“We’re going for totally empty, right?” He straightens his gloves, green eyes dark in the dim light of the van.
“Yup.” Pulling out the case of earpieces, I distribute one to each of them. “I’m assuming you got a truck?” I ask him.
“I went the free route, just in case.”
“Any problems?” Walker clarifies.
“With stealing a rental truck? No. Of course not.”
Walker shakes his head at our resident thief. “I guess for you, that’s easy. Let’s hope that the code name Trips shared works, so that’s easy, too.”
They both head out the back, checking their mics as they get buckled in the purloined truck. Meanwhile, I send my drone out again, wanting eyes on them just in case things don’t go to plan.
Jansen lets out a long whistle when they get into the blackmail storage unit, my device working flawlessly. “Man, you should see all this stuff.”
Walker cuts through a moment later. “He’s got a paper registry of everything in here. And it’s thick.”
“Of course it’s paper,” I grumble.
They’re quiet, mumbling more to each other than to me as they flip through whatever the bastard has there.
“Should we keep it? Just in case?” Walker asks.
Jansen’s angry voice answers before I do. “If we keep it, we’re no better than he is.”
“The names in here, though. People should know what their best and brightest are really up to.”
Jansen’s huff of frustration is clear. “Listen, I’m as much of a crook as anybody, but who’s to say these people did whatever without coercion, without being set up by that man? We know that’s the way it’s been for Trips and Clara. If these people are really as rotten as they look and they’re used to having someone make their messes disappear, well, they’ll screw up again. Eventually.”
Knowing I’ll be the deciding vote, I voice my thoughts. “Can one of you bring it to me? It’s going to take forever to get the data collated, and we don’t have forever. But I see both of your points. We can decide once we’re done here.”
“Got it,” Jansen says. “I’ll meet you at the truck.”
“Wait, you’re not going to help?” Walker asks.
“I’ll be back. I’m taking a shortcut.”
Then I watch from the hovering drone as Jansen trots out to the fence by me—and after doing something with his jacket and the huge binder—climbs over. A few moments later, he pops open the back end.
“Delivery!” he sings, throwing the heavy tome at me.
“Shit,” I curse as it almost takes out my monitor, saved only because I toss the controller for the drone on the desk. The visuals take a deep swoop, and I chuck the binder back at Jansen’s laughing face, barely pulling the thing out of a precipitous dive toward the top of the storage unit.
“Ow,” he whines, rubbing his nose. “You weren’t supposed to throw it back.”
“You weren’t supposed to throw it in the first place,” I bark.
Jansen looks sheepish as he realizes how mad I am at his antics.
Walker’s chuckles sound on the speakers. “I never would have guessed that hauling this shit by myself was the better job.”
“Set the book on the table. Please,” I force out, not wanting things to escalate any more than they already have.
“On it,” Jansen says, still rubbing his nose, setting the binder on the corner and pushing it closer with one foot.
“What’s that for?”
“You’re violent tonight. And I’ve only got one nose. I’d rather keep it looking its best.”
