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Bosco straightened his bowtie. “I want to go on record and say that I personally hate this idea.”
June side-eyed him. “Yes, you’ve made that incredibly clear.”
“I just think that no one is ever going to buy it… like I’m an actor, but I’m not that good.”
“Even if I did believe that,” Charlie said, walking up to him and making sure the earpiece was positioned in Bosco’s ear so that it couldn’t be seen from the outside, “You two do look alike.”
Bosco scoffed. “We most certainly do not.”
June walked around to the front of him, nudging Charlie out of the way. She placed her hands on his shoulders and made a point of examining him. “Yep, same curly hair, same eyes, same egotistical narcissistic tendencies-”
“Now hang on a second,” Bosco protested.
June stopped him. “I say tendencies, not that you were a narcissist.” She placed her hand on his cheek. “Trust me when I say, this will work.”
Bosco pouted at her. “I just don’t get why Charlie and Atlas couldn’t pretend to be related.”
Charlie narrowed his eyes at him and tilted his head. “So I would say that there are considerably more differences between me and Atlas than between you and him. Just face it, buddy.” He gave him one last look over. “For the next few hours, you are Bosco Atlas.”
Bosco groans. “God, it even sounds awful.”
June puts her hands on her hips. “Why are you playing this up so much?”
“What do you mean?”
June shrugs. “Like I get that you and Atlas got off on a bit of a rocky start, but I thought the two of you had… I don’t know, bonded or something.”
Bosco just shrugs.
June continues. “I mean like me and Jack. Yeah, it was a little heavy on the competition at first, but now we get along great. He’s even taking me to visit some of his favorite spots in the city.”
“And me and Henly,” Charlie adds, “she invited me over to her house to like meet her family.”
Bosco shrugs again. “I don’t know, me and Atlas I just aren’t like that.”
Charlie points at him, “And is that your fault or his?”
“Meaning?” Bosco frowned.
June laughs at him. “Meaning that you can be sort of an ass sometimes, dude.”
Bosco crosses his arms. “I can not.”
“You totally can.” Charlie agrees.
“Even if that were true, I was nice enough to Atlas when we met, but he just kept pushing me.”
“And you totally let him.” June pointed out.
“Listen,” Bosco spread out his hands, “I think we just have to come to the reality that not all of us are going to get along. I’ll start being friendly with him, but I doubt it will change anything.”
Charlie squinted his eyes at him. “You’re going to be nice to him?”
Bosco holds up two fingers. “Scouts honor. After all, he’s supposed to be playing,” he pauses and swallows, acting as if the words themselves hurt him, “my loving father.”
Charlie and June look at him, and he sees a soft expression come across both their faces. “Hang on, is that why you hate this so much?” Charlie asks.
Bosco turns to him. “Listen, as much as I would love to start opening up about dear old dad right now, that is so not a conversation I want to have.”
Charlie looks like he might want to push it, but June stops him. “Just try and get along. And be safe. Remember, it’s only for a night.”
-
Atlas checks his bow tie in the mirror for the hundredth time before Jack calls him out on it. “It hasn’t changed since the last time you checked it thirty seconds ago, man.”
Atlas frowns at him through the mirror. “Sorry if I want to make sure I look professional.”
Jack scowls at him. “Seriously, what is wrong with you?”
“Wrong?” Atlas turns to him, “There’s nothing wrong with me.”
“I haven’t seen you this nervous before a trick in years, dude.”
“Well, sorry if being told I have to play father to a twenty-something-year-old kid is making me feel a little self-conscious.” He tries.
“We both know that’s not it.”
Atlas tilts his head, “I thought reading people was Merritt’s thing.”
“I’ve known you for twelve years, I know when something’s bothering you.”
“Twelve years, but most of that time was spent apart while you lived your dreams out performing tourist tricks on party boats.”
