Page 21 of Deadly Hacker

“They aren’t allowing anyone to enter the building.”

“I don’t care.”

“They’re guarding the front. You’ll never slip past them,” said Finley.

“I’ll find another way in,” Rad replied.

He held up his phone as an old blueprint populated the screen. It was the same building, but long before it became the Sunset Business Complex. Finley squinted at it.

“Is that an old textile mill?” he asked.

“Good eye,” Rad murmured.

He studied another window open in the upper corner of his screen. It was a tiny map charting the GPS signal for Emma Jean’s cell phone. Rad no longer felt even a twinge of guilt for stalking her social media and keeping tabs on her. He needed to know she was safe.

Clearly, his concerns were legitimate. Now, he had to act on the info he’d stolen.

Two things on the screen stood out to him right away.

Emma Jean’s cell phone was blinking somewhere inside the building, but the signal was weak and intermittent.

And at the back of the building, behind what were now the private cubicles of Saguaro Bank, there was a small room with a door to the outside. On the old blueprint, it was a tiny break room for the mill workers. Now, it was just a maintenance room for the bank.

Rad dashed to the side of the building with his back to the wall, moving along in a crouching position. He drew his firearm and tucked it under his jacket. Finley followed somewhat clumsily behind him and did the same.

“You got on a bulletproof vest, man?” the officer hissed.

“No,” Rad answered simply.

“Maybe I should lead.”

“No. You don’t know where to go,” Rad said.

They rounded the corner and came to an old, worn-down door with a keypad. Rad took out his phone and ran the company logo through his hacking software. Within seconds, the screen populated a set of codes in a spreadsheet.

“Why is no one guarding this door?” asked Finley, glancing around.

“Because no one who works here uses it,” said Rad. He located the code that correlated with the complex’s address and typed it into the keypad.

A mechanical lock clicked inside the machine.

Rad opened the door and stepped into pure darkness. The room was musty and cool. Rad shuffled his feet along the floor to prevent tripping and held out his arm while his eyes adjusted. He felt the metal racks and shelves before he could see them. They were in a maintenance closet stocked with tools and other supplies.

From across the first floor they heard three more gunshots followed by screams. Rad heard what had to be the gunman’s voice shouting for them all to be quiet, but not in English.

Rad was American-born, but he considered it vital to his success with the Sokolov Bratva to know some Russian. It had been his minor in college, too, though he had chosen it for purely business purposes back then. He understood enough. There was a chance this guy was more than just an average criminal. He could be involved in the tangled web of the Bratva, too.

As they pushed to the front of the maintenance room, Rad’s outstretched hand closed around a doorknob. He cracked it open and paused, turning to Finley.

“If by some wild chance you see him before I do, don’t shoot to kill,” he whispered.

Finley frowned. “I wouldn’t—”

“This guy needs to answer to Mikhail Sokolov. Not the authorities.”

Following the blueprint on Rad’s screen, the pair ran along the corridors, the chaos getting louder as they went. “Almost there. Through that office,” Rad murmured.

Without any hesitation, he burst through the door into the back of the Saguaro Bank lobby. There were people lying on the floor. Rad didn’t spare a millisecond on checking whether they were dead or alive. He saw a figure standing tall in the center of the room with a big gun in his right hand. Rad lifted his gun. Somebody screamed.

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