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Quickly, I run down the hall on the tips of my sneakers, being careful not to make a sound. When I reach the end of the hall, I press my body tightly against the wall beside the scanner. Pulling the short usb-c cord from my pocket, I plug one end into my phone and the other end into the scanner. Beads of sweat roll from my hairline down my cheeks as I quickly run the codes to bypass the scans.
The moments tick by so slowly that terror begins to sink into my chest. If this doesn’t work, I don’t have enough time to make it back to the attic.
Just unplug and run Zeke. It’s not gonna work. You’re a failure, Zeke.
Pressing my eyes closed, I take a deep breath and count to five, trying to shut out the voices in my head.
The faintest beep catches my attention and I snap my eyes open just as an audible click comes from the door handle.
Fuck yes!
Disconnecting my phone from the scanner, I open the door and slip inside quickly. Once inside, I switch the app off, allowing the camera view to return to the live footage of an empty hallway.
All of my digging yielded signs that the basement cameras were likely tied to the local servers, with separate codes for security reasons. If my theory is right and there’s an air gap between the basement surveillance and the servers, it explains why I couldn’t get in earlier. I’ll need to be able to bridge the gap on site. Pulling a pen light from my jacket pocket, I click it on as I walk down the aisles of servers, looking for the main.
When I reach the opposite end of the room, I still don’t see it, until I spin around to backtrack. Tucked into the corner, I spot the main out of the corner of my eye. Running up to the system, I crouch down, kneeling on the floor. Sticking the pen light between my teeth, I hold it steady as I retrieve the small set of tools from my back pocket. One tiny screw at a time, I disassemble the front of the housing.
Pulling my backpack down off of my shoulders, I set it on the ground noiselessly. Unzipping the top compartment of my bag, I pull out my laptop, lift the lid, and hardwire my laptop to the main. As I’m running the programs, my phone beeps in my pocket, nearly making me leap out of my skin.
Yanking the phone out of my pocket, the first thing I do is silence the notifications before swiping to my messages.
Baby Boy: Dropping off the security equipment at Rico’s.
Baby Boy: Your place after right?
With shaky fingers, I quickly text him back, before pocketing my phone.
Me: Yeah.
Allowing the program to finish running, I cross my fingers and hope for the best. If I can establish the link directly between my laptop and the server, I should be able to get into the basement cameras remotely moving forward. After that, I don’t know what comes next. Am I prepared for the things I might find? No. I sure the fuck am not.
Riot made me promise not to keep him out of the loop on this, but the thought of involving him or anyone else in my life in this mess, makes me sick to my stomach. And now I have him lying to our boss. Riot is the most loyal person I’ve ever met, and he’s putting his ass on the line for me. It’s not just the Syndicate I worry about.
What happens if Travis finds out?
“Yeah, I just swear I heard something.”
A voice from the hall stops me in my tracks. Wide eyed, I scan the room quickly, realizing there’s no way out if someone comes in here. I’m a sitting duck.
“Man, it’s secure. What we need to do is secure the first floor. The auction is almost done, and we need to make sure no one lags.”
Auction?
“Alright, I’ll meet you down there. I’m telling you. I heard something.”
The codes finish running, and I quickly shut my laptop, sticking it in my bag. One screw at a time, with trembling hands I struggle to re-attach the housing as the two men outside the door debate whether or not there’s something to be concerned about. Maybe these fucking idiots will turn their backs on whatever the first guy thought he heard.
Suddenly an audible click fills the air.
Dropping the toolkit to the ground, I reach into the back of my waistband and pull out my Sig. As the doorknob turns, I reach into my jacket and pull out the silencer, screwing it onto the muzzle.
Come on just walk away man. Just walk away.
Sucking in a breath, I crouch in the corner, waiting. The door pushes open and a large, burly man wearing all black tactical gear walks into the room.
“Hey,” he starts, and before he can lift his weapon, I take aim and shoot.
The bullet enters the side of his neck, spraying blood all over the wall behind him. Before he can fall to the floor, I lunge forward, throwing my weight beneath him, hoping to silence his fall. I can’t stay here any longer. Every moment I’m under this roof is a risk that someone else is coming through that door.
