Page 8 of Warrant
“How many do we have?”
“Hundreds,” he said. His tone was so even-keeled I knew he wasn’t exaggerating. Plus, I knew how Cypher was about his toys. If they existed, our president wanted to own them.
“Well, not that many.” I cocked my head as I thought about it. “Twenty-five ought to do it.”
He stood up and walked over to a shelving unit, picked up a box, then brought it back to his desk. He flicked open the lid and there were about forty small, black cameras inside the little foam packaging.
“Damn those are small,” I said, picking one up and examining it.
“They usually need to be inconspicuous.” He watched me handle the camera before he frowned. “Do you even know how to use these?”
I chuckled. “Yeah, I can manage.”
“You know Cypher’s going to make you bring these back,” he warned.
“Why’s that?”
“Because he doesn’t want us using all the fancy shit he buys for the company for our own stuff.”
“That’s because we break everything,” I pointed out.
Glitch eyed me. “I’m well aware of that. I remember the last time I let you borrow my fish sonar. Now I have to sit around on the lake wondering if there are any fish below me.”
“Get over it.” The new sonar had been marked shipped as of this morning. It hadn’t been my damn fault when the last one had been knocked overboard. That was Demolition’s fault. He was the one who’d bumped into the damn thing and sent it overboard to a watery grave. But I’d asked to borrow it, so in Glitch’s mind, it was my responsibility. Me and that word didn’t exactly go hand in hand.
“I’m going to have to write down in the check out log that you took these cameras,” he says, ignoring me.
“That’s fine.”
“And he’s going to see them checked out and make you return them.”
“Cypher is damn busy running this firm and the club,” I said. “He doesn’tdoinventory. He off-loaded that to Scythe.”
“Okay, then Scythe is going to see them and make you bring them back.”
“You know what Scythe hates more than almost anything in the world?”
“Inventory,” we said in unison, though there was a question on the word as Glitch said it.
“He put you in charge of inventory…didn’t he?” he asked with a heavy sigh.
Grinning at Glitch, I grabbed the box then walked out the door. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good-ish care of them!” I could’ve found them without him, but it would’ve required I go through the checklist. I didn’t know what half the techie shit was that we had on our shelves. I just looked at the list, and marked off that however many boxes the shit was in were still sitting there. It’d been quicker to have Glitch help.
Shoving the box into the front pocket of my hoodie, I did a quick walkthrough of our clubhouse/base of operations for the firm to make sure no one needed me. I stuck my head into Scythe’s office, waiting until he looked up. Our VP was a grumpy fucker on the best of days, so I wasn’t surprised when he glared at me.
“The fuck you want?”
“Just checking to see if anything’s come up.”
“Naw. It’s been quiet. Too quiet,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I’ve got a job I’m going to be busy with for a few hours.”
He frowned. “What job?”
“Just helping out a friend.”
He nodded, then focused back on whatever paperwork Cypher had him working on. “Tell Owen I said hey.”
