Data Capture

by Jesse J. Thoma

  “Did you call me for a reason, or just to imply that I’m too geriatric to watch my own back?”

  “We’ve got a couple of questions about the mayor,” Holt said.

  She indicated Lola should go ahead. Lola thought Holt was going to run this call so she was caught off guard, but she repeated the questions she’d asked Holt earlier.

  “Where’s the mayor getting his money? We think he gave the CMCs his campaign money, but he needs influence to manipulate the city the way he is. Influence requires money.”

  Sam looked like she was considering. There was a map of the city on the wall behind her. She turned in her chair and looked at it. She abruptly spun back to them.

  “Son of a bitch. How could I have missed that? The fucking port.”

  “Excuse me?” Lola asked. Even though she didn’t know what Sam was alluding to, she felt excitement building.

  “There’s been rumors of a smuggling operation out of the port that we just can’t get in front of. Every time we get a hot tip, everyone’s cleared out before we arrive. The mayor has a task force so information is flowing through his office, which is convenient for him. Care to guess where the first CMC activity popped up on our radar?” Sam asked.

  Lola recognized the look in Sam’s eyes. It was the same look Holt had when she was on a hunt and had her prey in sight.

  “Max, Dubs, get in here,” Holt hollered into the other room.

  Max and Dubs skidded to a stop just outside the door. “What’s up?

  “I need you to find a smuggling operation at the Port of LA,” Holt said. “It might be the key to bringing down the mayor.”

  “That sounds fun,” Max said. “I’ll start doing a little poking around at the Port.”

  “You make it sound like you’re going for a stroll on a container ship,” Dubs said.

  “Have you ever stolen a boat before?” Max asked.

  “You’re picturing me as a pirate, aren’t you?”

  “Don’t answer that,” Holt said. “Role-play and dress Dubs in sexy pirate gear on your own time.”

  “Now you’re picturing it too, aren’t you, boss?” Dubs winked at Holt.

  “You two never disappoint,” Sam said.

  Lola felt her phone vibrate. She pulled it out and checked the text. Quinn, Isabelle, and Jessica were on their way back. Her belly did the now familiar and quite welcome flip it did when she thought about seeing Quinn. She considered standing in the parking lot waiting for her, but that seemed like too much. She’d be here in ten minutes.

  Lola was pulled from happy thoughts of Quinn by a loud bang on the video call with Sam. Another one followed. Sam was on her feet and moving. She’d called them on her tablet, so they were still with her.

  “Someone’s gained entry to my house. I’m calling it in.”

  They all listened as Sam made the call. Lola didn’t need to hear the other end of the call to get the gist of what Sam was told.

  “I’m on my own. Seems I found one of my dirty cops,” Sam said. “Unfortunately, he just answered my fucking call for help. Pretty clear that dispatch isn’t going out. I’m going to try to get in touch with someone backchannel, but I don’t know who to trust.”

  “How long can you hold out?” Holt asked.

  “Not long enough for you to fly out here,” Sam said.

  Although she looked resolved to her fate, she looked pissed as hell.

  “I’ve got to tell you where my files are and then I’m signing off. You’re not watching me die.”

  “I’m not letting you die. Just hold on a minute and give me a chance to think,” Holt said. She was pacing around the conference table.

  “This is probably the CMCs, right?” Lola said. “Why don’t we call Malcolm? The mayor’s going down, but maybe he doesn’t have to. Or maybe his neighborhoods can survive. If he kills the police chief, nothing’s going to save him.”

  Holt looked like she was considering. Sam stopped her breakneck motion and stared directly into the camera for a moment as well.

  “Do it,” Holt said. “Get him on the line. Hold on for me, Sam.”

  “No problem,” Sam said. “Just going to look for a bigger gun.”

  Lola’s phone buzzed again.

  “Just pulling in,” the text message read.

  She hoped Quinn wouldn’t find her right away and could avoid experiencing Sam’s peril live. Hopefully, it would have a positive resolution and Lola could give her an abbreviated version later. Lola turned back to the screen when three rapid pops that sounded like extremely loud firecrackers, followed immediately by a loud scream filled the air. Lola was out of the conference room at a sprint, but before she’d made it far, the large picture window facing the lot exploded directly in front of her. She hit the floor as bullets whizzed overhead. Those working at computers in the main room were already on the ground, moving along the ground like overgrown bugs, toward designated rally points and safety zones.

