Page 48 of Talk to Me
The new day dawned on our way to MD Outfitters. It was gray, cloudy, and smelled of rain. But the forecast didn’t call for it. Fine by me. For now, I focused on the building where MD Outfitters was housed.
“A half-dozen cameras,” Locke said, “just focused on the lot and the front of the building. The glass is tinted to mirror so they can see out, we can’t see in. Double-bars on those delivery doors. That’s just what we can see.”
I took a swallow of the coffee I’d picked up. The greasy, fried breakfast sandwich and hash browns went a long way toward quieting my stomach’s complaints.
“It’s early and there’s what, forty cars in that lot?” Locke shook his head. “This is a bad idea to just walk in, especially if they are all armed contractors.”
“Got a better idea?” I asked. “I’ve taken down bigger places with less. You can stay out here, Remington can be eyes in the sky…”
“Really?” The absolute disdain in Remington’s British accent would amuse me save for the way he looked at me like I was stupid. “Where do you propose I set up? It’s flat for at least four miles around us and there’s no good lines of sight to the interior.”
“Fine, you can cover my ass the old-fashioned way by going inside with me. I’ll run point. I prefer being the first one through the door.”
“Hmm, more likely to get your head blown off.” Not that Remington sounded like he objected.
“It’s gonna be fun,” I told him. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and she’s in there.”
“We’re not that lucky,” Locke said.
“Man, you have got to learn to look on the brighter side of life.” I patted his shoulder. The plan was pretty basic, but like I’d told them—I’d done more with less. Besides, after hours of waiting and looking, I was more than ready to crack a few heads open.
Ten minutes later, I drove us to another spot where we had some coverage. Then we’d approach from the open land rather than the road. They had fewer cameras back there. Fewer didn’t mean none.
Once we were parked, I got out with Remington to check the weapons we wanted. Locke followed, then started off toward the trees.
“Where are you going?”
“Hitting the head,” he told me over his shoulder. “Want to watch?”
“Don’t take too long,” I said and he raised a middle finger back at me.
As he disappeared into the trees, I kept one eye on that direction. Remington stripped down a Sig Sauer then put it back together.
“You’re not taking it on a date,” I told him and he ignored me. Not that I blamed him. I wouldn’t walk into a fight with a weapon I hadn’t checked unless I was in the middle of one already.
Still… five minutes turned into ten and Locke wasn’t back.
“Where the fuck is he?”
“Maybe he needed to evacuate his bowels,” Remington said. “We’ll need to move sooner rather than la?—”
At his breaking off, I pivoted to see Locke strolling back toward us with a bag over his shoulder.
“He didn’t leave with a bag, did he?” I really hoped Patch wasn’t fond of Locke. I might end up killing him.
“No.” Remington managed to make that single syllable sound like an indictment.
“You wanna explain where you went?” I asked when Locke was in earshot.
“You had a plan,” he told me, setting the bag down in the back where we’d been going through weapons. Then he flipped it open to reveal hard drives. “I had a better plan. Patch gave me a couple of programs for cracking drives on my last job. If these guys took her, she’d be in their files.”
“So,” Remington said slowly. “You took all their files.”
“Yep and this…” He held up a keycard with a smirk. It had a red stripe on it. “Level One security should also help us get past some of the encryptions.”
“You were gone for ten minutes.”
“Technically fifteen,” Remington said. “Accuracy is preferable. You didn’t start counting until it annoyed you that he wasn’t back.”