“What are you–” one of the bouncers started, bellowing, trying to be intimidating.
Reese whirled, graceful as a ballerina, and roundhouse kicked the man in the face.
~*~
“Getting dogpiled by security,” Fox said, when Eden asked where the boys were. He gripped his cellphone between his cheek and shoulder and the lock he’d been picking turned over with a quiet click. “They’re buying me some time.”
Her chuckle was more of a groan. “Can you all please try not to wind up on the news?”
“No promises. I’ll be the one in the trucker cap, by the way, when the security footage leaks.”
“Ah. That sounds promising.”
He didn’t say,Relax, darling, I’m going to wipe the tapes. He didn’t have to; she would already know that.
That was the beautiful thing about their relationship: they might bicker over everyday, mundane nonsense, but both trusted the other’s professional skills to the hilt.
Fox slipped quickly past the door he’d picked and shut it behind him. It had a keypad out in the hall, for keycard access, but a place in the knob for an old-fashioned key, too. No alarms sounded, and no red lights started blinking on the display before him – which proved quite more sophisticated than the typical security office one would expect in a dump like this.
There were three desks, all boasting triple monitor computer setups, flash drives plugged into every available port. A bank of TVs on one wall flickered constantly through security feeds, all of it crisp and HD. A row of wireless printers sat lined up on a table. No file cabinets, but most dirty deeds were conducted digitally, these days; sin was easier without a paper trail.
The whole back wall was a window, and it must have been one-way glass, because he hadn’t noticed it down below. He thumbed the door lock, then made his way there. Several stools sat before the window, which offered a perfect vantage point of the dance floor.
Not at all unusual in a club. But…
He spared a glance at the dance floor’s current activity – Reese and Tenny were actively fighting with the bouncers, now – and then turned to check the monitors.
As expected, the bouncers in here had been pulled on short notice, and the browser windows they’d been looking at were still open.
“Where are you now?” Eden asked in his ear, hushed, like she was the one sneaking around. He knew she was getting a vicarious thrill out of this, and the thought warmed his insides pleasantly.
“Office,” he said, ducking down to the monitor. Three tabs were open, two live video streams of the dance floor, zoomed in so that he could see the blend of shock and horror on the faces of the kids gaping at the fight. Despite the darkness, the footage was clear enough to make out eye color; one girl leaned in to whisper to another and he could read her lips as she said,Like, I know this is so fucked up, but they’re pretty hot.
The third open window was an active chat of some sort. The last three messages had gone unanswered.
B:The blonde.
B:Did u get that?
B:Answer me!!!
Fox found the mouse and scrolled back up to the last sent message.
N: Which 1?
And, above that:3 w/ fake IDs. Attached was a screenshot from one of the camera feeds, a glimpse of three girls coming in through the plastic strips at the vestibule, arms linked together, all of them fresh-faced, and shiny-haired, dressed more for a twirl on a pole than a night on the town.
Just like that, Fox wasn’t feeling so skeptical anymore. “Shit,” he murmured.
Eden said, “What?”
“Not sure yet.” He pulled out his phone and snapped a few pictures. “No reason to think this outfit’s involved with Abacus, but something’s not right, either.”
Little dots appeared in the chat window, and a new message popped up.
B: where the fuck are you?
Fox typed backballs-deep in your mom, then exited the window. He scanned the desktop tabs, and saw they were all saved to the flash drives. He pulled them out, and pocketed them.
