Red Dawn (17 page)

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Authors: J.J. Bonds

BOOK: Red Dawn
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“On it.” Nik shifts the rented BMW into gear and maneuvers the car into rush hour traffic. We follow Jacobs for several blocks and he doesn’t use his turn signal once. He’s not exactly a courteous driver, I decide. Fortunately, he’s easy to tail with morning gridlock in full effect. Still, I’m relieved when Jacobs swings his Range Rover into a squat parking garage.

The garage is private and requires a permit for entry. Nik and I roll past looking for street parking. We score a spot at the end of the block which gives us a clear view of the midrise that houses Black & Associates. As it turns out, it’s attached to the garage where Jacobs parked his car.

“We should split up,” I suggest, craning my neck to look around as Nik parks the beamer. “You check the garage. Find Jacobs’ car and check to see if there are any other exits from the garage. I’m going into the lobby to see what, if any, other businesses are in the building. We can meet back here in fifteen minutes.”

“Are you sure you want to split up?” Nik asks, looking concerned.

“I’m sure,” I tell him as I open my door. “It’s broad daylight. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“You’re the boss,” he teases. Nik hits the lock button and the car alarm beeps in confirmation. “In fact, I’m starting to wonder if you’ve done this before,” he says, echoing my thoughts from the night before.

“Yeah, well, I’m a quick study,” I retort. “Besides, it just makes sense doesn’t it?”

We make our way down the block at a brisk pace. I’m marginally aware of the fact that neither of us is wearing a jacket despite the bitter winter chill. All around us people are bundled up in their heaviest winter gear. Hats, scarves, mittens. They walk with their heads down in an attempt to ward off the biting wind. It works in our favor. No one is paying attention to us. Maybe they wouldn’t anyway. I recall that people have a tendency to avoid making eye contact with strangers in the city.

Nik and I part ways in front of Black & Associates. I enter the lobby trying to look as if I belong among the throng of busy professional types that flood the building. The place is bustling. There are people coming and going every which way. While they all wear the bored faces and obligatory suits of harried business professionals, they all share one other glaringly obvious trait: they’re not human.

As far as I can tell, they’re all vamps. I watch their beautiful, fluid movements and it reminds me of organized chaos. The only place I’ve ever seen this many vamps together is at Crossroads. The only humans in sight are the receptionist and the Fed Ex guy towing a dolly full of packages toward the elevator. I wonder if either of them has any idea what’s really going on in this place. Do they sense how different they are from those around them?

I move purposefully toward the directory, not wanting to draw undue attention to myself. The directory lists various departments: acquisitions, training, research, blah, blah, blah. So the investment firm is the only business housed here. Interesting. Given its limited public records, it seems like an awful lot of employees and real estate for a business that is practically invisible. That in itself is suspicious. It’s not exactly vamp style to strive for low key. What is this place?

I decide it’s probably time to get the hell out of dodge. I move toward the exit, but I’m not fast enough. As I reach for the door, a security guard grabs my arm. Panic sets in. Even with my strength and training, there’s no way I can fight my way out. I’m seriously outnumbered.

“Miss?” The guards tone is bored. I turn to look at him and he releases his grip on me. “I think you dropped this.” He’s holding a hotel key card. I recognize the logo. It’s the one from the hotel we stayed at last night. It must be mine. I pat my back pocket only to confirm that it’s empty. The card must have slipped out. Not good.

“Thanks,” I say, grabbing the card. I push through the heavy door and sigh with relief as I lose myself in the pedestrian traffic crowding the street. That was a little too close.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

Back at the car, I wait anxiously for Nik. He’s late. That’s not like him and I find myself twisting in my seat impatiently. What could be taking him so long? I desperately hope he didn’t run into trouble.

I’m stuck there twisting in the wind for another ten minutes as my imagination takes control. I theorize all kinds of things- none of them pleasant- that might have happened to Nik at the hands of the vamps inside Black & Associates.

When Nik finally shows up, I’m beside myself with worry. And annoyance. I punch him in the arm without explanation.

“Ow!” he yelps, giving me the evil eye. That’s a new development. I can’t remember Nik ever looking angry at me. “What was that for?”

“For scaring the crap out of me!” I yell at him. “I thought something bad happened to you.”

