"How the fuck did you get this number?" I demanded.
"When you're an accountant for a criminal like Oliver Wilson you learn a thing or two."
"What do you want?"
"We want to hire you."
"What the fuck did you just say?"
"We want to hire you to kidnap our son."
A woman's voice this time.
"Your son?"
Now I was confused. Wait, Oliver Wilson's accountant. It was coming back to me now.
"Billy," I muttered.
"Yes! Can you get him back for us?"
I laughed without any real humor.
"Lady there is no getting that kid back."
"What do you mean?"
"I was hired by Wilson himself. That's who has your son. There is no crossing Oliver Wilson. It would be suicide for me to even try."
"How much?" the man demanded.
"What?"
"How much money will it take to make you suicidal?"
"You can't possibly offer me enough to ..."
"I can give you a clean start."
"Come again?"
"I've come to know a lot of cyber criminals through my work. One has procured for me a random new identity from the WITSEC program."
"Won't witness protection notice you took it?"
"Erased it, will take years for them to notice. Get my son back you get a new life where Oliver Wilson can never find you."
"Go on."
Billy was getting the fuck outta this place. That crazy bitch had gotten him into this mess but he was going to get himself out of it. He cracked the door open. No one seemed to be around. He crept out into the hallway. Still no one, good. He continued along looking around, ear to the ground. Why the hell was he even in this mess? What was that smell?
Peeking around the corner he saw a bunch of people in what looked hazmat suits. Faces covered by breathing masks they mixed chemicals in various large containers. Holy shit! He was being held in a goddamn meth lab! He started to hurry in his escape. That proved to be a fatal mistake. His foot crunched down on an unseen can left laying on the floor. Several heads snapped in his direction.
"Shit."
He ran for it, hearing someone shout something into a radio. Armed men came bursting out of one of the doors behind him.
"Shit!"
He ran like he had never run before. The staircase! It was just ahead! Freedom was within reach! He flung the door open to find Oliver Wilson on the other side.
I always knew Wilson thought of the Warehouse as his fortress. I never knew how literal that was until today. I got as close as I dared, approaching the building from every angle. There were cameras on every entrance. They were all motion sensitive. That didn't mean there wasn't a blind spot. It just happened to be a small air vent on the southern wall. That was not going to be fun.
"Getting in won't do much good if you don't know your way around."
I spun around to face the voice. He was greasy looking man with a dirty jacket and cheap shades.
"Who the fuck are you?"
He held out a badge.
"Detective Brandon Coultrane."
"What do you want?"
"To take down Oliver Wilson."
"Good luck with that."
"I don't need luck. I've got you."
"The fuck you do."
"Fine, then you're under arrest."
"For what?"
"The abduction of Dr. Millisant Tomago. Yeah, I know about that. No charges have been filed, yet. I'll forget about them if you can get four things for me."
"What?"
"Bodycam footage of the dangers my men will face when execute the arrest warrant. Samples of the counterfeit money, drugs and hollow point bullets he has in there to get the warrant. If you agree to that I'll give you everything I have on the layout of the Warehouse."
Billy's parents were getting ready. They agreed it was no longer safe to stay in their home. Wilson knew where that was. As soon as they got Billy back they would go into hiding. They needed to make sure everyone thought they were dead. That's why their house was burning down. They were blocks over where they hid their truck. A room in a run-down motel awaited them until they got the call from Gina. As he grabbed the door handle Billy's father felt the gun to the back of his head.
God, the air vent had been a mistake. The fit was a bit smugger than I was expecting. It did amuse me that all that idiot was seeing on his bodycam was metal. His intel was going to be useful though. I had dropped Billy off on the top floor which meant I knew how to get there pretty easily. According to Coultrane's informants the counterfeiting was being down on the front side of the building up on the third floor. The drug lab was up on the eleventh with Billy. The bullets were manufactured and tested on the first floor on the other side of the building. The elevators would draw too much attention, so I was going to have to take the stairs. Which was where I exited the vent after taking several turns.
Quietly I crept along the wall, hoping to avoid any cameras that may be in place. It seemed this was one area of the Warehouse Wilson did not care who entered. Reaching the third floor I slowly pushed the door ajar and looked in. No one seemed to be around. I made my way inside and began my painfully slow descent of the hallway. Finally, I reached the small room where the freshly printed money seemed to be drying. Only one man was on duty at the moment. Good.
I came up behind him as he worked. I had done this enough times to make sure I wouldn't be heard. Not until I grabbed him and spun him around to face me.
"What the fuck?"
Before he could say another word I shoved his face between my tits. I wrapped my other arm around him, pinning his to his sides. Squeezing tight he began gasping for breath. I held on until he was good and out. Reaching into the bag around my waist I pulled out zipties which I used to latch him to the leg of one of the tables. Then with an evidence bag I collected a handful of bills and moved on.
I continued up the stairwell. Along the way I heard my canine friends again. When I peeked out onto the eleventh floor I saw I was not alone. Two goons were standing on either side of a rather unremarkable door. It was the one I'd dropped Billy in. I ducked behind the door and gave it a good whack. The thud echoed through the floor.
"Go see what that was," one goon told the other.
Dutifully he left his post and entered the stairwell. Once he was out of his partner's line of sight I popped out and struck him in the throat. Voice stolen I kicked him in the balls. Doubling over in pain I smacked him in the head with the nearby fire extinguisher knocking him clean out.
"What's going on in there?" his partner called as I rushed him from the open doorway.
Billy listened to the scuffle outside. What the fuck was going on out there? The door burst open and the bitch marched in.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
"Taking you home, now come on, we've got to go."
