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I meet his eyes and nod. “Yes. He’s right here.”
“Grab his phone for me. He’s got it on him.”
“What?” He studies me with a scowl. Hard-faced, and burning intensity in his eyes. “What’s the problem?”
“She wants your phone.” I extend my hand and wait for him to bring it out of his pocket and slap it into my palm. “What about it?” I ask Sophia.
“It has a Griffin Technologies chip attached to the back, hidden between the phone and the cover. It’s about the size of a grain of rice, but flat.”
“He has a—” I meet Tim’s hard stare. “You put a listening device on his phone?”
“Actually, that’smyphone,” she sniggers. “I mirrored them up and switched them out in New York.”
“Why the fuck did you mirror my brother’s phone, Sophia?”
“Because he’s Timothy Malone the Third,” she drawls. “It’s in everyone’s best interest that I know what’s happening with your family. Now grab the chip and slip it under the bank door. It’s so small, Slade won’t know it’s there, but it’s powerful, so we’ll be able to hear everything.”
“What the fuck is she saying?” Tim snarls. “What’s wrong with my phone?”
“You’ve carried a bug around with you since New York.” I hold my phone between my shoulder and ear, then I pull the casing off Tim’s and watch as, in slow motion, the world’s tiniest chip flutters to the road.
It’s as thin as rice paper, and when I pick it up between my fingers, I find it bends.
“What the hell?”
“It’s sensitive,” Sophia barks, “so stop rubbing your fingers all over it. Get it up the stairs. The sooner we have ears, the sooner we can figure out how to fix this shit.”
“Pizza’s here!” A uniformed officer clears a path for a couple of delivery kids to cart their towers through our crowd. They meet by the command truck, lower their stacks, then the kids bolt and find the other side of the barricades to stay safe. “Who has medical?”
“I have Doctor Mayet’s medical.” I charge to the back of a van and snatch up the bag I’ve already prepped. Needles, diluent, factor, tape, and more. I’ve seen Minka infuse a thousand times, so I know every single thing she needs. I know in what order she’ll use each. I know how to save her fucking life. So I slap the mini chip to the bottom of her bag and thrust the lot to the top of a pizza pile.
“Be careful.” I glare at the uniform and wait for his nod of acknowledgment. Then I back away and take my phone in my hand again. “The chip’s heading in now.”
“He wants money for surgery for his kid?” I didn’t tell her so, and Tiffany Hewitt doesn’t know everything yet, which means Sophia accesses her information some other way. “What’s wrong with her?”
“You don’t know yet? I thought you could trace people back to their ancestors with a single snapshot of their face.”
She snickers low in her throat. “I was saving us time by asking you. But don’t worry about it.” She taps at her keyboard and pulls up information not even I could have access to. “Shitttt.” She breathes out until I swear I can feel it in my ear. “I need a doctor to translate this for me.”
“A growth in her lungs,” I fill in. “A tumor or whatever. The kid needs it cut out, because for as long as it’s there, she can no longer breathe on her own.”
“Prognosis?”
“I don’t fucking know! I’m only friendly with three doctors, Solomon. Two of them are inside the bank, and the third isn’t taking my calls right now. Get onto her, and we might make some progress on this shit.”
“What’s her name?” She works, types, listens, speaks.
Sophia Solomon is an enigma to me. Not someone I truly, actually know. She’s just… here. In my life. I think she came with Minka, but at this point, I can’t be entirely sure of their connection.
“The doctor’s name,” she repeats.
“Nicole Cleary. She’s married now, but she kept her maiden name. She’s a general surgeon at Copeland Hospital. She’s cool, Sophia, so making contact with her can only be a good thing.”
“Okay. I’ll find her. In the meantime, your pizzas are heading inside, and I have a man working the drone to maintain operational eyes. Keep the cops off us, Malone. We may incidentally be armed, and if your people notice, they’ll consider us a threat.”
My eyes shoot wide as I turn and watch a vested officer start up the bank’s steps.
“Areyou a threat?” I murmur. Captain Bower watches the bank. As does Lieutenant Fabian. Even the mayor. Everyone follows the pizza, but I turn the other way and search for the silent drone. “Is this going to be an issue?”