“Ah, see, I also know that when you want to deflect, you play asshole and hope that the other person will get distracted. But that won’t work on me, seriously, what’s up?”
Atlas sighs and opens his mouth, then closes it. “I don’t know how to say it without sounding stupid.”
Jack sits down and puts his head in his hands. “Try me.”
Atlas sighs again and starts pacing. “I’m not really bothered about the age thing, I mean, there is a nineteen-year age difference between us, I knew that this might be a cover option eventually.” He looks at Jack, “I may be slightly egocentric, but even I know I’m no spring chicken anymore.”
“Slightly?” Jack asks with a smirk. Atlas just side eyes him. “Right, sorry, I’m listening.”
“It’s just… God with this kid… he just… frustrates the hell out of me.” Atlas finishes. “I see so much potential in him, but he doesn’t listen. Not only does he not listen, but he’s brash, he’s sarcastic, and he doesn’t give a damn for his own safety.”
Jack whistles. “Wow.”
“Wow, what?”
“Nothing, just,” Jack smiles, “he reminds me a lot of someone I met twelve years ago.”
Atlas frowns. “I was not like that.”
“Danny, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you sure as hell were.”
“Great.” He flops his arms, “So Bosco is me.”
Jack nods, “A young you.”
“So what, is that why we aren’t getting along?”
“That may have something to do with it.” Jack agrees. “But also, if I may, let me ask you a question.”
“Yeah?”
“Have you actually tried to get along with the kid?”
Atlas sputters. “Of course I have!”
Jack narrows his head at him. “I mean, really tried.”
“Yes!”
Jack shakes his head. “So, I took June to an escape room. Henley invited Charlie over for a family dinner. Hell, even Lula took Bosco to a gore makeup store in the city. What have you done?”
“I-“ Atlas stops and crosses his arms. “I… I…oh!” He snaps his fingers. “We went grocery shopping together last week.”
Jack raises his eyebrow at him. “You went grocery shopping?”
“Yes,” he said, nodding, “the kids were out of cereal, so we went together to get more.”
“That was your big bonding excursion?” Jack rubs his face with his hands. “Jesus Christ, Danny.”
Atlas has the nerve to look confused as to why Jack is reacting the way that he is. “We went somewhere… together. Is that not what you wanted me to do with them?”
Jack throws his hands in the air. “I wanted you to like… take him to a magic shop or do a tour of the city with him, not take him to run your errands for you.”
“Well, mine was a lot more practical.”
“Yes, while it may have been practical, the whole point was that you go out of your way to do something with him. To show that you care.”
“He knows I care.”
“Does he?”
Atlas actually stopped what he was doing. He looked at Jack. “Of course he does. Right?”
Jack grabbed his shoulders. “You’re helpless, buddy.” Atlas looked back at him, about to say something, but Jack cut him off. “I’m going to go make sure the youths are ready; you do some introspection.”
-
By the time they all finished getting ready, Bosco had to admit that there were some similarities between him and Atlas. Not that he would ever say it.
They were going to a ‘Legacy Ball’, which, as far as Bosco was concerned, was just a way for a bunch of narcissists to show off that said, “Look! Even my offspring are great”! Essentially, if you were super rich and wealthy as a parent and had a kid who was even someone rich and wealthy as well, then the two of you came to this stupid fancy ball to talk about how rich and healthy you were.
The whole thing was a fundraiser for their mark, an incredibly unethical and shady science/pharmaceutical company. The company, supposedly working to develop technology to help prevent genetic diseases, was actually a front for a drug-smuggling corporation that took advantage of investors.
The Eye had sent the Horsemen after them, and for some reason, deemed the Legacy Ball as the best way in. Which of course meant that he and Atlas were now here playing loving dad and begrudging prodigy… as fun as that sounded to everyone involved.
Henley is back home with the family. She seemed very amused at the whole prospect of the fake family situation, but had a family situation of her own; she said she couldn’t miss.