“You were worried about me?” His face lights up and I can actually see his head getting bigger to accommodate his inflated ego. It’s a wonder he can even fit it through the door. The smile isn’t half bad though. I do love that dimple. “And here I thought you didn’t care.”

“I don’t,” I lie. “But I do need your help, which means I need you in one piece. Preferably living and breathing.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” he tells me looking amused. “It’ll be much more fun that way.”

“Whatever. Now, how about you tell me what you found?” I ask, changing the subject. We have much bigger things to worry about right now than our dysfunction.

“Good news. Jacobs’ car is in the garage and there are no other vehicle exits, so unless he leaves on foot, we’ve got him,” Nik confirms. “If he leaves on foot…”

“We’re screwed,” I finish. Between the garage and the midrise there are probably more than a handful of exits. There’s no way we can watch them all.

I give Nik a quick rundown on what I discovered inside. He doesn’t look surprised. Maybe he was expecting as much. I don’t know if that’s a relief or a greater cause for alarm.

“Oh, and Nik? There is one other thing.”

“What’s that?” he asks looking wary.

“We should probably change hotels tonight.” He smiles, but thankfully doesn’t bother asking for an explanation.

We watch the front of the building all morning. Talk about boring! It doesn’t take long to figure out that Nik is much better at this whole stakeout thing. It seems he can sit for hours without talking or moving, while I fidget nonstop unable to contain myself.

“This isn’t going to get us anywhere,” I announce as I tap my feet on the dashboard. I turn in my seat to face Nik. “Jacobs has been in there for hours. Who knows when he’s coming out? Can’t you call Blaine and see what he’s got?”

“Be patient, Katia. I know you’re anxious, but what he does is far more difficult than it appears. He’ll call us when he’s got something.”

“We need information. Isn’t that his specialty?” I reason. “Just check in with him. Please?”

“Alright,” he agrees. “But only because you asked so nicely.”

“Good. Tell him we need to know which floor Jacobs’ office is on and how to get past security.” Nik looks at me suspiciously. He doesn’t appear to like where this is going. “If Black & Associates is a shell company, then it stands to reason that the theft is tied to this place and not Jacobs’ personal life. If he still has the hard drive, it’s in there. We have to get in there and look for it. And we need a way to get past a safe if we find one.”

“Anything else?” he asks.

“No,” I tell him, smiling triumphantly. “That should do it for now.”

*********

“You do know this is crazy, right?” Nik asks, looking more than a little uncomfortable.

“There was a time when I would have agreed with you,” I tell him, “but nothing seems impossible anymore.”

“I’m just saying that maybe we should spend a little more time on the actual planning phase,” he argues. “It could mean the difference between living and dying.”

“Or it could mean the difference between success and failure,” I counter as I look over the items strewn across my bed. I do a quick inventory. We’ve been busy. Instead of wasting the afternoon watching Jacobs’ building, we’ve been putting our plan in motion. “We don’t have the luxury of time.”

Nik growls with frustration.

“Besides, security will be light. Blaine said there will only be one guard on duty overnight.”

“Yes, but aren’t you forgetting something?” he asks.

“What?” I ask, running through the plan in my head and checking for flaws.

“The place is wired like Fort Knox,” he reminds me.

“Not going to be a problem,” I tell him confidently. “We just need to avoid tripping the alarms until we’ve got the hard drive. How difficult can it be?”

“Famous last words,” Nik mutters, pushing a stray lock of hair back from his forehead.

Thanks to Blaine’s sticky fingers we now have the blueprints for Black & Associates as well as the specs on their security system. Nik and I have spent the last hour or so studying the layout and devising a plan of attack. He’s right. It won’t exactly be easy, but we’re counting on the element of surprise. And Keegan’s connections to the criminal element.

Fortunately for us, Keegan was a total delinquent before coming to Crossroads. With his assistance, we’ve been able to secure a small amount of C4, some blasting caps, and an expedient course on explosives. It should be more than enough to take out a small office safe according to the guy who sold it to us. Ordinarily, I’d be concerned with how easy it is to secure explosives on the open market, but since it works in my favor, I’m not complaining.

“I know my plan isn’t perfect,” I tell Nik.

