“I thought I heard an explosion, too.”
“I’m getting out of here.” She hurried to the emergency exit and pushed into the stairwell. Since the fire alarm had been pulled, the elevators in the building became inoperable, forcing everyone to take the stairs.
Shanice hurried downward, the sound of others rushing behind her. People crowded into the stairwell from the lower and upper floors, and they all made a haphazard, unorganized descent toward the ground.
She had to refrain from smiling. She’d done it!
The next step was up to Cruz and Raheem.
Seated in the stolen gray car between two buildings, Cruz and Raheem watched from across the street as people poured from Logan Towers. Cruz had set the timer on his watch the minute the fire alarm went off. He could already hear the fire truck sirens and glanced at his watch.
“They’re ahead of time,” he remarked.
“Even better,” Raheem said from the passenger seat.
Less than a minute later, the fire truck parked in the middle of the street, and firefighters started to disembark.
“We’re up,” Cruz said.
He and Raheem were dressed like firefighters, including the helmets. As the men and women darted from the building, they pushed against the rushing tide to enter. Cruz caught sight of Shanice and their gazes locked momentarily. Relief flooded him, knowing she was getting out without a hitch. He also experienced an overwhelming sense of pride. He was proud of her, and he’d let her know that later.
He and Raheem raced up the stairs, all the way to the eleventh floor. They stepped into the hall and into silence and went straight to the accounting office. Cruz turned the handle and the door swung open.
The huge room contained eight desks, all with computers and papers stacked on top of them. There was a smaller office to the left with a frosted glass door.
“Accounting manager’s office,” Raheem said, heading over there. The door was locked.
Without prompting, he slammed his heel next to the knob. The frame splintered and the door swung open, crashing against the inside wall. He pulled his tools from under the bulky firefighter’s coat and dropped into the manager’s chair. He connected a machine to the computer and started downloading the files.
“How long?” Cruz asked, checking his watch.
“He or she has quite a bit on here, so about seven minutes.”
Cruz ambled over to the window. A swarm of people stood around in the street and on the sidewalks. Workers from the other buildings were also coming out to stare and find out what was going on. Before too long, they would discover there wasn’t a fire.
They had decided to have Shanice place the “bomb” on the eleventh floor because it would take longer for the firefighters to get up to that floor and figure out that something was wrong. Also because there were fewer suites on that floor, which meant fewer people.
“Hey, what are you doing in here?” The voice came from the doorway.
Cruz snapped around.
Shit.
He hadn’t expected anyone to be up there. He put a disarming smile on his face and approached the two security guards, quickly sizing them up.
The big brunette might be a problem, but the smaller Black man held a walkie-talkie and looked unsure that he wanted to interrupt. His expression suggested he didn’t get paid enough to deal with what was coming his way.
“Checking out the office to make sure everything is okay in here.” Cruz stood in the doorway, blocking Raheem from view.
“Doesn’t look like that’s what you’re doing to me. Why’s he on that computer?” The brunette angled his body to the side in an effort to look around him.
“He had to check something real quick,” Cruz said.
He landed three quick jabs to the man’s solar plexus and caught him off guard. He doubled over and Cruz flung a kick at the stunned Black man’s head. He crashed into a desk and passed out on the floor.
Cruz was about to pick up the walkie-talkie, but was grabbed from behind in a bear hug. More irritated than worried, he propelled himself backward and slammed them into the wall. The brunette groaned when his spine hit, and Cruz followed up by jerking his arms upward, loosening the other man’s grip. He sidestepped and brought him over his shoulder, tossing him hard to the floor.
The man groaned again, and Cruz yanked him up by the collar and thrust him headfirst into the wall, knocking him unconscious. He fell backward and dropped to the carpet, arms spread-eagle.
“Wrong day to try to be a hero.” Cruz tossed the walkie-talkie aside and took the Black guard’s handcuff and latched him to the foot of a desk. He took the other man’s handcuff and secured him to the Black guard. Then he removed their keys and phones and chucked them across the room.
“Almost done,” Raheem called.
Cruz re-entered the office. “You could have helped me.”
“I knew you had it.” His friend grinned. What seemed like almost no time later, he said, “Done,” and jumped up from the chair.
The two of them exited the office and started down the stairs. Two firemen were on their way up.
“Did you see anything?” the one in front asked.
“Nada,” Cruz answered, and continued walking. He and Raheem exited the building and went back to the alley where they had kept watch.
Raheem removed his laptop from the trunk and they tossed in the uniforms.
They took off in the car, Cruz driving.
“Let’s see what we have,” Raheem said from the backseat, and turned on the computer.
22
Shanice sat with tense shoulders on a stool in Starbucks, staring out the window, fingers clasped around an empty cup. This was the rendezvous point, and as soon as Cruz and Raheem were finished, they’d come to pick her up.
To her right was a man typing away on his laptop, and on her left was a woman whispering into a phone. Neither one of them paid attention to her, but she was very aware of her surroundings and closely watched each person who entered and exited through the door.
She had no idea what she was looking for. A tic. An odd glance in her direction. Anything to suggest they were more than the typical patron getting their afternoon iced coffee and pastry fix.
Then she saw the familiar gray vehicle pull up to the curb, and her shoulders relaxed. She jumped up from her stool, leaving the empty coffee cup behind. She climbed into the front seat and Cruz took off. Raheem was in the back on his computer.
“Looks like everything went well,” Shanice said.
“Very well. You did great.” Cruz’s eyes left the road for a second. He placed a hand on her thigh, and her skin tingled. She wished she’d worn a skirt instead of the pants.
“Thank you. Maybe I could be a spy.”
“Let’s not get carried away,” Raheem said before Cruz could even respond.
The three of them laughed.
“Tell me you found something,” Cruz said. His gaze flicked up to watch Raheem in the rear-view mirror.
Raheem didn’t respond right away, and Shanice turned in the seat to observe him. He was hunched over his computer and typing very fast.
“Found it. Precise, LLC is located in the Caymans.” There were a few more taps on the keyboard. “Ladies and gentlemen, we now have the account numbers for every account Precise paid into. All twenty-two of them.” He grinned at Shanice.