Chapter Text
The moment Kaz mentioned that the newest heist was taking place at the most prestigious event in Ketterdam, Jesper had been all ears. Well, mostly ears. He paid as much attention as he could to the actual plan part, but his brain was elsewhere.
It wasn’t often that he got to do something like this. Dress up with purpose, for someone other than his mirror. Not that his mirror was complaining, of course. He was far too fashionable for that. But this was different. He had a role to play and an audience to impress, even if they weren't aware of it.
“How does this look?” He asked, spinning around toward the bed where Wylan was laying, watching him. He held a pair of corduroy pants to his waist line, expanding his other hand to the side to show it off.
“Looks good.” Wylan mumbled, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he inspected it. “I don’t think it fits the dress code though.”
Jesper stared at him, mouth agape and eyebrows tilted inward. “There's a dress code?” He asked, shock and disgust filling his voice. “They expect me to put a limit on my style?”
Wylan choked on a laugh. “The event is black tie unless you're Grisha.” He explained, and Jesper took a moment to think before a lightbulb went off in his head.
“Wait.” He said, dropping the pants on the ground. “I am Grisha.”
“Not tonight you aren’t.” Wylan stood, pulling a plain black and white suit from a chair. “Kaz got this for you. Told me to make sure you blend in. Said we don’t need unnecessary attention because of your inability to be normal for once.” Jesper glared at him, offensive rising in his chest. Wylan simply shrugged. “He said it, not me.”
Grumbling, Jesper took the suit and changed into it. It wasn’t much, just a black pair of pants and a matching black coat that fell down to his thigh, long enough to conceal his guns, with a plain white shirt underneath. He looked it over in the mirror. He could do better than this.
Shucking off the jacket and throwing it at Wylan, he shimmied out of the shirt and plucked a new one from his closet. This one was a deep purple, thin in material and almost see through if you pulled the fabric tight enough. He put a vest on top of it, a gray one made of lace that had been woven into a flowery pattern and complete with lavender buttons that lined the middle. Sliding the coat on top, Jesper once again inspected the outfit. It was cluttered in all the right ways, busy yet not overly distracting. He would be noticeable, draw eyes, but they wouldn’t linger unless they wanted to.
“It’s missing something.” Jesper muttered to himself, ignoring protests from Wylan behind him as he dug through the mess of his closet. His hand grazed something smooth and shiny, a chain connected to a simple black belt. Laying next to it was a small scarf, the color of aged wine. He put both on and smiled to himself.
“There!” He announced, spinning to look at his boyfriend. “Stunning, as always.”
Wylan rolled his eyes, “Kaz is going to kill you.” He stated. Jesper simply smiled.
“At least I'll look good when it happens.”
Kaz did indeed want to kill Jesper when they all met up at the Crow Club an hour later. His usual glare was particularly filled with rage, deep eyes boring holes into Jespers outfit.
“Wylan.” He said, staring down at the red-head. “What is Jesper wearing?”
Wylan shuddered under the words, clearing his throat as he looked to Jesper, then to Kaz, then back to Jesper again. He sighed in defeat.
“What did you expect me to do? Tell him to change?”
A heavy clank came from the ground, the result of Kaz banging his cane against the wooden flooring. It reverberted under their feet, echoing through the hustle and bustle of the packed building.
“I don’t have time for this.” He hissed, snapping his head toward the side where Nina, Inej, and Matthias were standing. “Is everyone ready?”
He didn’t wait for an answer before turning on his heel and heading out the door, leaving the other five scrambling after him, Jesper with a smugly satisfied grin painting his face.
By the time they got to the building of the event, the plan was ready to be set in action. Jesper and Inej were sent inside as guests, using invites Kaz had gotten from a connection on the inside, someone he had enough information on to get what he needed. Nina took out a guard who was alone behind the building, stealing his uniform and giving it to Kaz, who snuck inside without a hitch. Matthias and Wylan took to the streets, hanging around the front of the building and waiting for their signal, while Nina stayed out back and waited for Kaz to return.
