Chapter 29 – Magnum
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Magnum
Thirty Minutes Ago
Earpieces annoy me to no end, but there’s no getting around them these days. Not if someone is breaking into a building that has a system, and all high-value targets have them now.
Moretti told me his guys are capable of getting around a security system, but I’m not the kind of thief that cuts wires and prays I can be in and out before the cops show. Especially not when Grigoryan has a security team in the building night and day.
Luckily, I have an old friend who’s god-like when it comes to getting me into places that I shouldn’t have access to. The downside is, he heavy-breathes in my ear the entire time I need him to walk me through a building.
Tapping him in on such short notice means I’ve probably burned the last favor he owed me, but I’d do awful things to get back to Vanessa, and I’d rather not be concerned about the system going off while I’m inside the building.
Grigoryan’s office is a location that can only be hit once. The risk is too great that he’ll sense something is off and double or triple his security.
That means I have to make tonight count.
Ringo—yeah, it’s a weird name, but again, he’s really good at his job—suggested I bring the external flash drive he gifted me when he wasn’t quite so salty about owing me.
I’ve kept it with me at all times for going on a year, and apparently that was a good call since I had it when I needed it. It’s set up to copy anything of note when plugged into a system. The frustrating part was coordinating with Ringo to determine which computer was the one to plug it into.
He can access anything stored on a network with Wi-Fi, but criminals aren’t stupid. They know the only way to guarantee something is inaccessible is to keep it on a closed system. That was the one I had to find.
Once I did, all I had to do was wait.
I’ve been in the building for close to an hour and a half, which is dumb as fuck, but I also took pictures of everything I could find in the filing cabinet. It seemed like a solid idea since I didn’t have anything better to do.
The program the flash drive runs took forever, and now I’m pushing it a little too close to when Grigoryan’s team is scheduled for their next security sweep.
“All right, we’re going to take it slow,” Ringo says in my ear.
“Nah, I need to get the fuck out now,” I whisper, my back hitting the wall next to the door that leads out of Grigoryan’s office.
“See, that’s the problem. We didn’t watch this place for long enough. You know I always recommend three full days, at a minimum—”
“Get to the fucking point, Ringo,” I hiss, keeping my voice low.
“It’s shift change, and apparently, they both do the midnight rounds, which we would have known if we surveilled it properly,” he says, making my vision go hazy.
Well, I’m good and fucked.
“And, uh, you’ve got two on the stairs, heading up to the fifth floor,” he says, his breath crackling in my earpiece.
“Great. I’ll just hop in the elevator. I’m sure that won’t be a death trap.” I scoff.
“We’ve got this. Just make sure you stay light on your feet.”
Ringo leads me through a fucked-up game of cat and mouse, but I manage to make it off the fifth floor and head down while the team is still clearing the rooms.
I’m out of breath by the time I make it to the second floor and trying to center myself for the final push.
“Jesus Christ,” Ringo mutters. “Are you hyperventilating?”
If he were here, I’d strangle him with my bare hands.
“Where is the other team?”
“Shit, man. Where are you?” he asks, making my blood run cold.
It’s kind of impressive, considering my pulse is pounding so violently that I can hear it in my ears.
“Second floor. I didn’t want to risk them hearing me,” I whisper.
“I told you to straight shot down to one,” Ringo says.
“No, you didn’t,” I hiss.
“Hands up. Get down on the fucking ground now,” a voice growls behind me.
The hoodie would obstruct my view if I tried to peek back, so I take my chances, heaving myself over the railing.
I land in a crouch four or five stairs down, but momentum isn’t on my side, and I go flying.
It’s not a graceful experience.
I’ll be fine, though.
Before I hit the landing, fire rips through my shoulder. It takes another half second to register the sound from the gunshot. I’m pretty sure it propels me forward even more violently.
Agony radiates down my arm and up my neck.
Motherfucker.
Where is my adrenaline when I need it?
Some people get seriously injured and don’t even realize it until they’re out of the crisis.
My head smacks against the concrete wall when I can’t get my good arm up in time.
The misery makes it tempting, but I can’t stay put.
I’m a sitting duck on the landing.
I’m not giving anyone an easy target, and the sound of boots landing on the stairs above me gets me moving.
I roll toward the downward set of stairs.
“Don’t you fucking die on me, Magnum,” Ringo yells into my earpiece. “I haven’t lost a partner in the field in six years, and I’m not about to start now.”
I toss myself down the last set of stairs somewhat more nimbly, taking the turn to run toward the emergency exit.
I’m bleeding everywhere, and all I can think about is how pissed Vanessa is going to be that I got myself shot.
The shit I stole had better have some kind of proof in it.
The cold night air smacks me in the face as I step outside, holding my hand to my shoulder. It hurts like a son of a bitch, and I’m bleeding like a stuck pig.
A black SUV pulls to a stop.
I reach for my gun, but my dominant arm is the shoulder I got hit in.
The window rolls down, and I exhale in pure relief as Mario’s face comes into view.
“Hurry,” he calls out. “We heard gunshots and figured you were in trouble.”
I take off toward the vehicle, barely making it into the SUV as the two security guards spill out the door of the building.
