown him overboard.

“Uh . . . yeah.” He hesitated, frowning. “That they’d be armed.”

“Did you hear that, Emma?” I called out. “Jack and Gage knew the security guards would be armed but forgot to mention it.”

“Cool.”

“It’s not cool.” I rolled to my side because the floor was hard and wet and smelled like stale beer. “I don’t want to die in a speedboat shootout. I want to go home. I want to sleep in a warm bed and wake up to breakfast parathas and warm chai.”

“Get . . . meeeeeeee . . . out . . . of . . . heeeeeeeeere,” Cristian shouted, white-knuckling the handles on his inner tube as he bounced over the waves.

Multiple gunshots echoed across the water. An engine roared.

“Can’t you go any faster?” I asked Emma.

“First, I want to hear an apology for giving me a hard time for ditching the pontoon boat.” Her hair whipped across her face, her cheeks wet from the spray of the water.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Do you want me to get on my knees and grovel? Kiss your shoes? Tell me what I have to do so we don’t get killed by some overly zealous security guards who take the concept of protecting privacy to a whole new level.”

“What do you need?” she asked in a singsong voice.

I tipped my head back and groaned. “I need speed.”

“Say it like you mean it.”

“I need speed.”

* * *

◆ ◆ ◆

?I was utterly incensed when Jack casually strolled into Rose’s garage a few hours later.

“Armed guards? Seriously?” I shoved him in the chest. He had a nice chest, so it wasn’t a hardship. “Is that why you bailed at the last minute? You knew they’d come out shooting and you didn’t want to be killed? Did it ever occur to you that was information we needed to know?”