  All Lola could think as she army-crawled under the onslaught was of Isabelle, Quinn, and Jessica exposed in the parking lot. Had they really arrived? Had they been hit? She felt her throat starting to close and her breathing become difficult at the thought of Quinn shot and bleeding. Focus. Get to her and then worry. She let the anger rise. That she could work with, if she could control it.

  As she moved past one of the desks, she reached up and grabbed an earpiece and shoved it in her ear. She flicked it on.

  “You there, H?”

  “Right behind you.”

  Lola glanced behind her. Holt was indeed a few feet behind, crawling along the ground as she was, covering ground rapidly.

  “What’s going on?” Dubs asked. She sounded way too serious, and that made Lola feel worse about the situation.

  “Trying to find out. Max, get Malcolm to back off Sam. Dubs, get a head count, care for any wounded. Try to get in touch with Jose. He’s exposed in the shop out front. I need someone on the roof. Get me information. Keep people safe and stay down.”

  Holt nodded at Lola and they started to move. Lola reached the front door first. She got to her feet at the main entrance, shielding herself as best she could with the doorjamb. She chanced a peek outside. Isabelle, Quinn, and Jessica were huddled against one of the SUVs, trying to remain out of sight. Isabelle looked like she was evaluating exit strategies. For the moment, the shooters weren’t directly aiming at them. Lola wasn’t going to take a chance the situation would change.

  It was fifty feet of open ground to where the three women hid. She had a better chance of getting to them alive if she approached from around the other side, through the alleyway that ran the length of the building, but she wasn’t willing to crawl all the way back and work her way around. It would take too long.

  She needed something that would make the shooters stop long enough for her to get to Quinn. She scanned the office and saw a can of spray paint Tuna had confiscated from a teenager looking to redecorate the office a few weeks ago.

  She quickly tied a rag tightly around the can and wedged a few pushpins in the rag facing the can. Her plan was to light the rag and fling it at the shooters before running like hell. Aerosol cans were remarkably easy to puncture, and the contents of the spray can were flammable. Even if the can didn’t puncture, Lola hoped a flaming object hurling their way would give the shooters pause. Holt was by her side and nodded at her improvised work.

  “I hope you two morons aren’t thinking of running out there under cover of that,” Dubs said. She was in the door to Holt’s office holding an assault rifle.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Holt said.

  “Keeping everyone safe. That includes your dumb asses. Plan Z is in effect. They have guns and there’s nothing stopping them from walking in here and picking us all off. Wait for me to get to the roof. I’ll cover you while you collect the ladies.”

  Lola knew Holt hated guns. She didn’t like them either, but right now bringing a can of flammable spray paint to a gunfight was foolish. Dubs was r
ight. Plan Z was in effect.

  It was nearly impossible for Lola to wait for Dubs to get up to the roof and into position. All she could see was Quinn out there, exposed. Holt was clearly feeling the same way with Isabelle in harm’s way as she was crawling up Lola’s back.

  Lola’s anxiety wasn’t helped by the overwhelming chatter over the comms. It seemed everyone was on and giving updates, checking in, and implementing Plan Z.

  Finally, Dubs checked in. “Okay, I’m in position. I’m going to lay down cover. If you are interested in the fireball, go ahead and fling that can out and I’ll light it up.”

  Lola figured it couldn’t hurt. She heaved the can as far as she could and took off for Quinn. Dubs’s aim was true and the can exploded in a fiery sphere. Lola shielded her eyes but didn’t slow. She could feel Holt right behind her.

  The sounds of gunfire hadn’t diminished any, but the pace of fire being sent toward them had slowed since Dubs began firing back. Lola and Holt made it to the SUV unharmed.

  Quinn and Jessica threw themselves into Lola’s arms and she held them tight.

  “So which of your plans involved Dubs on a rooftop with a gun?” Isabelle asked.

  “Z,” Holt said.