Lula and Merrit were doing their own special thing for The Eye, something about training and helping younger magicians, but honestly, Atlas had stopped paying attention when he realized that it would be just him and Jack supervising the youths, and oh yeah, Bosco is his son.
His first reaction to the news was a mathematical one. As much as they like to joke about his status as, to quote June, “elderly”, there was only a nineteen-year age difference between the two of them.
Finding some sort of cover for the two of them took much more time than it probably needed to. They decided on, after a lot of jesting and teasing from the others about various embarrassing enterprises the two of them could pull off, that they would go with ‘an incredibly successful crypto start-up’.
Jack drove Atlas and Jack in the limousine, June and Charlie already inside and pretending to be part of the wait staff. Jack grinned at the two of them frowning in the back seat. “Come on, you two! Show some happy faces! Father, son bonding time!”
Atlas gave his best sarcastic smile, and Bosco just pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look,” Atlas said, noticing him, “I don’t like this either. Just try and… I don’t know, think of a pleasant moment that you had with your dad or something. It can’t be that hard to channel.”
Bosco just gave him a look. “You have no idea.”
Atlas was about to respond, but there was something in Bosco’s face that made him stop. If he thought about it, he really knew nothing about Bosco’s family.
He knew about Charlie’s (obviously), and June, despite her best attempts to prove otherwise, came from a moderately successful financier in the Northeast with a public Facebook page. Atlas knew that she still kept in contact with them. Atlas knew that Charlie was in contact with his old foster family, but the only thing he knew about Bosco’s family was that he didn’t know anything about them.
While June and Charlie would casually drop hints about their childhood situations, Atlas had just now realized that Bosco never had. Not even a casual “oh my mom liked this” or “one time my dad and I went here.”
“Right well…” Atlas wasn’t really sure how to open up that conversation now, not when they were about a minute away from entering, and Jack was sitting up front. “Just try your best, and I’ll do the same.” Bosco turned away from him, and Atlas could see the deep breath he took. Atlas decided to go for it and softened his voice. “You take the lead. Whatever you’re comfortable with, I've got you.”
Jack made a surprised look back at him, not used to the display of gentleness. Bosco, too, looked surprised, but Atlas just managed his least threatening smile. “I got you.” He reaffirmed, and to his relief, Bosco nodded.
“Alright, you two,” Jack cut in from the front, still eyeing Atlas, “this is your spot. Remember the plan, I’ll see you soon.”
Bosco nodded. “Right. See ya.”
As Bosco got out of the car, Jack caught Atlas’s eyes again in the rearview mirror. Jack was smiling at him. “Oh, shut up.” Atlas said as he shut the door on him.
As soon as Atlas stepped out of the car, he caught up to Bosco. “Okay, remind me of what our company is.”
Bosco side-eyed him. “Is this for you to remember, or are you testing me?” He asked as they walked up the steps to the large venue. There were others around them, not many but still enough that Atlas kept his voice low. “A little bit of both.”
“You’re David and Bobby Anderson,” he said, gesturing first to Atlas and second to himself, “father and son inventors of Phoenix Crypto Consolidated.”
“And why have none of these fine guests heard about us before?”
“Because,” Bosco had to physically prevent himself from rolling his eyes, “we only cater to select personnel.”
“Select personnel like…”
“Like Dennis Horace, and Co., otherwise known as…”
Bosco and Atlas stopped as they entered the ballroom. It was grand, that was for sure, and by Atlas’s quick estimate, there must have been around three hundred people in there. As he surveyed the crowd, he was struck by how odd it was that half of the crowd was related to each other. He was even more put off by the fact that you could automatically tell.
Bosco took a gulp and finished. “Our wonderful host for the evening.”
Atlas looked at him. “Right. Let’s get this party started.”
-
The plan is a simple one. Bosco and Atlas would schmooze their way to Horace, convince him to invest in their fake company, and then use that information to get into his pharmaceutical company and obtain and then make public all the evidence.
