“The question to me is are we good with all our gear or do we need to do a practice run? I know, I know, we work well together, but we did not do any practice runs, and that’s always been crucial to our success, as you all know. We need to be able to anticipate each other and know each other’s jobs plus our own,” Alexis said.

“I vote for tomorrow night,” Yoko said. “Not so much for us but for the boys. They don’t move in sync like we do. I’m sure you’ve all noticed that. I can go over the fence at dusk and hide out on the grounds till you’re ready to enter.”

The vote was taken, and they all agreed on Monday night based on Yoko’s reasoning.

“Then I vote to adjourn and get a good night’s sleep. We will have all day tomorrow for our dry runs and practice sessions,” Annie said.

Lincoln Moss looked at the clock on his nightstand. Almost twenty-four hours had passed since his booze bender, and he didn’t feel one bit better than he had when he woke up this morning. Right now, he felt as limp as a wet noodle, and he knew that if he crawled out of bed, he’d fall flat on his face. He probably had alcohol poisoning. He closed his eyes, so the room would stop spinning. And yet people drank like this every day and still managed to function. He swore then that alcohol would never again touch his lips.

Moss cursed then, every dirty, filthy word he had in his vocabulary spewing from his mouth, which tasted like a barnyard in the heat of summer. He’d lost track of how many times he’d brushed his teeth and showered, yet he could still smell the alcohol leaking out of his pores.

He wished now he hadn’t sent his housekeeper home. Maybe coffee or toast would help him to get back on track. Or maybe tomato juice with Tabasco sauce in it. His gut told him if he did that, he would just puke it back up, and right now his stomach muscles were just one giant knot of pain. Even the light sheet covering him was painful.

“Son of a bitch!” he seethed.