Page 61 of Wicked Rush

The lab computers deliberately lacked USB or other ports, so that files could not be imported or exported. Yet the specialized chip was designed with state-of-the-art technology that gave it the capability to secure a connection to any device within five feet, copying files without detection. Special coding within the device erased any evidence that she’d accessed the files. Emerson Industries held the patent on the top secret technology, and its existence had not been disclosed to the general public.

Braelynn clicked on the Mead files, pretending to scroll through them. Sliding her hand into her jeans pocket, she dug her nail into the coin’s edge, and depressed the mechanism that opened it. When she’d first received it from Garrett, she’d practiced opening it a hundred times in the privacy of her home. It had taken her several attempts before she was able to do it without looking. As it clicked, and she fingered the freed drive, her eyes flared with determination.

Braelynn blew out a breath, and switched screens. Continuing her task, she tapped the tiny button, activating the device, and prayed it worked. Leaning closer to the desk, she hoped to block the camera’s view of her clandestine activity. Her heart caught as the display flickered, finally retrieving the list she needed. Clicking on HWB614, she counted thirty files. Braelynn set her cursor at number one and double clicked. As each file copied, it lit up in succession. Ten seconds passed, and it moved onto the next one. Running through the math, she realized she needed approximately five minutes, then the elimination program would initiate, scrubbing the server and any virtual locations of the data. At five after twelve, she’d run out of time, and if Jeannette returned, she’d be caught in the act.

Hurry up, hurry up, she repeated silently, still attempting to appear as if she was reading the report. Nonchalantly, she picked up the folder and began to loosen the pages. Surprisingly, they easily separated from their binding, but as she did so, one fell onto the floor. As she bent to retrieve it, she caught sight of Shane passing by through the door window. Quickly snatching the sheet, she glanced at the list of names of people who appeared to be working with foreign investors. Projects. Dollar amounts. Names. What the hell is this? She glanced to the screen, remembering the download, noting the files had begun disappearing into oblivion. Ten remained. Five. Three. Two. The black display teased her, and she clicked the screen, attempting to find HWB614.

Braelynn gave a ragged breath at her small victory. Emotion bubbled inside her chest but she shoved it away, maintaining her focus. She glanced to the door. Seeing no one, she closed out her session. Her life was at stake, and she was still inside the walls of Bart-Aqua, a prisoner of her circumstances, but freedom beckoned.

With the cameras recording, she’d have to perform a sleight of hand: a deliberate accident. She loosed her fingers, the entire folder slipping between her legs. As it fell to the ground, the dislodged contents spilled out. She bent over, her head barely missing the edge of the desk. Reaching for the documents, she tugged the remaining leaflets from the sleeve, and shifted them underneath it. As she sat up, she folded the papers once over. Keeping the folder close to her chest, she slipped the documents under her shirt, giving a firm tuck into her pants.

Three minutes, and Lars will call the police.She quickly stood, using her key card to open the file cabinet. Haphazardly shoving the emptied folder into its slot, she didn’t wait for it to shut, and headed toward the door. As she wrapped her fingers around the knob, she checked the hallway, making sure no one was watching before heading toward the fire exit.

Braelynn had ruled out taking the elevator, suspecting that security could suspend it, trapping her. She pushed through the doors to the stairway, aware that eyes in the sky tracked her every move. With the chip in her pocket, she began her descent. She traveled quickly but not too fast, attempting to maintain typical behavior. It wasn’t unheard of for employees to take the stairs. Exercise was encouraged and practically everyone who worked for her uncle was in good shape. She imagined he cherry picked the healthiest and youngest applicants, discriminating but ensuring lower insurance costs.

By the time Braelynn reached the tenth floor, she had begun to increase her pace. Holding onto the rail, she loped down the steps. Fifth floor. Fourth. Third. Her pulse raced, adrenaline surging through her veins. Soon she was running, noting she was out of time. Twelve seventeen. Her spirits dropped. So close, but not good enough. The police would come for her. There was no explaining her actions. As her feet hit the landing, alarms sounded, and she burst through the exit door, sprinting through the lobby.

Braelynn flew by the guard, whose back was turned. Her lungs burned, but running out of sheer terror, she pressed onward. As she slammed through the front entrance doors, shots rang out, whizzing past her head. Sucking air, she didn’t look back as she tore down the path to the parking lot. She spied the black SUV fifty feet away. Lars shouted to her but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. Bullets sprayed into the air, and she covered her ears. The trauma of her terrifying ordeal on the beach flooded her mind. Anger and determination set in and she began to run even harder, her thighs searing.

She ducked as bullets ricocheted off a steel lamp post. The passenger door flew open, and she dove into the car, grasping at Lars’ waist. The car jolted forward, and the door flapped open. She leaned out, reaching for the handle. Her fingers slipped and she cried out in frustration.