It was, admittedly, incredibly basic. Charlie and June would help make sure that Atlas and Bosco got access to Horace, while Jack would be listening on the other end for any personal information Horace leaked in the meantime.
The crowd was larger than they had anticipated it would be, so it became harder and harder to keep track of where Horace was at any given time. Bosco and Atlas decided to split up and see if they could find him that way.
Bosco was nearing his wits’ end. As much as he enjoyed his job (and was good at it, thank you very much), schmoozing with rich people all night long with no end in sight wasn’t really something he enjoyed doing. He decided to pass the time by having another drink and walked up to the bar.
June, or whoever her name was this time, gave him a quizzical look. “Are you sure you need another one?”
Bosco gave her a look. “Yes. Trust me. I am actually showing great restraint by not jumping across the bar right now.”
June just rolls her eyes at him, but a new voice from behind cuts in. “I might join you in that.” Bosco turns slowly, and a girl comes up next to him and takes a seat. She’s got a drink in her hand, and she smiles at him. “Alexandra.” She says while reaching a hand out to him. “And I hate these parties too.”
June raises her eyebrows at him, and Bosco pretends not to notice her. Instead, he turns back to Alexandra. “And yet you’re here.” He points out.
She grins. “And so are you.”
“What fine old person are you related to?”
She averts her eyes, and Bosco can tell she’s being dramatic about it. “You don’t know?” She asks.
Bosco leans in, playing with the bit. “No, really, I’m clueless.” He rests his head on his hand. “Why don’t you help me out?”
He can see June’s eye roll out of the corner of his eye, but apparently it’s working because Alexandra leans in. “I’ll give you a hint…. Look around.”
Bosco does, and suddenly it clicks. He turns back to her. “You’re Alex Horace?”
She grins. “The one and only.”
“I thought you were… well, you’re obviously no,t but I thought you were…”
“A boy?”
“Well, when I got the invite on behalf of Dennis, and Alex Horace one automatically assumes, I suppose.”
“Well…” she smirks, “you know what they say about assuming.”
“No, I don’t,” he replies with a grin of his own, “but I know I have a great one.”
Bosco knows better, but he swears he can even hear June’s eye rolls now.
He is hamming it up a bit, but it did come as a genuine surprise that Alex was… Alexandra. They had tried to do research into the Horace family, but all records, pictures, and information regarding the Horace family had been wiped. The only information they knew about the Horace heir was the name Alex; everything else was unknown. They had made an assumption, a stupid one now that Bosco is thinking about it, but he figures it will be worth it if he can get them an in. Two minutes ago, they didn’t even know if Horace was actually even at the party, but now he’s got the proof sitting across from him.
Incredibly, Alexandra seems to like him. “You’re funny.” She tells him. “Most people at these things aren’t.”
“And here I was under the impression you didn’t go to a lot of them.”
She shrugs. “I dabble here and there. I go when dear old dad asks me to attend.”
“Ah, the man of the hour.”
“Have you met him yet?”
“I haven’t had the pleasure.”
She shrugs. “I’m not sure if pleasure is the right word.”
Bosco’s eyebrows go up. “No love lost between you and the old man, then?”
She turns to him. “Let’s just say my father and I have a complicated relationship.”
“Ah,” Bosco says, pointing at her, “another thing the two of us have in common.”
Her eyes light up at that, and Bosco can tell he went the right direction. If there’s one thing rich people like, it’s to complain. “He’s just… he wants me to be him so bad, you know? I never feel like I’m my own person when I’m around him. I just feel like I have to be constantly performing, constantly proving myself.”
Bosco finds the memories appearing before he can stop them. Atlas, standing in front of him at the manor in France, was demanding that he perform for him. Atlas, essentially calling him worthless over and over and over again. Atlas, his demand he prove he doesn’t need a ‘babysitter’.
