“Oi, dickhead, wrong way,” Red said.
JD put his foot down and sat up straighter to see out the rear-view mirror. Police and security cars slowed as they picked their way through the intersection, civilian traffic steering clear of the flashing lights, but neither authority willing to give way to the other. Khoder’s head appeared in the mirror and JD started.
“Giving me motion sickness back here, bro.”
“Got bigger things to worry about right now.”
Through the rain JD could see the next intersection—lights green, no traffic. He accelerated toward it, then a glitched red bar flashed dead across his vision. JD slammed on the brakes and the van slid, tires shushing over the wet asphalt before they stopped, all four passengers jolting forward with the sudden loss of inertia. JD’s sight cleared in time to see a cop car shoot across the intersection in front of them. JD hit the accelerator and turned left, heading for the stadium again—now two blocks left and two ahead.
“Holy shit, Jules,” Soo-hyun said. “I never knew you could drive like this.”
“I can’t.”
Behind them, blue smoke poured from cop car tires as they spotted the van and did a tight one-eighty across three lanes. The other pursuit vehicles caught up to the late arrival, and together the three police and two security cars formed a vanguard across the width of the street. Ahead, every light turned red—police traffic control locking the grid down—but JD wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t, not now, with the cube slotted into his phone and fifty thousand euro riding on this moment.
JD pushed his foot down and ignored the strained sound coming from the engine. Through one intersection, all lights red, a few cars stopped and waiting while the occupants stared wide-eyed at the chase flitting past.
Next intersection, they needed to go left, then a straight run to the stadium and chaos. Chaos to get lost in.
JD’s throat ached dull as he swallowed. Sweat poured from every pore, the stink of himself thick in his nose, cut with the scent of artificial pine. JD glanced down at the speedometer, visual static covering half the readout. JD slammed the accelerator pedal to the floor and watched the needle peek out from behind the glitch as the engine whined.
More flashes across his right eye, as though his brain were screaming LEFT LEFT LEFT. JD turned left, hand over hand as he spun the steering wheel—the van tore sideways through the intersection, barely missing cars loaded with World Cup revelers, hands pumping the air, horns blaring in celebration, cheering him on. JD grinned. The stadium was dead ahead, the opposite lane choked with traffic as cars poured out of the arena, blocking the pursuing cars, blocking the roads in every direction. JD backed off and the van slowed.
Just ahead, a crowd surged up the footpath, banners, scarves, and balloons all held high overhead. JD aimed the van toward the crowd, and when they were still twenty meters off, he pulled up onto the sidewalk, jumping the curb with a nasty grind of metal on cement.
With the van stopped, JD fell forward against the wheel. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath.
“Come on, let’s go,” Soo-hyun said.
Soo-hyun and Red bailed from the van; JD stayed behind to shove his gear back into the rucksack. When JD opened the driver’s door, he nearly fell out of the vehicle. His legs gave way beneath him and his head swam as the adrenaline quickly leeched from his system. He opened the rear doors and Khoder clambered out, his brown skin shaded green with nausea.
“Sorry, Kid.”
“Apologize with money, bro.” He offered JD a weak smile.
JD clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll be in touch. Look after yourself.”
Khoder nodded, and joined the approaching crowd, disappearing instantly in his team colors.
Soo-hyun hugged JD briefly. “Thanks, Jules.” They squeezed his arm and held his gaze. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”
JD nodded.
Red grabbed Soo-hyun by the arm and pulled them away. “We’ll be in touch about payment,” he said, wearing a grin that bordered on a snarl.
Yeah, you’ll be in touch, asshole, JD thought, just as soon as you check the contents of that cube.
Red and Soo-hyun drifted into the oncoming rush of bodies—Soo-hyun glanced once over their shoulder, and they were gone, swallowed by the mob.
With everyone else out of sight, JD dipped his hand into the cleaning bucket and scraped around in the dirty water until his fingers found the slick plastic bag. He retrieved it, wiped it on his coveralls, and shoved it into his rucksack. He stripped out of the coveralls and put them in the bag too, then wrapped his South Korean–red scarf around his neck, shouldered his bag, and joined the crowd.
After years in Songdo, JD was used to standing out, used to the stares. But dressed in football colors, he was finally, for perhaps the first time, just one of the locals. When he made eye contact it was to swap grins—elation at a team’s victory and a successful heist looking indistinguishable.
Overhead, drones were already gathering—the high-pitched whine of quadcopters buzzing the air, while the police sirens grew louder with each moment.
JD kept walking, jostled by the fans, hidden deep inside the mass of bodies. He smelled the sour
