Bleeding Edge: Elliot Security (Elliot Security Series Book 2) by Evie Mitchell (short story to read .txt) 📗

did she mean the end game?” Pax asked, looking from me to Annabelle.

I had no answer.

Sawyer sat at the back of the room frantically typing.

“Anything?” This waiting and wishing was getting us fucking nowhere.

Please, God, give us something.

“Maybe. Give me a minute.” He waved me off with one hand. The seconds crept by as he concentrated.

I paced, eyes darting from the board, to the list of names and back.

“Shit,” Sawyer muttered.

“What?” I crowded in looking over his shoulder. “What’ve you got?”

He pointed at the screen. To me it was a bunch of meaningless numbers and letters. “I followed the cash. They need Emmie to get the payload.”

“Explain,” Pax demanded, crossing his arms.

“She’s good. Damn fucking good. The accounts she set up when she was one of their pawns? They’re still live. She designed a program to siphon money from their accounts to her own. It took them years to realise they were losing out. They can’t crack it. They need her.”

“Why?”

“How do I explain? She’s used an advanced encryption algorithm that I’m prepared to say even a supercomputer can’t crack. And she did that ten years ago. Ten fucking years. Do you understand how extraordinary this is? These bastards can’t work out which alias she used or where the money is hiding. But judging by the transfers, the account itself would have millions. Hundreds of millions sitting in it.” Sawyer navigated to another screen. “And your cult has just purchased land in Russia. A country with whom Australia doesn’t have an extradition treaty.”

“Fuck.” I ran a hand through my hair. “It was never about her. Emmie’s just the key to their money.”

“Do you have flight logs?” Paxton demanded.

Sawyer hit some keys, then shook his head. “They’re either doing this last minute, are doing the private gig, or they’re using aliases. Either way nothing is popping. No big groups heading out, not that I can pinpoint. But I’m stretched. Max is on it.”

“You’re in flight manifests? Wait, no. I don’t have time right now.” Annabelle shook her head. “I’ll put a call out to exit ports. Immigration will be on the lookout for her.”

Kel frowned. “The photo you have is current, but I doubt they’ll let her leave the country. Too many people, too much risk. They’ll force her to sign over the alias, kill her, then mock up some death certificates to get the money.”

Fuck.

I buried the fear. I didn’t have time or energy to spare on that fucking shit. I needed to be present.

“We need to find them. Now,” Pax declared pushing up from the table.

“Got a lead!” Sawyer yelled.

Thank God.

I leaned close, eyes narrowing on the screen. He had camera footage. My car. “Thirty minutes ago, the guy stopped at a red light on O’Halloran Circuit in Kambah. The CCTV footage caught the license plate.”

I pushed back from the desk. “Track it and call me when you have a location.” I pointed at Annabelle as I passed. “Get your guys on this or so fucking help me–”

“Unlike you, we have the authority to arrest.” She followed me out. We jogged up to the carpark; she hit the locks on her unmarked vehicle.

“I’m driving.” I reached over to take the keys but she held them out of reach.

“No way, Bucko, I am. This is a police vehicle. I am police. You’re here for the ride.”

I gritted my teeth but diverted for the passenger seat. Arguing wouldn’t get us to Emmie any quicker. She threw the car in gear heading towards Kambah. My mobile rang.

“Talk to me,” I demanded.

“Satellite imaging picked them up. I’m texting you the house address. We’re running it through our system. See what shakes out. Pax and the rest are on their way.”

“Any other cars? People?”

“Not that I can see. I’m about to lose visuals though. Satellite is about to drift out of range.”

“Sat… Jesus.” Annabelle shook her head as she swerved around slower drivers.

I rapidly calculated the risks. “At the very least, this is a Canberra base. At best, it’s one guy with a gun. We need to prep for worst case. Who’s coming?”

“Pax, Brean, and Jack are on their way,” Sawyer reported.

“My people?” Annabelle asked.

“They’ve called it in. Warrant is in process, but your tactical guys are enroute.”

“Keep us posted.” I hit end on the call, directing as we flew down back streets towards the address.

“It’s on this street, number twenty-seven.” We drove past, a quick glance showed my car in the driveway.

“Don’t need a warrant. We’ve got cause,” Annabelle remarked, turning left onto a side street, quickly parking.

I checked my side arm. “We good?”

She withdrew her weapon. “Stay on me. Let’s go.”

We crept through gardens, sticking close to the houses. Up ahead, I saw Paxton’s car pull to the curb a few doors down from the residence. Jack, Brean, and Pax climbed out, nodding when they saw us.

I lifted a hand, signalling our entry. Jack and Brean vanished, disappearing around the rear of a neighbouring house. They’d cover the back, leaving us to deal with the front of the premises.

We got close, Annabelle held up a hand, counting down.

Three.

Two.

One.

We surged forward, fists pounding on the door as Annabelle yelled, “Police, open up!”

The door remained closed. Silence.

“Go!” Annabelle yelled, lifting her pistol.

Pax and I lifted a foot kicking the door in tandem. It burst open, swinging back to slam against the entry wall. We surged forward, clearing the entry and scanning the hall down to the lounge. Wires and cables were sticky-taped to the ceiling, running from one end of the house to another. A large humming server stack dominated the lounge, the dining room cluttered with desks and computers. The kitchen and garage were clear.

The bedrooms.

Fuck.

We made it to the back room, the rest of the house clear. Paxton threw open the door, I surged forward as he provided cover.

Empty.

Blood.

Fuck.

Blood on the carpet, blood splatter on the walls. Fresh, red, and wet. They’d been here recently.

Emmie. Fuck. Fuck!

We should have run.

Rage and fear converged into stone cold numbness, fuelling my focus. Failure wasn’t