“Yeah,” Bosco finds himself agreeing surprisingly honestly, “no, I get it. My dad is the same way. No matter what I do, no matter what I accomplish, it never seems good enough. I try to show him, prove that I am capable, that I deserve some respect. Sometimes I think he can’t get past the fact that I’m not him, you know? Like, that I’m different from him and that doesn’t mean our relationship isn’t good… just that it’s different. ”
She glares at him. “That’s it… Exactly.”
Bosco rubs the back of his neck. “I shouldn’t be complaining, but yeah, I do understand.”
Alexandra sighs. “It’s nice to know I’m not alone. You have no idea how many of these rich assholes actually get along with their parents… well, either get along or are too scared to talk shit.”
Bosco laughs and shakes his head. “I’m never afraid to talk a little trash about my old man.”
She fully turns to him and looks him up and down. “Seriously, though, why have I not seen you around before?”
Bosco shrugs. “My dad and I are relatively new to the game. This is our first big outing.”
She squints at him. “If it is your first, then you should meet my dad.”
Bosco straightens. “Seriously?”
She smiles. “Seriously. Go find your pops and meet me back here in ten.”
She jumps up from the bar, and Bosco cannot believe his good luck. He brings his cuff to his mouth, pretending to scratch his ear. “Did you guys hear that?”
He hears the brief second of static before the reply in his ear.
“We heard everything, dude.” Charlie’s voice says in his ear.
Bosco takes a breath. If they all heard that, then-
“I’ll be there in two.” Atlas chimes in.
Well shit.
-
If Atlas was at all bothered by what Bosco said, he couldn’t tell. Atlas was true to his word, appearing beside Bosco at the bar about two minutes after.
“Nice job getting our host’s attention.” He said as he slid next to him.
Bosco shrugged, “She literally just came to me.”
“Still.”
It’s silent between them, and Bosco doesn’t like it. “What I said before… You know it wasn’t about you, right?”
Atlas’s eyes snap towards him, and if Bosco didn’t know any better, he would say he looked… hesitant. Nervous even. “No, why would I assume that?”
“No reason, I just… You know what, never mind.”
The silence descended upon the two of them again and stayed until Alexandra returned with Dennis Horace in tow.
Both Bosco and Atlas straightened. Atlas stuck out his hand. “Mister Horace, it’s honestly a pleasure to meet you.”
The man shakes Atlas’s hand. He’s more intimidating than in his photos; that’s one of the first things that Bosco notices. Dennis Horace is tall, big, and Russian, looking more like a hockey player than the owner of a pharmaceutical company. He wonders if Atlas thinks the same thing. If he did, it didn’t show on his face.
“Ah, yes, welcome,” Horace says. His accent is thick. Eastern European, classic bad guy-sounding voice. My daughter tells me that this is your first time at one of our gatherings.”
Atlas nods. “Yeah, it is. I’m David Anderson, and this is my son…”
He gestures to Bosco, and Bosco sticks his hand out. “Bobby.”
Alexandra looks pleased as she gazes between the two of them. “I was just telling my father about our conversation.”
Bosco stiffens. “About what part?”
“The part where we both said we can’t stand these parties.”
Atlas looks back and forth between the two of them. “No, I’m sure my wonderful son here didn’t mean-”
To both Atlas and Bosco’s surprise, Horace laughs. “No, no, don’t fret. I feel the same about these gatherings. My media people say it is good for the brand, show families supporting families, blah blah blah. I find these events and the people here boring.” He looks back and forth between Bosco and Atlas. “But my daughter says that you two might not be boring.”
Bosco raises an eyebrow at her. “She said that?”
She grins back at him and then turns to her dad. “We should sneak away, somewhere quiet. That way, we can properly meet our new friends.”
Bosco and Atlas look at each other. This was a part of their plan. Get Horace separated from everyone else, get a few drinks in him, and some answers to some questions.
