Connor

Johnny was as good as his word. We were standing on the tarmac loading our gear inside of three hours.

Five of us were standing by the plane: me, Johnny, Bert, and my two remaining bodyguards, Juan and Leo. Four of us were going. But I had to give them one last chance to back out.

“You don’t have to do this,” I told them. “I’ll pay you handsomely if you do – three million dollars apiece, and that goes for you, too, Johnny – but I’ve got to tell you, there’s maybe a ten percent chance we come out of this alive.”

“Twenty percent at least,” Johnny said in a deadpan voice. “Don’t be pessimistic.”

“No matter what, it’s still shitty odds. You can walk away now and I won’t say a thing.”

Leo shrugged. “Danger’s part of the job. I’m going wherever you’re going.”

Juan grinned. “I was a Navy SEAL, sir. Frankly, this job’s been pretty damn boring till tonight.”

“You people are insane,” Bert muttered.

“A good time with a three million dollar payday?” Juan asked. “That sounds pretty sane to me.”

“T