Jesper turned to Inej, smiling widely as he spoke through his gritted teeth. “Run me through the plan one more time?” He hissed. She glared at him as they made their way to the front door.
“We get in, you make conversation with one of Rollins associates, I steal the keys for the building and deliver them to Kaz. It's in, out. Quick as we can go. No distractions.”
“I make no promises.” Jesper said with a smile, approaching the guard at the front door and grasping Inej’s arm. He handed over the invitations he had been given, pressing his lips together as the man before them inspected the pieces of paper.
“Have fun, you two.” He said finally, thick accent cutting through the tension in the air. He eyed Jespers outfit as the two of them walked inside, but he didn’t say anything. Jesper grinned to himself. This was going to go splendidly, Kaz had nothing to worry about at all.
They entered the building, the scent of pure and utter wealth hanging heavy in the air. It was bright, large chandeliers made of crystals shining down in every room. Jesper locked eyes with a table across the room, one filled to the brim with an array of different colored drinks spilling out of glass fountains. His legs started to move toward it, but he was stopped by nails digging through the fabric of his coat.
“That’s our target.” Inej whispered, eyes flicking toward a younger looking man with a scar across his cheek. He was surrounded by people, a woman on his arm and a few older gentlemen chatting with him. “Go work your magic.”
Jesper smirked as he let go of Inej’s hand, letting her disappear into the crowd as he made his way toward the man. He threw on his friendliest smile and took a breath. It was show time.
“Hello!” He chirped, drawing eyes toward him. “How are we all on this fine evening?”
The group stared at him for a moment, leaving an awkward silence in the air. But then the man, the one with the scar, spoke. “I'm very well.” He said, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he inspected Jesper. “I don’t think I've seen you around before. You are..?”
Jesper coughed as he tried to think of the name Kaz had given him. Nothing came to mind; he had no recollection of the identity he was supposed to be portraying.
“Elias.” He said finally, the word blurting out of his mouth at random. “Elias Witlock.”
The man seemed satisfied by this. He grinned, holding out a hand. “Cornelius Kwolek.”
Taking Cornelius’s hand, Jesper shook it with a firm grasp. “Pleasure to meet you.”
Cornelius smiled. “The pleasure is all mine.”
-
It took approximately 30 minutes for Jesper to get Cornelius alone. He had pulled him into an empty hallway, under the excuse that the main room was far too loud for them to have proper conversation.
“So.” Jesper said, clearing his throat as Inej crept down the long corridor. “Did you see how many drinks there were in there? Because I don’t think I've ever seen that many drinks with that many colors before. We should go taste them all later. See if they live up to the expectations…” He chuckled as he rambled on, trying to keep his eyes away from Inej, who was quietly creeping closer. She ended up on his left side, hand reaching out to grab a large silver key that was hanging off of his belt.
“Hello, Wraith.” Cornelius said suddenly, hand snapping to the side to wrap around Inej’s wrist. He spun around, throwing Inej backward and causing her to slam against the wall. She hissed his pain as he approached her, extending a leg to kick him in the gut and duck out of his grasp.
Jespers hands were already on his guns, pulling them out and lining up his shot, but Inej stopped him.
“No, Jesper. We don’t need the noise to bring attention to us.” She hissed, grabbing a knife from her waistline. She threw it at Cornelius with a grunt, grinning as it lodged its way into his upper left arm as he stumbled backward.
“Nice work.” Jesper cheered. Inej glared at him, ducking as a fist flew toward her head. “Oh right, helping. Sorry!” He launched himself toward Cornelius, hitting him straight in the face with enough force to break a nose, or a knuckle. Probably both. The punch was strong enough to knock him to the ground, struggling to stand as Inej glowered over him, her heel digging into her ribcage.
“I’m sorry about this.” She murmured, before bringing her hand down and impaling a sharp knife into his chest. He gasped for air as she twisted it for good measure and yanked it out, drops of blood dripping from the tip and onto the white marble flooring.
