They convinced the old man to drive them to a nearby gas station where Jaxson had a "backup" vehicle hidden in a rental storage unit. It was a nondescript silver sedan. It wasn't armored and it wasn't fancy, but it was fast.
Jaxson drove with one hand, the other pressed against the bandage Isabella had made from the old man's spare rags. They reached the city just as the sun was starting to peek over the horizon, turning the sky a dirty shade of pink.
The docks were quiet. The seagulls were crying overhead, and the water was slapping against the wooden pilings. Jaxson parked three blocks away.
"Stay close to me," he said. "And keep your head down."
They snuck past the security gate. Jaxson knew all the blind spots of the cameras. They reached Locker 402. Jaxson inserted the real key. The lock turned with a satisfying clunk.
Inside, there weren't just gold bars. There were bags of cash and two fake passports with their pictures on them. Jaxson must have been planning this for a long time.
"Isabella," he said, handing her a passport. "Meet Sarah Miller. And I'm Mark Miller. We're a married couple on a honeymoon to Brazil."
"Brazil?" Isabella smiled. "I've always wanted to see the rainforest."
"Then let's get out of here," Jaxson said.
But as they turned to leave, a shadow fell across the doorway. Vanessa was standing there, her white fur coat now stained with soot and blood. She looked insane. She wasn't holding a pistol anymore; she was holding a submachine gun.
"I knew you'd come back for the real prize, Jax," she hissed. "I checked the other locker. It was full of lead weights. You really thought you could trick me?"
"I don't think, Vanessa," Jaxson said, stepping in front of Isabella. "I know. I know that you're too greedy to call for backup. You wanted the gold for yourself, didn't you? You didn't tell the Boss you found us."
Vanessa's eyes flickered. He was right.
"It doesn't matter," Vanessa said, raising the gun. "Once you're dead, it's all mine anyway."
Isabella didn't think. She grabbed a heavy metal fire extinguisher from the wall and threw it with all her might. It didn't hit Vanessa, but it hit the doorframe, making a loud CLANG that echoed in the small space.
Vanessa flinched for just a second. That was all Jaxson needed. He lunged forward, grabbing the barrel of the gun and pointing it toward the ceiling as she pulled the trigger. The sound was like a jackhammer in the small locker.
Jaxson kicked the gun out of her hand and delivered a swift punch to her jaw. Vanessa crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
Jaxson didn't kill her. He just grabbed a pair of zip-ties from a shelf and tied her hands and feet. "The Boss will find her eventually," he said. "And he won't be happy she tried to steal his gold."
He grabbed the bags of money and the gold, and they ran toward the pier where a small, powerful speedbox was waiting.
"Ready?" Jaxson asked as he started the engine.
Isabella looked back at the city. She thought about her beige apartment and her fifty-dollar couch. She thought about her pink polka-dot pajamas. She realized she didn't want any of it back.
"Ready," she said.
The boat sped out into the open ocean, the spray of the salt water hitting their faces. As the sun rose fully, Isabella leaned her head on Jaxson's shoulder. They were moving toward a new life, a dangerous life, but it was theirs.