  “If you’ve put her in a position to kill someone…” Isabelle said.

  Lola felt a little sorry for Holt. She was clearly terrified about the danger Isabelle and the rest of the crew were in, and now Isabelle was pissed at her.

  “Of course not,” Holt said. “Dubs knows the Batman rules apply. Right, Dubs?” Holt held out her earpiece to Isabelle so she could hear Dubs’s reply. Isabelle seemed satisfied.

  “How are you so calm?” Quinn asked. She was looking at Jessica.

  “They just blew up a hand grenade and ran through a hail of bullets. All things considered, I’m feeling pretty safe,” Jessica said. “But I already got kidnapped and watched Lola get creamed, so I’m totally signed up for a lifetime of therapy.”

  “Where are Moose and Tuna?” Holt asked. “Weren’t they supposed to be with you?”

  “I let them out at Jose’s shop,” Isabelle said. “It’s not their fault, Holt. I said I’d park and go right in. I figured how much trouble could we get in ten steps from the door?”

  “Max, can you get everyone to shut up long enough to give me a coherent update?” Holt said.

  The gunfire had resumed and bullets pinged off the car, spraying metal and glass everywhere. Lola knew they couldn’t keep the ladies here much longer. Even with Dubs laying down return fire it wouldn’t be long until the gunman moved in on them.

  “Dubs is on the roof as you know. She said there are ten shooters she can see. All with assault rifles and body armor. I called for backup, but given what we’re up against, they’re activating SWAT. It’s going to take a couple extra minutes.”

  “We don’t have that, Max. We’ve got to get everyone back inside.”

  Lola released Quinn and Jessica, and both let her go reluctantly. She scooted to the edge of the SUV and peered around the bumper. She could see four of the ten shooters. She thought she saw another pair of boots, and if so, Dubs had taken one shooter down.

  She looked at their options for retreat. Going back the way she and Holt had come wasn’t a good option. It was stupid when they’d done it, but with five of them, the odds weren’t good that they would all make it. She had to figure out a way to keep all of them alive, and it wasn’t looking good. We need weapons too.

  She scooted to the driver’s door and reached up to the door handle. Her hand strayed a little too high as she blindly reached and a bullet careened off the hood of the SUV, sending shrapnel piercing into her knuckles. Lola yanked her hand back and looked at her newly pierced skin. She glanced at Quinn, who almost looked exasperated. It was better than panicked.

  “I know, I know, I need to be more careful.” She tried again. This time she got the door opened and quickly removed the emergency kit from under the driver’s seat. She rooted around until she found the flare gun and three flares.

  “Even your emergency kits are mini Batcaves,” Quinn said.

  “I knew a flare gun would come in handy eventually,” Holt said.

  “Whoever’s at the front of the shop, I’m sending Isabelle, Quinn, and Jessica your way,” Lola said. “We need more cover for them. Is anyone else armed on the ground level?”

  “Yes, I’m coordinating from up here,” Dubs said. “I’ve got a couple of our guys covering the back, but they can be repositioned. Say the word.”

  “Get them in position,” Lola said. “Tell them not to shoot me in the ass though. I’m going to be covering them from out here.”

  “The hell you are,” Holt said. She pointed at the flare gun. “It’s my flare gun.”

  “It’s my plan,” Lola said. “You can escort them back.” She waved toward the shop.

  “Fuck that,” Holt said. “I’m more likely to get them shot. Everyone seems to point their guns at me.”

  “When this is over, we need to talk about that,” Isabelle said.

  “Prep them to get to cover,” Lola said. She turned and loaded the first flare.

  Quinn was quiet next to her.

  “I’m sorry you’re in danger again,” Lola said. “I’m going to make sure you’re safe.”

  “That’s not enough,” Quinn said. “My life without you isn’t enough.” Quinn grabbed Lola’s T-shirt in her fists and pulled her close. “You better come back to me. I love you.”

  “I love you too,” Lola said. She kissed her. A kiss of promise.

  Holt tapped Lola on the shoulder.

  “Now, Dubs,” Lola said.

