Data Capture

by Jesse J. Thoma

  “I’ll find her.” Moose was already on his way out the door.

  Isabelle moved to Quinn’s side. “Is Jessica a friend of yours?”

  Quinn nodded. She didn’t think she could find words right now. She couldn’t lose Jessica. Not on top of everything else.

  “If she’s out there to be found, Moose will get her. And if Lola got her out of the warehouse, there’s a good chance she’s safe.”

  Since there wasn’t much else she could do, Quinn went back to observing the briefing. She felt numb.

  “Is all of this because of Garvey? Because of the money?” Holt asked.

  Lola shook her head and then looked like she regretted it. “Malcolm admitted he was part of the online fantasy scheme. They’re using the system to launder dirty money, a lot of it, and Garvey skimmed off the top, that’s what got him killed, I think. But Malcolm was pissed that I was hanging around the LAPD. He said he had eyes and ears in the department and knew that we were trying to bring heat on his operation, even though we didn’t actually know who was behind it. He doesn’t care about the money. That was Garvey’s problem according to him. He said if we don’t walk away from the LAPD and the investigation, he’ll keep coming after us.”

  “Is he the mastermind?” Max asked. “Did he seem like he had the chops to orchestrate something so large?”

  “I’m not sure,” Lola said. “He seemed intelligent and he was brutal, but he could’ve killed me and the other two, Jessica and Brayden, but he didn’t. He was eager to take credit for everything, but he slipped up and said something about a boss, meaning there’s another player in the game.”

  “Max, start searching for him,” Holt said. “We can work out from there. Anything else relevant?”

  “Not at the moment. I don’t like this guy, but I think he could be useful down the line. I don’t think he’s in charge, although he wanted me to think he was,” Lola said.

  “Do you think he’ll back off if we head home and end our part in the investigation?” Holt asked. “What was your sense?”

  “I don’t know,” Lola said. “That was the message he was sending, but I really don’t know. He went to a lot of trouble to send it, and if we walk away and he still keeps coming, all it does is piss you off. I don’t see the logic in that.”

  “Fine. Briefing over. Dubs, Max, check back in regularly, sooner if you have anything I’d want to know.”

  Quinn thought Holt looked contemplative as she considered all the information she had been presented. Quinn was glad she wasn’t in charge of sorting through all this kind of data and drawing conclusions. The stakes were much higher here than in her research lab.

  Once Holt was off the phone, Isabelle suggested they get some coffee and snacks from the cafeteria. Holt had argued she wasn’t hungry, but Isabelle told her it wasn’t a choice. They were giving Quinn and Lola space.

  Now Quinn and Lola were alone and Quinn didn’t know what to say. Quinn’s whole world, usually so neat, orderly, and understandable was upside down and horribly jumbled. She’d felt repulsion, terror, horror, grief, anger, and panic on a scale she hadn’t known existed. Yet here she was with the people who were apparently the epicenter of the trouble and were the only ones who made her feel remotely calm and safe. Life sure is funny sometimes.

  “I’m sorry you got caught up in all this,” Lola said. “I never meant to hurt you or scare you. If I’d known I was putting you in any danger…”

  “I know,” Quinn said. She did know. She knew Lola well enough to know she wouldn’t have deliberately put Quinn in harm’s way.

  “I can’t imagine how you’re feeling right now. Isabelle might be a good person to talk to. She hates this stuff and says she’ll never get used to it. But I will keep you safe.”

  For some reason that made Quinn angry.

  “Really? How can you possibly promise that? You can’t even keep yourself safe. Look where we are.”

  “Yes, I got my ass handed to me. I appreciate everyone reminding me. My safety wasn’t my top priority.”

  Lola was more agitated and testy than Quinn had ever seen her. “What could possibly have been more important than your own safety?” Quinn felt like she was getting to know an entirely new person.

  “Getting Jessica out alive,” Lola said quietly. “They were going to kill her, right at my feet. I didn’t care what happened to me as long as they didn’t hurt her.”

