Page 121 of Never Forget

“Too bad you weren’t with me from the beginning, your mind would have been blown.”

“Still is, if I’m being honest.”

“Stick with me, kid. We’re going to get what we deserve.”

“I damn sure hope so.”

The block is eerily quiet when we arrive, the locker facility is vacant and the souvenir shop next door is closed, leaving the street close to empty. There’s no sign of anyone watching or standing by. Are they here yet? Did they hear everything? Or anything at all? I’m not sure what I’ll do if none of that conversation was picked up. If Naz, Cory, and Blake weren’t able to dig up anything incriminating, will just being here be enough? If this guy walks free after everything I heard him say, I don’t think I could handle it.

The door chimes when we walk in. Fluorescent lights flicker overhead, casting a yellowish haze over the room.

“It’s over this way,” I say, pointing him to where the locker is.

“Yeah, I know.”

I raise an eyebrow at him.

“I was here. I think you almost saw me, actually, but you tripped over some boxes. I guess that’s the downside to being as tall as you are, eh?” He snickers. “I saw Naz, too. That self-important jackass was too busy looking at his reflection in the glass to notice me walk right by.”

“Yeah, guess so,” I say, imagining using my fist to hammer him into the ground like a tent spike.

When we reach the locker, I start to enter the code, then step back. “Shit, sorry. Did you want to do the honors?”

“It’s fine. Please proceed,” he says, gesturing oh-so graciously.

Once the locker is open, I pull open the door and do a ridiculous bow-wave like a butler revealing his next course. Francis hums his approval and reaches inside.

No sooner does the backpack leave the confines of the locker than a dozen officers wearing black padded vests, helmets, and holding automatic weapons pop out of nowhere.

“FBI! Don’t move!”

Instinctively, I throw up my hands. Francis drops the backpack like it’s on fire.

“Put your hands behind your head,” a man calls out from behind us.

I do what he says, my heart hammering. Francis does the same, murmuring quietly, “Let me do the talking.”

An officer steps up behind Francis at the same time that I’m shoved face first against the lockers, hands pulled behind my back. Metal digs into my wrists as the cuffs are locked in place. My feet are kicked apart, face still against the locker, while the officer pats down my barely there shorts. My cellphone and wallet are removed from my pockets. I think maybe they’re speaking to me, but everything is happening so fast I can barely process that I’m being arrested.

“We are not resisting,” Francis announces as he’s cuffed, albeit nowhere nearly as roughly as I was. I suppose there’s another downside to being a walking refrigerator as Naz likes to call me.

The flash of fear in Francis’ eyes is worth however long I have to spend in cuffs until I’m cleared. I know Naz, Cory, and Blake will tell them I’m not actually part of this, that I’m undercover or something. Although that sounds stupid now that I’m surrounded by a dozen federal officers.

We’re led out of the building with cameras flashing behind us, the agents taking photos for evidence. There are cameras in front of us, too. A few press, maybe. Random people on the street who came to see why there are so many law enforcement vehicles blocking the road.

The flashing lights of at least half a dozen cop cars blinds me as we step further out of the building.

THIRTY-TWO

NAZ

So much happens at once, I can barely keep track. One second, we were sitting in the back of Agent Newsom’s car waiting for our cue, the next everything exploded in flashing lights, sirens, and voices shouting from every direction.

Cory and I were instructed to stay by the vehicle, an officer by our side, either for protection or to make sure we don’t go anywhere. Could be either. Might be both.

A crowd is starting to gather, drawn by the lights and drama of what I thought would be a simple arrest. They’re all pushed back behind police barriers, giving the building a wide berth.

As quickly as everything moved since the cars arrived to the whirlwind of the perimeter being set up and the team counting down to bust into the locker facility, it feels like time has slowed since they went in.