60. -59-
Nina
The black file sat on the passenger seat like it weighed a hundred pounds. Adrenaline pumped through my veins while Lucas kept talking, explaining the plan through the car speakers, but I barely listened.
My best friend warned me not to look inside. Who knew what kind of secrets it contained? But eventually, my curiosity won, and I stopped the car in the parking lot before the shopping center. People rushed in and out, no one really paying attention to me as I leafed through the pages.
“Oh my God,” I gasped. “This is evidence.”
“Evidence?” Lucas’s voice echoed through the car’s Bluetooth. “You opened the file, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” I confirmed mindlessly, checking the photos. “Malin gathered evidence about the people behind the abduction. It’s all there.” A frown contorted my face. “Fuck,” I mumbled. “This is a prosecution.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have picked up the phone,” Lucas groaned, the typing of his fingers resonating in the background. “Does it say where the boy is?”
“No.” I studied the last few pages, but the location wasn’t there. “Just names put into a hierarchy.”
“Okay, give me a second,” he said. I raised my eyes from the disturbing photos.
One of the boys couldn’t be older than Dorian’s favorite patient. It disgusted me to the bones, so I moved on to the list of names. Some of them were powerful enough to make my stomach tighten. Not just men, but women, too.
“I sent you the link.” My phone screen lit up with a notification. “Scan the documents. We’ll check them later.”
“Okay.”
I unlocked my phone, gracefully ignoring Dorian’s texts. I was mentally prepared for the argument later, but right now, I couldn’t be distracted by his worrying.
The scanning took only a few minutes.
“I officially hate this file,” Lucas muttered once it was complete and he had clearly opened it.
“That makes two of us,” I mumbled under my breath, starting the car again.
One Police Plaza was only a couple of blocks away when I parked in the back alley. Daylight made everything harder. If something went wrong, I had to be prepared. So even when I wasn’t a huge fan of wigs, I pulled the blonde one out of my duffel bag.
“I’d only go to the receptionist desk,” Lucas uttered while I adjusted my hair. “Give them the envelope with Mallory’s name and disappear.”
“What if it gets lost?” I countered, hating the idea. We had to ensure she received it.
“Nina,” Lucas exhaled exasperatedly. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it could be for you to get caught with such a file?” I grimaced, knowing exactly where he was heading.
“They’ll lock you in a hole so deep that not even Dorian Zhumagulov, his brothers, and the New York Bratva would be able to drag you out of. ”
“We have to try,” I objected, already accepting the risks. “Find me a way inside, Lucas.”
“It’s not about finding a way inside, Nina!” He was definitely throwing his arms in the air. “It’s about getting you out! The police station is a logistical nightmare!”
“I know, but we’re the best team.” I inhaled a steady breath and opened the car door. “We can do this.”
The edge of the blonde wig scratched my forehead as I walked across the road. Lucas cursed and groaned through the earpiece, complaining about me being suicidal, but I was so used to his whining I barely registered it.
“You can still walk away,” he said before I entered the lobby and glanced around.
“And look into Matilda’s eyes like I didn’t flush her cousin’s only chance of returning home down the drain?”
“Okay, okay,” he muttered, his fingers working relentlessly. “I see you. We’re ready to go.”
“Wait.” My hand hesitated on the doorknob. “Did you just hack the NYPD?”
“I borrowed their eyes,” he replied nonchalantly, smug as ever. “Go. We have only a few minutes.”
I bit the inside of my cheek and stepped inside.
The lobby swallowed me instantly. Police officers hurried toward the elevators.
Detectives crossed the marble floor carrying overflowing case files.
Lawyers argued near security. Two suspects in handcuffs were escorted through the revolving doors while a woman screamed at someone behind the reception desk.
Nobody looked in my direction. No one cared who I was or what I was doing there.
“Straight to the elevators,” Lucas instructed, his voice barely recognizable through the thundering of my heart in my ears. “Walk casually. Don’t draw attention.”
“Yes, sir,” I teased, trying to ease the tension because my entire body was in fight mode. If someone approached me, I might easily break their nose just on instinct.
“Fourth floor.”
I pressed the button and stepped aside so others could walk in. The doors slid apart to another wave of organized chaos. Detectives rushed between offices, phones rang without pause, and someone yelled for evidence from the opposite side of the corridor.
“Left,” Lucas urged. “Mallory’s office is at the end.”
I walked down the hallway, my heartbeat matching every click of my heels.
Passing the conference room, I tried to keep my gaze away from the meeting, but my feet stopped on their own.
Behind the glass, about twenty detectives sat around a long table while a woman in a navy pantsuit stood before a whiteboard covered in photographs.
Three of them stole every bit of air from my lungs.
Zyon.
Dorian.
Malin.
Their faces stared back at me beneath the bold words:
ZHUMAGULOV ORGANIZATION
Detective Mallory pointed at Dorian’s picture, then moved to Zyon’s, gesturing sharply as she addressed the room. Even through the glass, authority radiated from her.
“Nina,” Lucas’s sharp voice jolted me out of my trance. “You have a mission to complete. Panic is on the menu later.”
Blinking to disperse the sight of Dorian behind bars, I forced my legs to move. Mallory’s office was only two doors away. The nameplate confirmed it.
Clenching my teeth, I reached for the handle, but flinched back when the door opened. A young officer stepped out carrying a stack of folders so high he barely saw where he was going. I reacted on intuition.
“Excuse me.” I smiled warmly, and he stopped.
“Yes?”
“Detective Mallory asked me to bring her this.” I lifted the black file. “But she’s still in the briefing. Can you give it to her?”
He glanced toward the conference room, shifting the folders under one arm.
“I’ll put it on her desk,” he said, yanking it from my hand.
“Thank you.”
Without another word, he turned around and disappeared into the office. I watched through the narrow opening as he laid it neatly on top of the stack in the middle of Mallory’s desk, exactly where she’d see it.
“Done,” I whispered, relief washing over me.
“Congratulations,” Lucas sang, clapping his hands, the sound echoing in my ears. “You’ve successfully infiltrated the NYPD.”
“I walked through a door,” I corrected him, running into the elevator.
“You make crime sound disappointingly simple.”
I smiled under my breath, turning to see through the almost-closed door as the detectives poured out of the conference room.
“Good job,” Lucas praised when I finally inhaled dirty New York air. A victorious grin tugged at my lips, and I pulled the wig off.
“You weren’t so bad yourself,” I returned the compliment, hurrying toward my car. Yet my heart nearly stopped when I saw who sat on the front hood.
“Fuck,” I muttered, pulling out the earpiece just as Lucas started asking questions. He didn’t need to witness this.