Steele Street 08 - Cutting Loose by Tara Janzen

Author:Tara Janzen
Language: hun
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2015-10-15T12:22:55.988000+00:00

“Yes, sir.”

“Hacker, how long is it going to take you to set up a secure link and download the files off Dr. Shore’s flash

drive back to me?” he asked.

“Download?”

“Yes.” Isn’t that what she did al day long? Download stuff?

“An hour, maybe…uh, two, or longer, boss,” she said. “I’l have a better idea once I get there. Maybe Dr. Shore

should stay here with you, and I’l just run up to Commerce City with the DREAGAR flash drive myself.”

An hour, or two, or longer? That seemed a little vague for someone who had just jerked the Bazo into shape in

record time. But she real y was the expert in the room—along with Dr. Shore, of course, who gave her a

curious look, very curious considering that he was stil holding her hand.

“The DREAGAR 454 Subliminal Neuron Intel Interfacer doesn’t go anywhere without me,” the young doctor

said.

Yes. This was definitely going to be a long day.

“I agree,” he said. “Dr. Shore keeps his flash drive, and maybe he can speed up the downloading process. Then

as soon as you’re back, Dr. Shore and I wil go over the information.” And figure out what in the hell to do with it.

“Yes, sir,” Cherie said.

And where in the hel was Hawkins when he most needed his second in command?

Disneyland.

Unfuckingbelievable.

There wasn’t going to be enough coffee to get him through this day.

“Uh, Dylan.” Cherie spoke up again. “I got dropped off by limo this morning. We’re going to need a car.”

Oh, God.

“And I suppose you’l want—”

“Roxanne.”

Roxanne, Superman’s ride, a 1971 Dodge Chal enger R/T in Sublime Green. Cherie loved the beast. She swore

it brought out the highlights in her strawberry blond hair. Hawkins thought Roxanne was trying, so help her

God, to bring out Cherie’s inner NASCAR, so he’d taught her how to drive, but Dylan had ridden with her

once, and once had been enough. He wondered how high Gabriel Shore’s Thril -O-Meter went, because he

could guarantee Cherie was going to redline it.

“Roxanne,” he agreed. “She’s down on the third floor. Gil ian”—he turned back to Red Dog—“get them what

they need and see them out.”

He watched the three of them get on the elevator, and then turned back to his desk. He needed to cal the

general and find out how Grant wanted them to proceed on this. Gabriel Shore’s three-point plan, bril iant as it

was, was a year-long project, minimum. The bounty on Gil ian was an immediate threat. Two mil ion dol ars

took his shadow warrior and put her directly in the spotlight, the last place any of them wanted to be.

“Dylan,” Skeeter cal ed out to him from the main office. “This just came in. Listen. I’l run it back for you.” She

turned up the volume on her console, and a dispatcher’s voice came over the speakers.

“Al cars prepare to copy information on a BOLO out of Albuquerque. A 1968 Shelby Cobra Fastback Mustang,

red with white racing stripes: Be advised this car has twice been seen leaving a crime scene this morning, a

fatal shooting on Somerset Street and a knife kil ing at the Sunset Motel on Santa Ana Drive.

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