On the upside, Clementine had just split up some of her men, which meant that she'd also split her attention, energy, and resources. She couldn't be everywhere at once, and she'd already done the dividing for me. All I had to do now was conquer, or, rather, kill. One on one, I had a chance against the giants.
More than a chance as the Spider.
I scooted back across the floor toward the doorway. When I was sure I was out of sight of everyone below, I stood up, grabbed my shoes, and eased down the stairs to the first level. The chill of the marble had sunk into my skin from lying on the floor for so long, and it felt good to move, even though I could still hear the worried whispers of the stones and the sharp stings from the gunfire that had already seeped into them. I pushed these things from my mind.
A soft, familiar mechanical whirring sounded. I looked up and realized that a security camera was mounted above the staircase entrance. I hadn't paid any attention to the cameras when I'd rushed out of the bathroom earlier. Clearly, nobody had spotted me running toward the rotunda on the feed because nobody had come charging onto the balcony after me. Besides, the crew had been focused on the hostages then, not the possibility that one lone woman had somehow escaped their sticky web. But now that Clementine and her giants had taken control of things, I didn't want to give myself away by barreling down the hallways in plain view of all the cameras.
The camera moved in a slow, steady arc, so it was easy enough for me to dart past just outside of its line of sight when the lens turned in the opposite direction. I stared down the hallway at the next camera mounted on the wall, but it likewise moved in the same slow half-circular pattern and was just as simple to dodge.
Repeating the maneuver, I slid from shadow to shadow, hallway to hallway, all the while keeping my eyes and ears open for any sign of anyone else lurking in Briartop. But the only ones moving through the museum were the group Clementine was leading. Wherever her other men were, they were all busy with the tasks they'd been given. I stayed one hallway behind Clementine and the others, close enough that I could hear her voice as she barked out orders to her men and the faint crackles of the walkie-talkies as they reported back to her.
"Team one, status?"
"Starting on Exhibit Hall A."
"Good. Keep to the schedule."
"Roger that. We'll load everything up and move on to Exhibit Hall B when we're done in here."
And so on and so on. Clementine and her crew really were looting the whole museum, stripping it bare like locusts chewing through a field of sweet summer clover. Good for them, for thinking big.
Too bad she'd singled out Owen to help with her heist. She was going to die for that, for threatening my friends, for Dixon shooting Phillip, for ordering Jillian's murder - for all of it.
It was one thing to want to kill me. I expected it as the Spider. I'd practically signed on for it, taking out Mab the way I had, then being foolish enough to let all the underworld bosses live through Salina's ambush. But nobody preyed on my friends and family, nobody scared or hurt or used them as pawns. Nobody.
My heart pumped with cold, steady rage, and I reveled in the blackness, embraced it like the old, familiar friend it was, let it seep into every part of my being until there was nothing left but me, my knives, and my sharp, bloody will to use them on every enemy who crossed my path tonight.
Finally, the soft scuffles of shoes and crackles of conversation stopped. I eased up to the end of the hallway I'd been creeping down, made sure I was in the cameras' blind spots, and looked around the corner.
Clementine had led Owen deep into the museum, past a dozen exhibits and gallery after gallery, until they were in the center of the main wing in the very heart of Briartop. She approached two giants standing in front of a large metal door marked Museum Personnel Only - Special Clearance Needed. The museum's rune - that tangle of briars and brambles - curled around the words on the sign.
The two men both wore security-guard uniforms. Well, that confirmed my suspicion that Clementine had gotten some of her men hired on as guards for tonight's event and had taken out the rest. With them out of the way, she and her crew could rob the museum at their leisure, without worrying about setting off any alarms or someone calling the police.
Even if someone did manage to summon help, Clementine had a whole rotunda full of hostages to use as leverage, and there were enough important people here tonight to make the cops think twice about simply storming the museum. None of the underworld bosses would appreciate being collateral damage, especially since so many of them paid the po-po to look the other way when it came to all of their illegal activities.
No, Clementine had been smart about things - just not quite smart enough, since I was still alive and eager to mess up her plans.
One of the men standing by the door opened it. Dixon pushed Owen through the opening, and the two guards went inside behind him. Clementine turned to the two giants who'd followed her here from the rotunda.
"Tanner, you go inside with the others and help them get set up. Gary, you go over to the security center and see if Rose needs any help monitoring the camera feeds. We've got the museum locked down tight, but I want some extra eyes on the hostages in the rotunda, just in case any of them get any dumb ideas about playing hero."
The giants nodded and did as she commanded, heading down the hallway and leaving her alone with her family. When the others were out of earshot, she turned to Opal and Dixon.
"How did we make out with the jewelry?" she asked.
Opal lovingly patted the silverstone case she was carrying. "At least five million in this case and another five to ten million easy in the garbage bags. Maybe more."
Clementine nodded. "Good. Go back and deal with the jewelry. I want it out of the rotunda and secured as soon as possible. Dixon, you know what to do with that case."
"Sure thing, Aunt Clem."
Dixon expectantly stretched his hand out to his cousin. Opal's fingers clenched around the handle of the case for a moment before she finally passed it over to him. Dixon smirked at her, his swollen nose and the dribbles of blood on his face making his orange skin look even more cartoonish. Opal coldly eyed him like she wanted to rip the case out of his hand and make him eat it. Definitely no love lost there.
Clementine checked her fancy watch. "If everything goes according to plan, it shouldn't take Grayson more than an hour to work his magic. Most of the art should be loaded into the trucks by then. Then the rest."
Opal and Dixon both smiled at her words, their faces creasing with dark delight.
The rest? What else did they have planned? And what did they need Owen for? I also wondered why Clementine was so concerned about making sure she had all of the hostages' jewels, when her men were busy robbing the entire museum. But I shrugged the questions away. I'd find out the answers soon enough - body by bloody, bloody body.