Page 26 of Night Justice

His order had a weird sound to it. He grabbed both the case and her wrist and dragged her to the door.

“Hey! What’s going on? Where are we going?”

It was only when they were through the door and into the stairwell to the garage that the vigilante deigned to answer her. “I’ve been informed that this particular model is equipped with a GPS tracker. We don’t know if someone has discovered it’s missing, or if anyone is after it, but we can’t stay here like sitting ducks.”

They were one flight away from reaching the garage when he stopped her again and stood immobile. This time, she heard a faint voice coming from his earpiece, but couldn’t make out the actual words.

He cursed, and they headed back up, but only to the second floor this time. “Strange car just entered the garage, packed with too many people in it to be normal. That’s not a good sign.”

They ran to the other side of the hallway toward the other staircase that led to the back of the building.

The vigilante touched his chest again. “Dev, we need a way out. Now. Potential incoming from the underground garage.”

Orla didn’t react but filed that new name in her mind for a later time. Dev. Who was he or she? An associate?

Whether the new players were there to help or not, Orla ran, holding on to the gloved hand, keeping her wits together, especially if danger was gnawing at their heels.

Just as they reached the fire door, the vigilante let go of her hand and handed her the briefcase before pulling out a gun. Placing himself between her and the door, he cracked it open, checking the coast was clear.

“Stay close. We don’t have eyes everywhere, and you aren’t wearing body armor.”

Her old flak jacket, currently hanging in the back of her closet, popped into her mind. Maybe she should have put in on instead of her canvas jacket.

The noise of the city almost was too loud. It was still dark and cold, but the sky held a tinge of pink as the sun slowly rose.

They dashed toward the street, keeping to the shadows. Before they reached the boulevard, he stopped, and she noticed a small black car. The vigilante changed direction and went to work on the door. Within seconds, he had it unlocked and had opened the door for her when gunfire sounded.

Everything happened so fast, Orla didn’t have time to react when the vigilante stepped between their attackers and her, completely blocking her view.

Part of her expected a wave of panic to bring her down, and it almost happened, until the sound of bullets hitting him brought her back to reality. He’d placed himself in front of her as a human shield, protecting her. A scream seized in her throat, but she had to act fast. They had to get out of there now.

With only one goal in mind, Orla crawled into the car until she could access the driver’s side, under the wheel, hoping the car was as old as the one in Kandahar she’d had to jump-start more than once back in the day.

When the engine roared to life, she scrambled into the driver’s seat and prayed the vigilante was still standing. She got her answer when his tall frame folded in beside her. Not waiting for him to close the door, she put her foot to the floor, and the car shot away from the curb. In fact, he left the door opened and fired back a few times as a couple of stray bullets hit the trunk until they turned the corner.

Orla forced herself to slow, no need to attract attention, and risked a look at her passenger.

He was breathing hard, leaning back in his seat, one gun in his hand, the other gripping his chest.

“Are you hurt?” Keeping one hand on the wheel, she reached out for him, running her palm over his chest in search of blood. “We need to find a place to stop and...”

“No stopping.” His voice was a breathless, wheezy growl. “We have a tracker on us. If we stop, we’re dead.”

It was tempting to throw the briefcase out the window, but before she could even attempt it, the vigilante spoke. “Dev...”

Orla listened to the one-sided conversation, with the vigilante answering with yes or no until he nodded. “Yeah, got the address. We’re on our way.”

“Where are we going?

The vigilante sighed. “A place we can take care of the tracker, lay low for a while, and we can discover what’s in that damn briefcase. It better be fucking gold or a list containing every one of those dumbasses names otherwise, I’m going back and tuning those men into sieves.”

Chapter Thirteen

Sam wasglad they reached the address Devin had given him before the sun had fully risen. He would’ve been surprised Devin had directed them to Gamespyr’s headquarters, his multi-billion video game empire, but several bullets had hit his body armor and he was feeling the effects. Pain pulsed through his chest, stealing his focus.

When they entered the private garage, he directed Orla where to turn. He’d only been down here once, but the access had been straightforward. Hidden behind wide pillars, a second garage door blended into the concrete walls. Orla almost hit the brakes, but the door slid up, allowing them entrance.

There was a small four-space parking area and an open door leading to a workspace and small room. Once the car stopped, his ribs settled, and Sam hoped that meant nothing was broken. He’d know for sure once he was able to get out of his suit and check them properly.

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