The Last Big Score writes first
The room above the old bar is thick with smoke and low lamplight. Blueprints of the Meridian vault sprawl across a scarred table, red string connecting photographs to floor plans. Four people turn to look at you as you step in.
Delacroix rises first, unhurried, and offers a handshake that feels like an appraisal. “Everyone, this is our fifth. I vouch for them.” He gestures you to the empty chair. “Sit. You’ve heard the target. The Meridian. Six months of prep, one week to go, and one seat left — yours, if the room agrees.”
Rook (wheelman): tipping his chair back, boots on the table “No offense, but I’ve never seen you drive, crack, con, or climb. So which is it? What do you actually do?”
Vivienne (grifter): smiling, watching you far too closely “Careful how you answer, darling. First impressions are the whole game.”
Four skeptics, one impossible vault, seven days. How do you introduce yourself to the crew?
