Page 39 of Victorious: Part 3

“Neon…” I call out, never looking away from the silver-haired controller, my voice as sharp as broken glass. “Start collectin’ evidence. Everythin’. Documents, hard drives, USBs, hell, if a paperclip looks shady, bag it.”

“On it,” Neon replies, already at the desk, his gloved hands flying over the keyboards.

Wraith nudges one of the downed men with the toe of his boot. “What about tweedle-dumb and dumber over here?”

Before I can answer, Neon’s voice cuts through the air, tight and clipped. “Ahh… Six, we’ve got a problem. Building-wide lockdown just activated. One of these assfucks hit a silent alarm.”

My jaw tightens. “How long before—” Then everything goes black.

Emergency lighting kicks in a second later, bathing the surroundings in hellish red. Through the conference room windows, the red and orange hue of obvious gun flashes in the distance flickers from the street below, before comms static crackles not a second later. “Were under fire!” Scout’s voice explodes through the comms. “Multiple soldiers entering the lobby. We’ve got company.”

Gritting my teeth, I crack my neck in frustration. “How many?” I demand down the line.

“At least fifteen, heavily armed. Military gear. These aren’t building security guards, this is a fucking hit squad.”

The financial controller smiles, showing gold teeth. “Did youreallythink we would leave our most sensitive operations unprotected? You walked into a trap,gilipollas.”

“Maybe,” I admit, checking my ammunition. “But you walked into one with us. Fox, Wraith, grab the duffels and head into that side room.” I gesture with my head to the door behind gold-tooth guy. “The schematics say that’s where you’ll find all the Cartel’s crap. Blow the safes and take the cash—”

“You can’t do that!” Gold tooth growls, his posture stiffening.

“Sucks to watch an empire crumble right before your eyes, doesn’t it?” Wraith grins, grabs the duffels, and takes off, Fox following behind him.

I snort, trying to fight back my laugh just as the building shudders, an explosion rocking through the parking garage below us, making everyone wobble with the force. Dust and debris flutter down from the ceiling as our escape routes are being eliminated—one by one.

Gold tooth grins back at me, a soft chuckle escaping me. “Sucks to watch your escape plan crumble right before your eyes,doesn’t it?”he shoots Wraith’s words back at me.

Rolling my shoulders in annoyance, I huff, raising my gun, firing off a single round, and shooting him in the shoulder. He screams as he drops to his knee with the force of the hit, then I fire off another round into the guard beside him, shooting him in the head before I reach for my radio. Gold tooth snarls at me, and I glare back at him, letting him know I’m not fucking around. “Nickel, Chains, report!”

“Vehicles are compromised,” Nickel responds grimly. “They’ve got RPGs down here. We need an alternate extraction.”

“Slick, Scout, what’s your status on the roof?”

Silence.

Then Slick’s voice, strained with pain, comes through the line, “Scout’s out cold. I’m trying to keep pressure on his wound, but they had snipers waiting, Pres, and I’m… I’m hit, too, Six, but I’m okay.”

My heart sinks. Scout only just asked Tee to marry him. I can’t go home and tell her that we lost him in this fight.

“We’ll get you guys help soon. Find cover, Slick,” I call into the comms.

“Neon, how much longer?” I ask, my muscles tight as gold tooth groans on the floor.

“Almost done. But, Six, you need to see this.” I glance at his laptop screen, and my blood turns to ice. Bank records showing transfers to federal officials. Shipping manifests for human cargo. Video files with names I recognize. Senators, judges, police chiefs…

This goes deeper than we thought.

Much deeper.

“We need to get this to the press. No point sending it to the FBI like we planned. Not when the heat is already on it,” Neon says.

“If we can get out of here alive,” Wraith adds grimly, waltzing back in with duffel bags full and Fox beside him.

The sound of gunfire draws closer. They’re fighting their way up floor by floor, methodically cutting off our escape. “Neon, can you get us elevator access?”

“They’ve overridden my controls. We’re trapped up here, Pres.”

“What about the windows?” I ask, trying to think of something