Page 23 of Redeeming Meg

“Now you tell us,” Declan growled.

He stood, crinkling paper in his fists. “I had to be sure you’re who you say you are. You haven’t even shown me any ID.”

The latex glove felt too tight against Declan’s skin, even though it was as thin as his epidermis. He adjusted the fit before placing his digit in the slot. “Go back to your shredding. We’ve got this.”

In unison, he and Meg held their breath until they heard the voice say, “Thumbprint scan accepted.” A click sounded, and Meg grabbed the handle.

A fresh burst of gunfire echoed outside the room. The man dropped the last of his papers and ran.

The safe was as tall as Declan and twice as deep. Too narrow for him to comfortably walk inside, but big enough for Meg.

She ducked into the interior, a motion sensor turning on a single LED light. Shelves lined the walls, filled with boxes and metal cases that appeared meticulously organized.

Empty spots revealed certain items had been removed. By the chief?

Declan knew she was asking herself the same question. “Why didn’t he take that?” she asked softly, pointing to a leather pouch on the second shelf marked classified.

Their red bag.

Stripping off the glove, he jammed it into his pocket. He needed more light. His phone once more did the job, and he ran the beam over everything, catching her in it. “Check the contents.”

She snatched it up and unzipped it. Her face fell. Opening the pouch wide, she held it up for him to see. His gut sank when he spotlighted the interior.

Theemptyinterior.

A string of curses flew from his mouth.

They began to rifle through everything else on the shelves. There were other pouches to unzip and search, boxes of paperfiles, and a metal box with a flimsy lock that Declan busted using the butt of his gun. It contained stacks of various currencies.

A collection of metal cases for transporting handguns and various tech equipment came next. One of the guns was gone, the outline of it in foam inside the case, suggesting the chief had also taken the silencer it came with. All the equipment was still there—listening devices, two-way radios, military-grade night vision goggles. On the top shelf rested a rifle in its gun case.

But not one goddamn USB.

From the front of the building came an explosion and hysterical screams. Plaster rained down from the ceiling, and pictures fell from the walls, crashing to the floor and adding to the already ravaged office. The rifle fell, hitting Meg in the head and knocking her off balance.

He grabbed her as she stumbled into him. “That came from the main lobby.”

She rubbed her head and looked sick. “Hagar has made it past the gates, brick walls, and blown the front entrance.”

“We’re about to have company. Time for us to bail.”

Their eyes met for a brief moment. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought there was gratitude in hers. It was probably just the lighting.

Or his desperate imagination.

She drew away. “Someone knew what was on that USB. They took it and that gun with the silencer, but left the rest. Even the cash.”

“They were in a panic,” he said, considering the motivation behind such a move, “and they needed to move quickly. Couldn’t carry too much and felt threatened enough to arm themselves.”

“And it was someone who had access to this safe.”

“The chief or deputy chief.”

Her chin cocked in the direction where the man had exited. “Or that guy, whoever he is.” She tried to raise Del. Got nothing but static.

He looked toward the open door, wondering how far the guy had managed to get.

Intel could be used to bribe, coerce, and threaten. To blackmail and to intimidate. “What if our thief took it for another reason?” he asked.

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