“Leave it!” Lars yelled as they barreled toward the gate. The guard stepped in direct line of being hit, firing off shots at the front of the car.

“No, I’ve got it.” Braelynn held tight to the seat and lunged forward. With a grunt, she clutched the handle and yanked inward, slamming it shut. Lars and Braelynn slid to the right as he swerved to avoid the security guard, rolling the SUV up over the concrete barrier and onto the grass.

“You okay?” Lars wrestled the car under control and drove it onto the main highway.

“They won’t come for us out here.” Braelynn stared out the windshield, stunned by their escape.

“No, they’ll do it far away from their nice little corporate center.”

“He’s going to kill me.” She shook her head.

“He’s going to jail.”

“We have to get this data to…” Don’t say it. Leave him be, her conscience warned.

“To who? Jesus Christ, I wish you’d fucking trust me.” He banged the heel of his hand on the steering wheel.

Braelynn shook as he yelled at her. She deserved it, she knew. Maybe it’s better he’s angry. I’m leaving. As soon as they returned to his house, she’d collect her things, and drive to Emerson Industries. Lars had told her he’d help her leave San Diego but they hadn’t discussed the specifics. She couldn’t bear the thought of long goodbyes at the airport. In her mind, the plan was set; turn over the data to Garrett, and drive straight to the airport.

“Brae,” she heard him say, breaking her contemplation.

“You know I can’t talk about it.” She reached up into her shirt, revealing the papers. Tugging them from her clothes, she shuffled them into a neat pile and laid them on her lap. She stabbed her hand into her pocket and fished out the tiny chip. “I have all the files. The program worked. Everything’s deleted. And they can’t claim to have had something stolen that never belonged to them to begin with.”

“But the question remains…who gave it to them? If they stole it once, they could take it again.”

“True, but they don’t have me.” Braelynn wasn’t sure what Garrett Emerson would do with the information. Although she’d theorized the practical implications of her research, she couldn’t be certain others would draw the same conclusions. At least at Emerson Industries, she could be assured that if it got stolen again, she would not be there. I can’t save the world. In truth, she would have given her life for it, almost had, but losing Lars would be penance for her mistakes. She’d never be the same.

“You need to tell me where it’s going.”

“You know I can’t. I’m sorry, Lars.” She buried her face in her palms. If she made eye contact, she’d burst into tears. He and Garrett were good friends. She didn’t need him to fight her battles. And she had no intention of causing a rift between them. “You don’t need this trouble. You don’t need me. You’ve got yourself a nice life. Great dog. Beautiful home. And you’ve worked hard and deserve it. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me but you have an amazing future in front of you and don’t need to worry about me.”

“Really. That is your answer?” He blew out a breath and shook his head.

“Lars, you know I can’t…”

“No,” he interrupted, anger in his voice. “It’s not that you can’t. No, Dr. Rollins, you won’t tell me. Can’t and won’t are two entirely different things. Now you can pull this clearance shit with me all you want but somewhere along the line, despite everything between us, I earned a little trust. I was on that beach getting shot at that day. But I still respected this bullshit clearance excuse. I get it. I work for the government. But guess what? Today I got shot at again. So fuck clearances. No, I deserve to know what the hell is going on. But I guess if you won’t tell me, if you really plan on getting in your car when we get back…on leaving…hey, I wish you the best of luck. I’m getting off this fucked up carnival ride. I thought maybe you and I…”

“You thought what?” she asked, trembling.

“Nothing. You and I nothing. It was a memorable weekend. Nothing more. Nothing less.” He let out a loud exhale, and tapped at his cell screen.

His words speared through her heart. Nothing. She was nothing to him. Even if he’d said it out of anger, perhaps there was truth in his words. His disdain was welcome, making it all the more easy for her to get in her car and roll away.

“Fuck, Seth. Pick up, man. Where the fuck are you?” Garrett slammed his phone onto the seat and turned into his driveway.

As they approached the house, Braelynn caught sight of a man running across the side yard. By the time they pulled into the carport, he’d disappeared down to the beach. The front door, wide open, swung in the wind. Bright red streaks were smeared across its white surface.

“Stay here,” Lars ordered.

Without another word, he tore out of the car and into the house. Braelynn opened her door and called out to Sasha, who romped toward her. She fell to her knees, wrapping her arms into the dog’s warm fur. She craned her head, stretching to see a black sedan parked along the left side of the house. Her heart sped as Sasha growled. The crackling of footsteps along the dry stone landscaping alerted her to his presence. As she turned, she flinched as the blow landed across her jaw. A sharp pain to her skull registered seconds after he’d hit her, and as she lay up looking at him, her world blurred.

“Lars,” she breathed. As her world went dark, she pictured herself in his loving arms, and swore if she survived, she’d never leave him.