The faint thuds of a cane approached suddenly, and Inej yanked the key from the dead man's belt. She grabbed Jesper by the hand and walked down the hall, smiling as he passed a guard.
“Took you long enough.” He muttered. Jesper glared at him.
“”Not even a thank you? Where are your manners?”
Kaz looked at him from under the brim of his cap. “Thank you for not screwing it all up completely.” He said with a sarcastic attempt at a grin, holding his gloved hand out for the key. Inej placed it gently and he wrapped his fingers around it, sliding it across the leather. “Go socialize. You’ll know when to leave.”
The two of them started to walk away, but Kaz called out once more. “And Jesper?”
Jesper pressed his lips together. “Yes, boss?”
“Try not to get too drunk.” And with that he was off, cane clicking against the floor as he went. Jesper rolled his eyes.
“Me? Get too drunk? Who does he think I am?” He grumbled as they reentered the party through a different door than the one they left, landing them right next to the table of drinks. He glanced at it, and then turned back to Inej. “Is it bad if I…?”
Inej rolled her eyes, shooting him a forced smile as someone walked past them. “You know your limits. Don’t cross them.”
He nodded in response and gave her a parting grin before sliding gracefully toward the table and filling up a glass of the light pink, almost orange liquid. It was sweet, a faint burst of citrus shining on the first notes. The flavors danced across his tongue, acidity burning in the best way possible.
Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, he quickly downed the cup, hissing as the overwhelming rush of alcohol assaulted his taste buds. It was good, so good that filled another cup to sip idly as he surveyed the room. Inej was nowhere to be found, probably off lurking in a hallway. The guests moved around in a way that almost seemed like a well-choreographed dance, always knowing where to go and what to say.
They paid no attention to him, no attention to a man who barely looked like he belonged. Not from his clothes but from his demeanor, the way he held himself and the way his fingers clung tightly to his drink. And the way he was all alone in the side, like someone who didn’t learn the steps and couldn’t hear the music to this seemingly rehearsed event.
Across the room, someone caught his eye. Light blonde hair and a lean figure, he was wearing one of the finest suits Jesper had ever seen, one that had probably been hand tailored to fit him just right. There was something familiar about him, in the way his face was shaped, the smooth paleness of his skin.
Jesper walked closer, holding his shoulders high and grinning down at people as he passed them. He made his way toward the man, hoping and praying that it wasn’t who he thought it was. But then they locked eyes, and the deep blue color made Jespers stomach churn at the recognition. They were exactly like Wylans, only colder, arrogance placed where Wylan's showed love.
Jan Van Eck.
Rage bubbled in Jesper's stomach, grip around his glass tightening. He slowly stepped forward, just enough so he was in Van Eck’s view, and took the last sip of his drink. “This is for my boyfriend, you bastard.” He muttered, almost to himself. And then he took the glass by the stem and swung it right into Jan’s head.
It shattered, bringing the attention in the room to him as blood dripped onto the floor for the second time that evening. Van Eck stood there in shock, face going red as he processed what had just happened.
“Waiter!” Jesper called to the closest man carrying a tray of drinks. He grabbed one and downed it in one gulp before swinging at Van Eck’s head once again, sending a second shattering of glass across the room.
And, because Jesper was slightly drunk and very angry, he took a deep breath and threw himself forward, sending his still bruised fist right into Van Eck's bloodied face. It brought him to his knees, teeth pressed together as if to try and not show any pain.
“You’ll regret this.” He hissed. Jesper grinned wildly, the impacts of the alcohol setting in.
“Will I? Because I think it’s you who’s on his knees.” He spit back.
Van Eck laughed. His voice came out in pained glee, cackling evilly as he threw his head backward.
Inej suddenly appeared behind him, glaring at him. “Jesper.” She said quietly, yet there was anger in her tone. “Wylan is gone.”