Jack and Charlie were waiting on the other end of the comms, waiting for the answers to some questions, so they could use it to get into his accounts. It’s an old trick, one of the first big ones they ever did, but Atlas figures that if it isn’t broke then there’s no reason to fix it.
While they did that, they would also record his answers, something that June could then use to help her break into his home office. Charlie had pulled the schematics for the safe in the office, and besides a pretty impressive normal lock and key, it had a voice recognition aspect to it. Once they got what they needed, Atlas and Bosco could make some excuse, walk out the front door, and that would be the last time Dennis Horace saw them until their dramatic reveal scheduled for tomorrow. It was a simple plan, but often Atlas found that the simple ones had the highest success rate.
So they needed this conversation to happen, and ideally in a quiet location. But something about it, maybe it was the ease with which it happened or the fact that they were the ones that were approached, something about it doesn’t sit right with Atlas. He’s been doing this for a while now, and generally it’s never this easy.
After looking at Bosco, he can tell that the kid is probably thinking the same thing. It’s confirmed when he starts speaking, with an edge to his voice. “Oh, we really don’t want to take up too much of your time.”
Horace shoos them with his hand. “Nonsense, I always have time for new friends, especially ones my daughter likes. She is picky, that one.”
Bosco is about to open his mouth again, but Alexandra speaks first. “Alright then, follow me.” And with that, she starts walking, Horace gesturing for them to follow.
Bosco looks to Atlas, almost like he is looking for confirmation on whether or not he should keep moving. Atlas feels a certain pressure then, one that he hasn’t felt in a long time. It’s the feeling of being responsible for someone other than himself for once.
He had that feeling before, in the early years of the Horsemen, but it became clear pretty soon that although he was the de facto “leader” of the group, each of the Horsemen could very well look after themselves.
Realistically, logically, he knows that Bosco, June, and Charlie can take care of themselves, too. Hell, they pulled a “even impressive by his standards” trick right under their noses and handled it just fine, but for some reason, Atlas still feels the need to protect them. To take care of them. Yes, Dylan’s imprisonment was all a big lie (which, as much of a relief as it is, it still pisses him off), but the guilt he had for ten years about it still lingers.
So he feels that pressure now, feels uncertainty climbing up in his mind for the first time in a long time.
Bosco must have seen it (because of course he does), and so Bosco gives him a small but sure nod, and Atlas nods back. He can do this. They can do it. Trap or not.
So Atlas takes a step forward, and Bosco follows him.
It’s June’s voice that goes over their coms. “You guys feeling a little weirded out by how easy that was, or is it just me?”
A hint of static and Charlie’s voice is next. “Yeah, something is off.”
Jack sounds out of breath. “Just make sure you guys stay in the building. I’m going around just to make sure there’s no surprises. We got you.”
Alexandra leads them to the kitchen and then goes through another door. “Wow, that looks tasty,” Bosco says, grabbing an orderve, and Atlas knows he’s doing it to let the others know where they’re being led to. He’s got to hand it to him, the kid is smart.
Alexandra turns to him and smiles. “Only the best for our esteemed guests.”
Horace speaks up from behind them. “I fly in the best chefs from around the world for these events. One of the only good parts.”
Alexandra leads them through another corridor and to a door that leads to an office of sorts. There are black leather chairs and a long black couch that all sit in front of a giant wooden desk. Bosco and Atlas stand in the middle of the room, and Alexandra flops down in one of the chairs. “Please, sit.” She says as Horace begins pouring them all drinks.
“This is a nice little setup you have here,” Atlas observes.
“Yes, well, I make sure that every hosting location has a small office. I hate the dress up, but sometimes I get to use these things for business.” He hands Bosco and Atlas a drink. “Speaking of which, tell me yours.”
Atlas sets his drink on the table next to him. “We’re in the crypto industry.”
Horace sits next to Alexandra. “Isn’t everyone nowadays?”