  “I cared what happened to you,” Quinn said. Quinn looked for the closest wastepaper basket as she felt nauseous thinking about Lola’s complete disregard for her own life. How can I let myself care so much when she may not come home at the end of the day? And why does she have to be so damned noble about it?

  “I know,” Lola said. “I was thinking about you the whole time.”

  Lola shifted on the bed so she could look more directly at Quinn, but Quinn wasn’t sure she wanted the eye contact. She wasn’t sure where this anger at Lola was coming from, but anger felt better than the unrelenting powerlessness and fear that had been with her since she found the dead body in her lab. Anger felt strong. “Am I safer with you or as far away from you as I can get?”

  “Honestly,” Lola said. “I have no idea. But I wouldn’t blame you for getting the hell away from me. I actually thought I should probably encourage you to.”

  Damn it. The anger was really working for me. “Well, now I know I’m more scared of the idea of being away from you than sticking close,” Quinn said. “But I felt much better being mad at you than all the other emotions that have come with all the crap we’ve been through recently. Therapists buy second homes because of stuff like this.”

  “Hey, sorry to interrupt,” Holt said, poking her head into the room. “I don’t mean to rush you, but we’ve got company coming and you don’t look in any shape to entertain. Time to move.”

  Quinn didn’t know what any of that meant, but Lola seemed to. She was already getting out of bed, ripping IVs out of her arm, and looking for her clothes.

  “Can you put pressure on this while I get my pants on?” she asked. She held out her arm.

  “Lola, what’s going on?” Quinn held gauze on Lola’s forearm. This was scaring the shit out of her. Maybe more than the dead body.

  “Unfriendly visitors headed our way. We’ve gotta leave.”

  “Do you think it’s the CMCs?” Quinn asked. How many other horrible people are out there that mean you harm?

  “Probably. They must know Holt is here. Not much use coming after me again if they can get straight at her.”

  “How do they know Holt is here?”

  Lola was dressed and heading for the door. She shrugged. Quinn figured it didn’t matter. Holt and Lola seemed more in-the-moment women of action. Lola pulled Quinn along behind her, shielding her.

  Holt and Isabelle were arguing quietly just outside the door. Quinn couldn’t hear what they were discussing, but Isabelle looked pissed and Holt looked resolved. It appeared Holt was trying to convince her of something.

  “Time’s up,” Holt said. “D North is that way. Your point of egress is D West.” Holt ducked back into Lola’s hospital room and returned a moment later with what looked like part of the portable IV pole. She handed it to Lola. “If you need it.”

  “I must really look like crap,” Lola said. “Since when do I need a chopstick to fight off bad guys?”

  Holt gave her a look and Lola stopped arguing. Quinn had the urge to laugh, the kind of out of control hysterical laughter that was inappropriate for any situation, but especially this one.

  “I’m not okay with this plan,” Isabelle said. “I hate when you switch to work Holt on me mid-crisis.”

  “I have to keep you safe. George and I need you.”

  “And George and I need you too. Your ass better return in pristine condition.”

  “There are only four of them,” Holt said. “I’ll be fine. And one of us has to stay behind to make sure you and Quinn get out safely. I alerted hospital security, but by the time
these guys actually did something to prove they were a threat, we’d already be in trouble.”

  “God, I love you and your sexy over-inflated self-confidence,” Isabelle said. “Go do your superhero thing since standing here arguing isn’t doing anyone any good. See you soon.”

  “Love you too,” Holt said. She looked at Lola. “D West. Sit rep to the Wonder Twins. Max has a safe house set up. I didn’t even ask how she managed that already. You get everyone there in one piece. Yourself included. I’ll catch up with you there. Keep the chopstick. Just in case.”

  “Maybe Isabelle’s right, H,” Lola said. “They don’t want me. Maybe I should stay behind. You take Isabelle and Quinn to the safe house.”

  Holt was gone before Lola finished her final pitch.

  “Let’s go,” Lola said.

