“Holy fucking shit!”
Devin’s sudden outburst made Sam jerk in reaction, his body immediately reminding him that was a bad idea when pain streaked through him. He fired off a curse but kept moving. He knew there was nothing dangerous in the immediate area, which meant his friend had found something. Orla moved faster, and Sam reached the workstation to see the briefcase open and filled with some sort of foam, a clear rectangle cut out of the middle... and it was empty.
“You’re kidding me.” Orla wasn’t happy, and she wasn’t the only one. “What was in the briefcase? And why isn’t it there anymore?”
Devin removed the foam and examined the briefcase until he finally removed the GPS dot embedded in the lining. “Nothing there. Not anymore.”
Sam frowned. “Well, whoever is after us doesn’t know the briefcase is empty. Those guys were probably the ones who got their hands on Mr. Black. And if they did, Mr. Black probably told them where the briefcase was, and the GPS linked to it. Personally, if the scenario were to get information on their organization, I would use Black to get every bit of information I possibly could.”
“But who are they? We were looking for ways to stop the spread of Phantom after the bid. Is there another player?” Devin swiveled his chair, clearly trying to make sense of it all.
“Maybe it’s one of the losers, trying to make sure the winner never reaps the benefits from Phantom. After all, they attacked during Black and White’s party, even kidnapping one of the heads of the organization. It’s a possibility that it was an attempt to bring them down. If down, there would be another bid.”
Orla made a lot of sense, and even Devin tended to agree with her but with his own interpretation. “Or, if the attackers’ goal was to get what was in this briefcase and kill Black and White, I suspect Black is still alive and will remain so until they get their hands on whatever it is they’re searching for. Until White bends his knees and surrenders.”
“And White, whoever he is, must be deep in hiding. We must find him. He might have an idea on who his attacker is. If we are very lucky, he may even tell us the name of the Phantom’s official owner. So many trails, so little time. Dude, do you want me to call the others in on this?”
Devin was speaking carefully, watching his words around Orla and Sam wasn’t sure what to do. Part of him wanted to trust the woman, but would that be a mistake and put his friends and Noctem at risk?
“Are you still searching White’s real name? And any information you can dig on him? And see if you can find out who those mercenaries are? Do you have time for that? Once we have an initial assessment, we’ll decide if we should bring in the others.”
“I always have time for you, mate. It’s a lot of digging through the paperwork of the main company. I doubt that Mr. White is his real name; otherwise, I would have found his identity already. Don’t worry, I make it my personal business to smoke him out. Now, go get those painkillers so you can be operational. And both of you rest. I’ll bring you some food in a bit. There’s a shower through that door. Everything is rudimentary, but comfortable. There are coded locks inside and out, and I’ll be on overwatch to make sure you’re safe.”
Devin typed a few keys on the array of computers, the screens flickered before going dark, and he left by a side door. Sam’s body started screaming louder for his attention.
Orla went to the computer and clicked a few keys but to no avail. Without a word, she went to the door and tried to open it.
When she kicked the reinforced steel in obvious frustration, Sam smiled. “It seems Devin doesn’t want you wandering around or touching his baby. No wonder, you pissed him off.”
“What if there’s a fire or an emergency?”
“I’m sure Devin has a contingency plan. Hell, his contingency plans have contingency plans.”
When Sam put his hand around his middle and turned to the bathroom, he saw Orla’s expression turn from annoyance to worry. He found the painkillers and swallowed a couple and eyed the shower, but that would mean removing his mask, something he was still debating. As he replaced his mask over his mouth, Orla entered the bathroom and leaned against the door jamb.
“I can’t see your face, but the way the bruises are blooming on your torso and abdomen, you must feel like hell. And you’re far from comfortable with your mask on.”
When Sam didn’t answer, she shook her head and sighed. “If I promise——vow—never to reveal your secret, would you believe me?”
He didn’t look at her, remaining in place, his hands braced on the sides of the sink. “In my line of work, trust doesn’t come easy. Especially when I know a particular journalist is on a mission to discover who I am.”
The look on her face said it all. Since he’d first decided to follow Orla, digging into her had been a priority, and placing bugs at her desk, child’s play. It hadn’t been a real surprise to him to discover she was trying to identify him, after all, Orla Karlsen had always followed the best mysteries in the city, and apart from Phantom, the vigilante had been the best of all.
“I would be lying if I said you hadn’t drawn my interest. I’m working to uncover the truth, and you’re working in the shadows, on the wrong side of the law. You can’t expect me, or anyone for that matter, not to look into this. Into you.”
Sam was pragmatic and understood her reasons, but part of him hated she saw him as a criminal. It made his skin crawl and his blood boil. “That’s your take on what I do? That I’m no better than the fuck-ups at the party.”
Pushing past her, he decided he’d had enough, and apart from a full-fledged confrontation, there was nothing to do but rest his sore body.
His patience wearing thin, his reaction preceded his logic, and he turned when she tried to stop him by grabbing his elbow, disengaging her and trapping her against the wall.
There was a flash of fright in her blue eyes, and a perverse part of him was glad. If she thought he was such a monster, he’d prove it to her.
“Don’t push me. You don’t know me, who I am, who I was, and what I’m capable of. And I’m not going to be your next headline.”
When she opened her mouth, he stepped back and released her. Why did this woman get to him so deep and fast like a sharp blade?
“I get the room. You get the sofa. Sleep well, Orla.”