  Gunfire erupted from the shop. Lola shot out from behind the SUV and leveled the flare gun at the first shooter she saw. She fired. The man dove out of the way. Another man behind him, standing at a higher vantage point, didn’t see the flare in time. It hit him square in the knee. He screamed in pain.

  Lola kept running. While she ran she loaded another flare. She aimed and fired again.

  A bullet hit the pavement six inches from her. It kicked up chunks of asphalt and debris that lodged painfully in her shin. The impact was enough to throw her off stride and trip her. She went down.

  Pain ripped through her as she landed. At first, she thought she’d been shot, but it was just her still healing ribs protesting the hard landing. Get up. Keep moving. If you stay down you’re dead.

  She tried to stand up, and when she’d barely managed, something hit her from behind and she was flying through the air. She landed in an uncomfortable heap behind a rock a few feet from where she’d fallen. She took inventory. No major damage and she still had the flare gun.

  She caught her breath and refit the comms unit in her ear. “Dubs, what can you see?”

  “Holt’s down. Fuck, Lola. Holt’s down.”

  Lola’s insides felt cold. Dubs must have misspoke. “Where? Did everyone else get in okay?”

  “All three got in okay,” Dubs said. “Holt’s about five feet from you. She threw you behind that rock and then went down. I don’t have a full view, but she hasn’t moved.”

  “How far away is the SWAT team?” Lola asked. She loaded her last flare and prepared to move. She wasn’t leaving Holt out there exposed. She refused to think what Holt being down could mean. Holt had been the stable foundation that allowed Lola to build a life after her brother died. If Holt was pulled away, she didn’t know what it would do to her.

  “Ninety seconds out, so they say,” Dubs said.

  “I’m going to get Holt,” Lola said. She looked around the rock. “Think you can take care of the two closest to us?”

  “You got it,” Dubs said.

  Lola heard a scream. One down.

  She took off from her rock and headed for Holt. She slid to a stop on her knees next to her. She wasn’t moving and was bleeding from her temple. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Don’t be dead. Don’t you fucking be dead. Another shot hit the dirt next to her, and Lola took aim at the second guy and
fired. Another scream. Two down.

  Lola didn’t think she could safely get Holt all the way back to the shop so she grabbed her by the arms and started to drag her. It was faster and Holt would be less exposed than a fireman’s carry.

  “This is embarrassing,” Holt said. But she didn’t try to stand on her own.

  “Fuck,” Lola said, looking down at her. “I thought you were dead. I should leave you out here for scaring me like that.” She pulled Holt the final few feet until they were both behind the rock.

  “That’s the thanks I get for flinging you behind this lovely rock?”

  “This rock’s shit,” Lola said. She was looking Holt over, making sure there weren’t any injuries that needed immediate attention. The cut on her face looked superficial. “What happened to you?”

  “I got knocked on my ass after tossing you. I think some debris or something hit me. I stayed down for a second to evaluate and a funny thing happened. They stopped shooting at me.”

  “I wasted my last flare on you playing possum?” Lola was a little angry but also giddy with relief.

  “We could have avoided all of this if you’d let me handle the flares.”

  “Oh sure, and then you get all the glory and I look like a punk in front of my lady. So what’s the plan?” Lola asked.

  “I’m sitting on my ass in the middle of a parking lot, hiding behind a rock,” Holt said. “What makes you think I have a plan?”

  “Because you’re the one who keeps flare guns in your SUVs. When were those ever going to come in handy? Signaling aircraft?”

  “No, shooting at these fucknuts. Max, do you have an update on Sam?” Holt looked worried.

  “I’m here, boss. My connection was lost a few minutes ago, so I haven’t gotten confirmation she’s safe, but I got in touch with Malcolm like we talked about. It’s not his guys at Sam’s house. I think I convinced him helping Sam was in his best interest. As was flipping on the mayor. He said he was sending soldiers to her house.”

  “How the hell did you do that?” Holt asked.

  “I finally cracked one of the offshore shell corporations,” Max said. “It was registered to Malcolm. I’m willing to bet the others are too. It looks like the mayor transferred all the money to himself, laundered it, and then got away squeaky clean on the other side. Malcolm didn’t know anything about it though. The mayor set him up to take the fall if things went south. You can imagine how Malcolm felt about that.”