Atlas smiles. “Yes, but not everyone is like us.”
“And what makes you different?”
Atlas leans back. “Let’s just say we offer a… particular set of services to a particular group of clients.”
Alexandra smiles in her chair. “See, Daddy, I told you they would be fun.”
Horace just grins at her and then turns to Atlas. “And do you think that my daughter and I would be considered… how do you say… one of these particular groups of people.”
Atlas takes a sip of his drink. “Depends on what type of people we’re talking about here.”
Horace laughs. “You’re good. I am interested, but I don’t do business with people I don’t know. Tell me about yourselves.”
Atlas smiles. “Of course.” He puts his hand on Bosco’s shoulder. “My wife and I had Bobby here at a young age.”
“Obviously,” Alexandra says, looking him up and down while she takes a sip of her whiskey.
Bosco frowns. “Gross.”
Alexandra looks at him. “Don’t worry, babe, I still have my eye on you.”
Bosco squints and looks back at Atlas, seemingly for help. Atlas just shrugs and continues on. “Bobby’s mom died when he was young, so I went looking for a job to support the two of us.”
Horace nods and lifts his drink towards him. “Good fathers do what they can to protect their children.”
Atlas turns to Bosco. “Yeah. They do. And I would do anything to make sure that Bobby had everything he needed.” The severity of Atlas’s tone surprises Bosco, and he finds himself having to look away. Atlas clears his throat. “I got involved in coding, then in hacking, then in crypto. I found that it makes a lot more money to bend the rules than to play by them.”
“What is the old American saying? Crime doesn’t pay?” Horace asks playfully.
Atlas grins. “In our case, it pays very, very well.”
“And your son,” Horace says, gesturing to Bosco, “you let him join you? Despite the risks?”
“You’re assuming he gave me an option.” Atlas fires back easily.
Bosco shrugs. “I was a very persuasive child.”
Horace grins. “Hard to say no to your only child, yes?”
“That’s why I get whatever I want.” Alexandra chimes as she winks at Bosco.
He can’t help himself from nervously looking at Horace, who just shrugs and then laughs. “Unfortunately, she is right.”
There’s a lull in the conversation, so Atlas takes his shot. “So, Horace, what about you?” He asks. “How did you get into the business?”
Horace grins and shakes his head. “No, you don’t want to hear that story. It’s very long and boring.”
“And I hate being bored,” Alexandra adds. “We should make this more entertaining.” She looks between the two of them. “How about… how about you show us a magic trick?”
Atlas feels his blood go cold. “Magic trick? I’m afraid my skills are with computers, not cards.”
Horace ticks. “That’s too bad. Perhaps the boy?”
Bosco swallows. “I could maybe do a card trick.” Atlas has to hand it to him; his voice doesn’t give anything away despite the fact that Atlas knows he probably feels as panicked as he does right now. If they know who we are…
Alexandra leans forward. “No… see, I think you can do a lot more.”
Bosco looks at Atlas. “I assure you I can’t.”
“It’s such a shame…” Horace says, “I simply cannot stand liars.”
Atlas decides that, whether their cover is blown or not, it is time to leave and regroup. He goes to stand, but immediately feels the blood rush to his head. His eyes trail back down to the half-drunk glass of whiskey on the table. He stumbles a bit and feels Bosco’s hand on his arm. Bosco sounds far away when he asks, “You okay?”
“We need to go…” Atlas shrugs, falling back down on the couch. He sees Bosco sit up from the corner of his eye. “What did you do to him?” He asks, attempting to stand himself. Atlas watches in what seems to be slow motion as Bosco sways on his feet and begins to tip over.
He wants nothing more than to reach out and stop his fall, but his arms are heavy, and his brain is clouding up. He watches Bosco tip over and hears the thunk of his head hitting the floor hard.
“No,” Horace says, leaning down to him, “I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere.”
It was the last thing he heard before he blacked out.