  Quinn noticed she used the IV pole as a walking stick, supporting a fair amount of her weight, but she was moving well. They headed quickly in the direction Holt had identified as D West.

  “Why didn’t Holt let you stay if they aren’t interested in you?” Quinn asked.

  “Because they most likely would’ve killed her, because she’s of no use to them anymore,” Isabelle said quietly. “But they want something from Holt. She’s the leader and the only one who can provide it. If they killed her, the investigation would probably intensify.”

  “She’ll be fine, Isabelle,” Lola said. “There are only four of them.”

  “Isn’t that a lot?” Quinn couldn’t imagine fighting one person, male, female, adult, or child, let alone four angry men. She felt panicky, on the edge of control, but Isabelle, who had just watched Holt walk off to face down four men, was holding it together. She should probably do the same.

  Lola shrugged again. She pushed through an exit door, looked carefully around, and signaled them through. “Not for Holt. Especially not in an enclosed space like a hospital hallway. You haven’t seen her in action. Four is sort of like a good warm-up.”

  “That sounds like something out of my comic books. Like Captain America or something.”

  “She’s a huge Cap fan,” Isabelle said. “But I think she wore her Wolverine underwear today. You two can talk comics when she gets back.”

  “The claws will be a nice surprise for our guests,” Lola said. “Across the street to the coffee shop, then we check in with Max.”

  Quinn had always thought being part of the comics she read would be fun. Now she felt like she was and the reality was something else entirely. Lola was the perfect superhero—kind, strong, gorgeous—but the events in this story had lasting, gruesome consequences for the people involved.

  How was it that she could still find Lola so attractive? How could she still want to be close to her when so much violence was part of her everyday life? Quinn knew she could never live like this, she didn’t know how anyone could. Yet here she was, sprinting across the street while a fight with real life or death consequences took place in the building behind her.

  Don’t be sick. Don’t be sick. Don’t be sick.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Holt felt exposed on the street in an unfamiliar city. She didn’t know the landscape or the players in Los Angeles. She was desperate to get back to Isabelle, but she had to take care of a couple of things first. Things that would help ensure Isabelle, Lola, and Quinn were safe.

  As she walked, she scanned her surroundings. She was almost certain she wasn’t being followed. She’d dispatched the CMCs at the hospital without trouble. They hadn’t put up much of a fight after they realized who they were dealing with. In close quarters, like the hospital hallway where they’d tried to ambush her, she was close to unstoppable with nothing but her fists. Security had arrived as she was slipping out.

  Now she wanted to stay under the radar and connect with the local police. Although it seemed likely that the CMCs had been alerted to her landing by someone at the airport or had somehow flagged her arrival, she couldn’t rule out the possibility that her phone had been compromised and her location was being tracked.

  She’d removed the battery and SIM card, and the battery was going for a joy ride in the back of pickup truck, while the SIM card had seen better days thanks to the business end of her boot. Being without a phone heightened her feelings of vulnerability. At the first opportunity, she bought a prepaid burner phone, texted Max her identification code, and waited for confirmation.

  As soon as she had it, she called. “Talk to me, Max.”

  “Isabelle and the others are fine. Lola checked in about thirty minutes ago. George is secure, fed, and about to go down for the night. Tuna might request hazard pay after the last diaper change though. Fair warning.”

  “Remind him which one is the baby,” Holt said. She missed her son, even his nuclear diapers.

  “Oh, we have been. Constantly. Are you okay? How you doing making friends out there? Why the new phone? I asked you to be nice with my things.”

  “First, I tried to make new friends four times. It’s just none of them were very nice to me, so I guess those relationships aren’t going anywhere. And second, I was very nice to your phone. It doesn’t have a scratch on it. It just might need a new battery and SIM card. Has Moose checked in?”

  “Holt.” Max sounded exasperated.

  “What? I couldn’t take the chance I was being tracked.”

  “You were. By me. Now I have no idea where you are. No word from Moose yet. We’ll hear from him soon, I’m sure.”

