Pavel
Pavel“All security cameras have been put on loop and the locks are open,” Dima says, his fingers clicking over the keys on his laptop in the back of the van.
Nikolai puts the van in drive and coasts forward the remaining half block until we reach the iron gates that close the entrance to Blake Ensign’s home.
“The gate is...now open.” Dima reports just before the gates swing wide to let us in. “I brought masks. They’re in that bag.” Dima doesn’t look away from his screen; his fingers still move across the keyboard, clicking away. I have yet to see anything the guy can’t hack with enough time.
I open the bag and stare at the ski masks. Part of me doesn’t want to wear one. I want this fucker to see my face when we’re talking. But I can always take it off. I pull mine out and toss ou