“Babe, it’s far from perfect,” he corrects me. The devilish smile on his face confirms that he’s with me all the way.

“But it’s the only one we’ve got.”

“Let’s just run through it again before we go,” Nik suggests, peeling off his bulky sweater. He’s not wearing anything underneath and I find myself staring shamelessly. Hell’s bells! His body is perfect. Muscular arms, trim chest, rock solid abs that disappear into his low slung jeans. I bring my hand up to check for drool and am disappointed when he pulls a t-shirt over his head, effectively ending my peepshow.

“It’s not that complicated,” I pout. “We sneak in with the janitorial crew, steal a master key and head for Jacobs’ office. Piece of cake.”

*********

We arrive at the office early and wait out front for the cleaning crew. The place is deserted at this hour. Everyone’s long gone in search of happy hour, Pilates, or whatever it is that provides stress relief after a long day at the office. We’re cooling our heels on a bench when the maintenance supervisor arrives. He’s easy to spot. His name is Miguel and he looks just like the picture Blaine provided.

Miguel arrives first, wearing a blue polo shirt. Nik and I have donned brown polos and matching hats to blend in with the remainder of the maintenance crew. We’ve looked better, but it’ll do. I’ve got the blueprints and other materials we’ve gathered in a canvas bag that’s slung over my shoulder.

Nik hurries to intercept Miguel before the rest of his team arrives. Since I’m still learning to master compulsion, Nik’s taking the lead. The last thing we need is for the effect to wear off before we’re through. The idea is not to get caught. At least not until we’ve got the hard drive.

“Hola!” Nik says, approaching Miguel. At the sound of his native language, he turns. Miguel looks like a pleasant enough guy. He’s a little thick around the middle, but he’s got an easy smile and warm brown eyes. And evidently he’s got a soft spot for strangers with abysmal Spanish accents.

“We need your help,” Nik tells him, turning compelling eyes on Miguel. He steps close to Miguel, leaving very little space between them.  Nik’s words are soft, hypnotic even. Impossible to resist.

“What can I do for you?” Miguel asks, looking from Nik to me and back again. He has a thick accent, but his English is pretty good, which is probably why he runs the crew. “I will help if I can.”

“My friend and I are going to join your cleaning crew.” Nik’s words are delivered purposefully. They sound rhythmic even to my ears although I’m immune to his charms. “We’re going to start tonight because your crew is shorthanded.”

“Si, you must start tonight,” Miguel agrees mindlessly. He nods his head looking like a bobble head doll. “We have much work to do.”

I watch intently as Miguel’s pupils dilate. He’s falling under Nik’s spell and it occurs to me that it’s obscene how easy it is to manipulate humans. They don’t stand a chance against us.

“Our references are impeccable,” Nik continues. “You don’t need to know our names and you will forget our faces after tonight.”

“No need for names,” Miguel says, “because you’re hard workers.”

“Very good,” Nik tells him looking pleased. “We’ll wait here with you until the others arrive.”

“Si, si.”

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

So far, so good. We enter with the cleaning crew and pass right by security without a second glance. The night guard is lazy and doesn’t bother to check ID’s or make us sign in. He’s probably seen this lot come and go several times a week for as long as he can remember. The guard is watching a basketball game and barely looks up. He gives Miguel a curt nod and returns to yelling at the screen. I note he’s got several monitors showing live feeds of the buildings’ interior. One can only hope he’s so enamored by the game that he doesn’t pay them much attention as the cleaning crew moves through the building.

“Keep your head down,” Nik whispers, adjusting the ugly brown hat covering his soft curls and masking his face from the security cameras. I do as he says and check to make sure my hair is tucked up inside my own ball cap.

We follow Miguel to the maintenance room where we find wall to wall brooms, mops, vacuums, and other assorted supplies. Following the lead of the regular janitorial staff, Nik and I each grab a rolling maintenance cart. The carts are big, bulky, and fully stocked with cleaning supplies. We linger, waiting for the others to leave. When we are alone with Miguel again, Nik demands his key card. As the supervisor, Miguel has an all access pass which will allow us to enter the executive suite where Jacobs’ office is located. Miguel hands the card over without question. If asked, he’ll say he lost it.

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