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“Good. Blu, you’re up.” He dives into his pocket to retrieve his cell. “Reynolds cut him loose and get the gear bag.”
“Roger that.”
His freeing action successfully starts what I hope will be a fairly quick process.
I don’t know much about hacking.
Or data diving.
Or dealing with encrypted files.
Computer shit has never really been my thing and unlike those that feel the need to be great at fucking everything, I don’t.
I’m okay knowing my strengths.
Using them.
Especially when it comes to protecting those I love.
Blu handles the conversation with Wiz on speaker while I hold the weapon in place to ensure he does what’s he’s told. Once Reynolds returns with my med kit, I allow him to play the primary role of “the muscle” and focus on patching the minor injuries our target continuously complains about until Wiz shuts him up by very humorlessly stating that if he can handle a dick in the ass, he can handle a needle to the toe.
Not exactly the same thing, but valid point.
It takes a little longer than I would’ve guessed for everything to get settled yet when it is, there’s no reluctance from Wiz to inform us. “Done.”
I cut my attention away where I was staring out his floor to ceiling glass walls for possible bogies and over to the device Blu’s holding.
“Everything?” my partner asks, needing more information before we can officially leave since it’s not like we can just call up Guggenheim like tech support for this shit.
“Codename Songbird has been flagged. The system is set to alert me to any mentions or assignments using that tag going forward and is pulling up all mentions or assignments previously posted with that tag dating back to a few weeks before Songbird’s first attack. It’s gonna take me some time to sort through the data and pull anything usable so for now? Yeah. We’re done.”
“Roger that,” leaves me at the same time I grab the syringe from the top of my bag. “Thank you for your service, Wiz.”
“Blumel tell you where to send the payment?”
“I did,” he reassures on my behalf. “And will do the second we end this call.”
“I’ll be in touch.”
The click of his device is followed by the click of mine into the neck of Guggenheim. “For the pain.”
“How mighty kind of you,” he grumps and gives the spot on his neck a small rub. “Quite the change from your other…much more…barbaric behaviors.”
Rather than retort, I simply grin and watch him drowsily collapse forward, forehead landing on the keyboard his hands just left.
“Is itreallythough?” Reynolds asks between snickers. “How long will he be out?”
“Depends on how fast his body metabolizes the shit.” Sealing the syringe in the disposal bag, I toss it near his feet for the cleanup crew to get rid of as well. “The dose should be enough to keep him out while the team tidies. He’ll wake up with athrobbingheadache and not remember anything. Hopefully, Wiz is as good as he says he is and has covered his tracks.”
Blu looks up the instant he’s sent the payment to the charity we were instructed. “Why must you second guess my outside resources?”
“New Zealand.” Snatching up my bag, I command to the other conscious male in the room, “Make the call.”
Reynolds nods his understanding at the same time Blu grouses, “One contact! Over all our years together I hadone contactnot pan out!”
“She was kind of a big one, Blu.”
“It wasn’t…she wasn’t…the whole thing,” he fumbles over his words during our exiting of the room. “It um…it-”