Mario takes off, and the tires squeal as the guy in the passenger seat turns around.
“Shit, they got you good. Hold on. We have a first aid kit here somewhere.” He reaches into the back floorboard, patting around.
My head falls against the headrest.
The car I spent all day camped out in is still a block away.
Moretti is going to be pissed.
I’m sure it’ll tie right back to him.
Grigoryan would be stupid not to lock down the entire area to search for clues.
Man.
What a clusterfuck.
The doctor is already waiting by the time we make it to Moretti’s mansion.
They lead me into a room off the garage that I’ve never seen before.
It’s white with a drain on the floor and a hospital bed on one wall.
There are cabinets with who knows what, and I start to worry that maybe Moretti plans to murder me here.
I long ago pulled out my earpiece after thanking Ringo for a whole lot of nothing, but I kinda wish I had someone to talk to. At least I could warn him where I was last seen and ask him to tell Vanessa that I’m sorry we never got our night together.
I’m still livid that he was so focused about the team on the top floor that he failed to warn me that the other team was on the second.
I’ll probably be less pissed after my wound heals.
Maybe.
If Moretti doesn’t murder me.
Not to mention, my blood is all over the place. I’ve managed to avoid being in any police databases up until now, but I royally fucked up tonight. My only solace is that I highly doubt Grigoryan will call in the break-in.
Once I’m on the hospital bed, Dr. Gonzalez comes over, pulling on his gloves.
“Do you know your blood type? Have any allergies to medications or latex? Any medical conditions I should know about?” he asks in rapid fire.
“No to all three, but I’m getting real woozy,” I admit.
“Okay,” he says calmly. “I’m going to give you something to help with the pain. That won’t take long to kick in, and once it does, I’ll examine your wound.”
He’s young, likely in his mid to late thirties if I had to guess. He’s not wearing a doctor’s coat, but the guys called him doctor.
Hopefully he actually is one.
The bullet went all the way through, which I know from experience is a good sign.
Pulling off my hoodie, overcoat, and shirt is painful as fuck, but the doc calls over Mario to hold rags against the front and back of my shoulder.
Hopefully they’re sterile or, at the very least, clean. The last thing I want is an infection.
The doctor gets to work, giving me the good drugs.
He was right.
They don’t take long to kick in.
Thank God for small miracles and all that.
“I told you not to take any risks.” Moretti’s voice shocks me back to reality.
I don’t think I was sleeping. More like daydreaming from whatever the doc gave me before stitching me up. “It wasn’t exactly in my game plan, but shit happens.”
“I swear to God, Hawk,” Vanessa says. “Move, or I will hurt you.”
Moretti rolls his eyes, his head swiveling to look at the door. “Let her pass. He’s fine. A little pale, but he’ll live.”
Before I forget or risk losing it, I dig into my jeans pocket, pulling out the flash drive.
“This is what came off one of the computers in Grigoryan’s office. It was the only device without internet access.” I hold out my hand, and Moretti takes it. “I got some pictures of his physical files on my phone. I’ll see if I can have my tech friend pull them off it and send them to you.”
“Or you could simply hand me your phone.” Moretti steps out of the way as Vanessa barrels across the room.
I quirk an eyebrow. “It’s in my other pocket, and the doctor said not to push myself too much.”
Vanessa makes it to my side, and her expression makes my chest tight.
“Hell of a way to ruin our night together. Huh?” I flash her a playful smile.
“Grab his phone,” Moretti chimes in.
“I was so worried about you,” Vanessa chokes out, digging in my pocket. “I felt like I was going to puke the entire car ride home. You’re not allowed to do stupid shit. My nerves can’t handle it.”
I chuckle, which ends up being a bad call. The pain meds have managed to keep the discomfort to a minimum, but any small movement sends a radiating pain down my arm and into my jaw.
“Sorry, princess,” I tell her truthfully. “The doc said I got lucky. He doesn’t think it clipped anything vital—”
“You’re almost deathly pale,” she snaps, holding my phone over her shoulder for Moretti. “Take this.”
“That’s to be expected, but outside of blood loss, Dr. Gonzalez said there were no major complications,” Hawk chimes in, nodding at me from where he stands, leaning against the wall just inside the door. “Glad to see you’re okay.”
“Thank you,” I say sincerely.
“What happened to your head?” Vanessa holds out her hand but doesn’t make contact with my skin.
“Uh, I ducked and rolled down a stairwell. My hard-ass head caught the fall.” I reach my good hand around, resting it on her hip and ass. “I’m fine. I’ll be good as new before you know it.”
The doctor warned he’ll need to keep an eye on my range of motion, and if it gives me trouble, I might need physical therapy, but I’m staying optimistic.
“You could have a concussion,” the little omega whispers. “Is it even safe for me to touch you?”
I snort.
Goddammit.
I really like that she’s so concerned about me. No one has ever given a fuck if I was injured. I’ve spent a lot of time recuperating on my own in the past.
“You snuggling with me will probably speed up my healing time,” I lie, wiggling my eyebrows.
Who knows, maybe it will.
It can’t make things any worse.