She sat back and blinked. “Raider?” she whispered, her voice gone for some reason.
“Yeah?” He opened the door, his face bruised and his eyes exhausted. “You got it?”
Elation caught her and spun her around. “Yes.” She really did. Right there. “Three shipments, two Port of Los Angeles, and one Port of Seattle. Times, cargo numbers, and plans to retrieve.” Smiling, she printed the information off and handed it over. “Call the FBI.”
“Gladly.” He smiled, took the paper, and then disappeared.
She’d done it. They all had. The FBI had plenty of time to save those girls and get them home. She looked around. For so long, she’d done what the HDD had told her, fearing repercussions. Not anymore. Finally, she was home.
It was time to face her handlers, no matter the cost.
Chapter Forty-Two
When Raider fetched the document he’d spent an hour printing off, there was so much pain in his body that he’d turned numb. Numb wasn’t a bad place to be, truth be told. Malcolm and Wolfe were wrapping things up with the FBI and SWAT teams in case room one, Brigid was still in the computer room, and he had a short time to get everything in place. The elevator dinged, and Angus Force escorted a battered and bruised but still walking Sean Banaghan into the bullpen.
Raider tapped the papers into order on his desk. “Hey. I thought you had a collapsed lung?”
“Nope,” Sean said. “Just a couple of bruises and broken ribs. No big deal.”
Man, the guy was tough. Raider looked at Force. “Your dog is snoring in your office.”
“Hey.” Force limped by him, pain etched into the lines bracketing his mouth. “I have a couple more phone calls to make, and I need a shot of Jack Daniel’s. Give me a sec.” He shut the door to his office.
Sean wore a Red Sox hat, green sweatshirt, and jeans, his boots looking right at home on him. His green eyes sizzled above the bruises on his face. “You look like you lost a game of chicken with a semi.”
“Feel like it, too.” Raider gestured to Wolfe’s desk, which faced and abutted Raider’s. “Have a seat.”
Sean looked around and dropped into the chair. “Where’s my girl?”
“In her computer room. I think she’s asleep,” Raider said, dropping onto his chair and letting all of his bruised bones clatter together. “She’s amazing, man. Just deciphered a computer code very few people in the world would even attempt, and in about five hours, a bunch of terrified women and girls are going to be saved from a horrible fate. Shesavedthem.”
Sean smiled. “She’s a smart one, she is.”
She was beyond smart. Sweet, kind, intelligent, spunky, and beautiful. It was way too early, but Raider wanted to plan a visit for her to meet Miss A, maybe at the end of summer.
Sean cleared his throat. “I guess you could date her. You don’t seem so bad.”
High praise, indeed. “I think that’s up to her.” Raider grinned. He’d definitely jumped the gun, declaring love so soon, but it was true, so why not say it? To think he’d thought he wanted somebody pliant and predictable. Ha. Brigid was neither of those things. Though he’d probably have to date her for a while and convince her that nice guys who followed the law were better than rebels without a clue.
Sometimes he had a clue.
Force limped out of his office and sat in Mal’s chair, wheezing when he moved. “Just heard from the hospital. Nari is better and her memory is returning, which is good. Dana’s online podcast has a zillion hits already, and she’s busy typing up an exposé for the AP, so we might be okay.”
Sean studied Force. “Did you get hit by a train?”
“Close enough. I let the whole team know that Brigid didn’t betray us at any point, and I apologized profusely to her for not being nice. Then she fell asleep.” Force put his head back and groaned. “Is it just me, or are these cases getting harder?”
“You’d better be nice to my girl,” Sean muttered, rubbing a bruise on his chin.
Raider prodded the bruise on his temple. One of the many bruises on his temple. “Every member of our team, except Roscoe, has some sort of damage, so yeah. It’s getting worse.”
Force opened one eye. “Not Malcolm. He remained intact during this one.”
Raider shook his head. “Nope. He took a knife to the ribs and left thigh. Wolfe stitched him up a couple hours ago, and there was swearing. A lot of swearing. West can string expletives together in a truly impressive fashion.”
“Huh.” Force gingerly prodded the long steering-wheel-shaped bruise on his forehead. “The dog always manages, somehow. We should take lessons.”
Raider snorted. “That dog is freakin’ nuts. Though, he was all business on the raid.”
