The Inside Job Read Online Free PDF Page B

asked.
    â€œNo,” Beatrix said. “They’re in a bunch of other people’s. And they seem to be real people too. This account I’m looking at now belongs to a butcher. This other one belongs to a lady who owns a shoe store.”
    â€œGenius,” I said. “Hide some money in real people’s accounts for a week or two. If they notice, they won’t say anything—who complains about an extra thousand or so in their bank account? And it means there’s no way to steal
just
the SRS money—the accounts are always changing. The amounts are always changing. I bet even the vaults are always changing. No wonder the account is tied to that Hastings guy—he must handle all this for them.”
    â€œHe’s their inside man. We have to get past SRS
and
the bank’s security
and
someone at the bank who actually knows what’s going on with those accounts,” I said, slumping down in my chair. I stared at the smooth wood tabletop. No one moved. Everyone waited for someone else in the room to have the great idea.
    But no one did.
    â€œSo we’re done? We can’t do it?” Kennedy asked, frowning.
    â€œLooks that way,” Otter said. He stood up, his chair clattering behind him. He stomped off to his bedroom, which Clatterbuck had the misfortune of sharing with him, and slammed the door.
    Ben snored.
    Ben
really
snored. Like, the sort of snoring that sounds like a truck on the interstate. It was kind of incredible that such a spectacular sound could come from a guy so small. I tossed and turned on the lower bunk, trying to figure out if Walter, who was sleeping above me, was awake. Finally I just whispered up to him.
    â€œYeah, I’m awake,” he grumbled. “I tried to smother myself with a pillow, but it didn’t work. Maybe you could come knock me out?”
    â€œYou really want
me
punching you?” I answered, and Walter laughed under his breath. We went silent for a few more moments, which Ben graciously filled with a bunch of short snores all in a row.
    â€œI’m sort of relieved about the bank. It’s a big job,” Walter finally said, his voice a little edgy, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to say this.
    â€œYou wouldn’t have gone in alone or anything,” I reassured him. Walter got jumpy on missions—he was thesort of guy who could rewire a light grid flawlessly in the practice room but would freeze up in the field.
    â€œThat wasn’t really what I meant, actually,” Walter said, his voice lower now. “I mean, it’s a big job. SRS would be so angry. And they’ve still got my mom . . .”
    I felt stupid for not realizing what he meant, so I scrambled. “Oh. Well. Your mom is tough as nails. They wouldn’t be able to hurt her even if they wanted to. She’d go on the run.”
    â€œLike your parents?”
    I was quiet for a long time, thinking,
No, not like my parents.
Because, see, my parents went on the run even though it meant
leaving
me and Kennedy, because getting out of SRS was the right thing to do—because they were heroes, and sometimes heroes had to do really hard things like that. Right? But Walter was already gone—his mom could just
leave
. She could walk out right now, and if anything, she’d be even closer to getting to be with Walter again—it’d practically be easy! Yet, she was staying with SRS. She was just choosing to stay with the bad guys.
    I thought I could guess
why
she was staying. Because it was easier. She knew who she was at SRS—she knew the rules, the system, the goals. She didn’t know who she’d be here on the outside. But if I could get out despite all that, then so could she, right?
    Out loud, though, I finally said, “Yeah, I guess like my parents. They could join up, maybe. Help each other out.And then when SRS is done for, we’ll all go to some theme park together.”
    Walter laughed a