Page 11 of Remote Access

"For fuck’s sake! How old are you? You don’t have a cell phone?"

"I told you my age. Twice. I ditched my old phone and have had no reason yet to get a new one yet. Do I seem like I have friends?"

"See if this guy has one."

“A friend?”

Quincy glared at him.

Lane dug into the unconscious man's pocket and came up with an Android. "It's not even password protected. Amateur." He took a couple of shots of the tattoo and the man's face. And as he did, the phone vibrated. He snorted and turned the screen to Quincy.

A picture of the villain, Syndrome, from the kid's movie,The Incredibles, showed. Still holding it between them, Lane swiped to answer, hit speaker, but said nothing into the phone.

"Is it done?"

They didn't say anything. Just watched each other as they listened.

"Ah," Hayrick Letsen breathed into the phone. "So the security guard outsmarted my hitman. Interesting."

"He had another camera in that room off his closet," Quincy breathed, eyes still locked on Lane's. Lane should have figured that.

"You've really fucked up, Holt."

Quincy rolled his eyes and shut off the phone. "No need to listen to his crap. Heard it all before. We need to get the pictures and whatever else we can off that phone then lose it. I'm sure Letsen is tracking this guy. We'll grab the boxes and hole up somewhere and figure this out."

Lane nodded. "So…you're going to help me?"

Quincy nodded. "There's something I need in those files as well. So, we need to hurry and get the hell out of here. I'm sure he has backup on the way. Not to mention the cops." He grabbed Lane's arm. Hard. "Don't run off on me. I mean it."

Lane rolled his eyes. "Let's just go." He stood and looked down to find the hitman watching him, fury twisting his bloody face. "What do we do about him?" he asked Quincy.

"Leave him. Whoever Letsen sends in next will get him help." He tossed Lane his pants. "You might want to put these back on."

He felt the heat in his neck and ignored it. He'd acted like a tool last night but the damn man hadn't needed to handcuff him like that. Which reminded him. Fuming, he stomped to where Quincy stood beside the bed. "Don't ever leave me helpless like that again. Do you have any idea what it was like to be lying there when those shots came in?"

"Deal." Quincy's lips curled into a slow grin. "If you're good."

It was on the tip of his tongue to say it was more fun to be bad, but he was still too pissed.

They were in the process of loading the boxes into Quincy’s trunk when sirens sounded in the distance.

“Shit,” Quincy cursed. “We’ll have to leave the rest for now.” He jumped into the cab and Lane hurriedly climbed into the passenger seat.

“It wouldn’t have taken so long to get them into the back if it wasn’t full. Is your entire life in this truck?”

"I'm sort of between homes," he said by way of excuse as they shoved what they could into every corner. "But we're going to have to find another ride fast and ditch this one."

"I've got a vehicle and I traveled light, so there's room in the trunk and backseat. Any ideas where to stash your truck?"

"We'll have to leave it wherever you left yours."

"It'll get towed, right?"

"I've still got a few connections and can get someone to watch it."

"What do you mean by that?"

Quincy pointed south where the sound of sirens was building. "We don't have time for this!"

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