The Tomorrow Heist by Jack Soren Page B

Which made Jonathan an unknown. They’d tried to call Natalie back after the voice had hung up, but the call wouldn’t go through.
    â€œYou’re right about that,” Jonathan said. He walked to the window and pulled open the bench where Lew kept his weapons stash. He took out one of the Beretta 9mms, pressed the eject button, and examined the clip.
    â€œUh, what are you doing?” Lew asked, though he knew.
    â€œThe same thing you should be doing. Getting ready,” Jonathan said as he slammed the clip back in the gun’s grip. He took a shoulder holster out of the window seat and slipped it on.
    â€œHe said no guns,” Lew said. He had to find a way to manage Jonathan, or he was going to blow this thing, including Lew’s chance to get Emily back in one piece. Not to mention Natalie, whom he loved like a niece. Lew knew he was no good at this kind of stuff. This was usually Jonathan’s forte, but right now, Jonathan was doing a pretty good Lew impression.
    â€œI think I gave you too many pills last night,” Jonathan said, staring at Lew incredulously. “Even if you buy what that guy was selling, we have no idea what happened to Natalie. I hesitated last time, and it almost got her killed.” Jonathan shoved the gun into his holster, then took another Beretta out of the window seat and held it out for Lew. “I won’t make that same mistake again.”
    â€œNo, you’re making all new ones this time.”
    â€œLew, think about it. How the hell did that guy get to Switzerland and find Natalie so quick? Hell, how did they find Emily just in time to save her from George’s men? And if they know where we are, and they have Emily, why wouldn’t they just bring her here?”
    â€œWell, because . . . because—­” Why the fuck, indeed.
    â€œIt’s a ruse,” Jonathan said. “Hell, he probably works for George! I’m not sure of all the fine points, but I do know we have to go in hard, or we’re not coming out.”
    Lew hated to admit it, but Jonathan was making sense. And walking into traps seemed to be their specialty lately. After a few more moments rationalizing, Lew sighed and grabbed the weapon. “You know those were P90s we heard in the recording. Why do you think these peashooters are going to be of any use against machine guns?”
    â€œBecause we’re going to be Han Solo this time,” Jonathan said.
    Lew just stared at him blankly.
    â€œHan Solo. You know, Star Wars ?”
    â€œHow I became best friends with a nerd is beyond me.”
    â€œWhatever. The point is, we’re going to shoot first.”
    â€œNow that reference I get.”

 
    Chapter Nine
    Toronto
    4:30 A.M. Local Time
    H ANK HAD NEVER actually been to the Toronto research facility and was fairly dazzled by the building when he walked Per in. The Crystasis Foundation’s main laboratory was housed in what had once been a steel mill on the outskirts of Toronto. The smelting hardware and blast furnaces had been replaced with state-­of-­the-­art labs. Several levels of catwalks still ran along both sides of the vast, football-­field-­sized main chamber, but now they were painted a gleaming white and washed down several times a day to avoid contaminants. Along all the catwalks were floor-­to-­ceiling glass walls with offices and small labs clearly visible. The center of the room was still wide open and almost a hundred feet from the floor to the peaked roof. Where the blast furnaces once used to run hot for months at a time, spraying molten metal high into the air, showpieces now sat—­modern art and sculptures to impress investors.
    The lab was a poster child for excess and spoke to the man who had created it. A man who, ironically, couldn’t bring himself to leave his home to visit his monstrosities. He had to settle for pictures and webcams showing him the daily routine of his