  Holt looked around. She gave Max the landmarks she could see. “Now can you please find me the fastest way to the police chief? I have a few things to discuss with them. And get an update from Moose. Quinn is probably going out of her mind worrying about her friend. And we should probably look for the kid they took as well, Brayden whatever his name was. Lola said she got him out as well.”

  “Uh, H, you aren’t in Rhode Island. The police chief isn’t just going to let you walk into her office and have a chat.”

  “I’m aware, Max. Get me her schedule and then let me talk to Dubs.”

  Half an hour later, Holt sat in the backseat of the police chief’s SUV waiting for her to leave work for the day. According to Max, she had a dinner date in ninety minutes so Holt would keep it succinct. Dubs had been almost giddy at the prospect of helping Holt break into the chief’s car. Holt probably could’ve managed on her own, but if you employ one of the premiere car thieves around, why not use them?

  Holt didn’t have to wait long for her guest. The police chief climbed into the driver’s seat, tossed her work bag onto Holt’s lap in the backseat without looking behind her, and was about to start the car when Holt spoke.

  “Hello, Chief. I need a moment of your time.”

  Years of speed bag work had honed Holt’s reflexes, but she was impressed with how quickly she found herself staring down the barrel of the chief’s service weapon. She put her hands up casually. Although she hated guns and having one in her face was bringing back unpleasant memories, she knew sudden movements and tense body language would be misconstrued.

  “My name is Holt Lasher. I’m a bounty hunter out of Providence, where I work closely with the local police force. I’ve been working long distance with some of your fine officers too. Your weapon isn’t necessary. I’m unarmed. No nefarious intent.”

  “If that’s true, why did you break into my car and ambush me?”

  “No ambush,” Holt said. “I just need to talk.”

  “Make an appointment.”

  “I’m on a bit of a tight schedule. Some of your citizens aren’t being very nice, and they threatened some people I love. That pisses me off. These people aren’t very nice in general, so I think there’s an opportunity for you and I to get along.”

  “Oh really? And just what did you have in mind? Who are these people?” She hadn’t lowered the gun a millimeter.

  Holt wanted to prove who she was before she laid her cards on the table, but she couldn’t do anything with a gun in her face. She didn’t have a lot of op
tions except to talk. “I’ll start from the beginning. A friend of the CMC-15s wanted to be my new best friend. First, he tried to extort money from me. You’ll see that we filed a police report with your department. He ended up dead. A colleague and friend of mine let your guys know about an online money laundering ring, and was providing plenty of information. The CMCs took exception. They kidnapped and beat my friend to send me a message. When I arrived today, they tracked me to the hospital and brought out a welcome party. I have no reason to think they’ll stop coming for me, despite them saying if I pack up and go home they’ll leave me be. Do you mind lowering your gun? Search me if you want. I’m unarmed.”

  “That was you at the hospital?”

  Holt nodded.

  “Then the gun stays up. I got a personal report about that incident. The officers on the scene didn’t believe accounts, but there were seven eyewitnesses and security camera footage. You engaged with and subdued four armed gangsters.”

  “They started it,” Holt said. “Like I said, they’ve been coming after me. Will you verify I am who I say I am? I need your help and I believe I can help you as well, but there’s not a lot of time to waste.”

  “Keep your hands on the headrest. Don’t exit the vehicle until I give you instructions. Do you understand?”

  “You’re the boss,” Holt said. She put her hands on the back of the chief’s seat and waited for her to get out and come around to the back passenger door. Holt didn’t really expect anything else, but the gun stayed trained on her for the entire maneuver.

  “Out now. Slowly. Hands on your head.”

  Holt complied and quickly found herself slammed against the side of the SUV and her hands cuffed behind her back. She wasn’t thrilled with the development but didn’t fight it. She was still hoping for cooperation. Despite her strong, almost overwhelming desire to get back to Isabelle, right now she needed to be here. She trusted Lola to keep Isabelle and Quinn safe.

  “This isn’t necessary, Chief Groden. I’m not a danger.”