Disclaimer: Neither Now You See Me, its characters, or the song belong to me.
Chapter 12: Not Long Now
Eye for an eye.
Tooth for a tooth.
Blood for blood.
We've all gotta die.
We've all gotta die.
~Bad Company by Five Finger Death Punch
Thaddeus Bradley switched the mic off and watched the computer screen for a few moments. Though they tried to hide it, he could see the hope draining and knew that he had won the battle. Switching the camera off, he spun in his chair to study the two men standing in front of his desk. Save for one or two minor issues, everything was going according to plan. He studied the two men with a frown, wishing he had chosen them instead of Tressler. He didn't like it, preferring to be in direct control of his men himself, but sacrifices had to be made for the greater of the plan.
He studied the two with a frown. They both wore well-made suits and he knew they were the best money could afford. After all, the best was all Tressler hired. The tall blonde was evidently in charge judging by the way he held his hands clasped behind his back while the shorter black haired man held a small laptop and had a briefcase by his feet. Bradley remained silent for a moment, making sure they knew who was in charge.
"Do you have them?"
The shorter man stepped forward with the open laptop. He placed it on the table with the screen facing Bradley who leaned forward to get a better view. The man had zoomed in on a map of the United States to focus on the state of Texas. A red dot blinked just outside of the center of the state, inching away from the center and toward New Orleans.
"The tracker was activated successfully," the black haired man explained as he stepped back. "The signal is delayed by thirty seconds, but you can track their movements via this computer."
"I can still monitor their calls?"
The man nodded.
"There will be a short delay because of the tracking device, but you will be able to monitor any calls or texts made or received with them unaware."
"You're sure of that?" Bradley asked, glancing up at the two men.
"Positive, sir." The shorter man replied confidently. "It's the latest technology, the best money could be. Many government agencies use it, including the CIA and the FBI."
"Shrike is a former FBI agent." Bradley frowned.
"That won't make a difference." The blonde man spoke up. "The only way to tell anything is wrong is if the phone were to be taken apart. Otherwise, it will appear as if nothing is out of the ordinary."
"Good." Bradley turned his attention back to the computer screen.
He gave a dismissive wave of his hand and the two men left the room, closing the door behind them. He watched the red dot as it blinked and moved a millimeter closer. It wouldn't be long now. If Shrike and the boy kept the pace they had set, they should arrive in New Orleans before the end of tomorrow. Already plans were running through Bradley's mind for what would happen when the remaining Horsemen arrived. The loud vibrating of his phone interrupted his thoughts and he frowned as he looked at the caller ID and answered.
"Mr. Tressler." He put false cheer into his voice. "You're doing well, I trust."
"Do you have them?" the multi-millionaire cut straight to the point.
"All but Shrike." No need to bother the man with his one failure. It wouldn't matter in the end.
"I don't like this." Tressler fretted like an old broken record. "If the authorities were to find out…"
"Then it will be my head on the chopping block, not yours." Bradley interrupted, exasperated at the man's fickleness. It wasn't the first time they had had this conversation.
"Nevertheless," Bradley resisted the urge to snap at the man. "If anything goes wrong, you are on your own. I will not bail you out. And if you try to betray me…
"Yes, yes, your lawyers will see that I never see the light of day." As if he would ask the arrogant millionaire for anything once this was over.
"Good. Then we are clear." Tressler's voice took on a confidence he had lacked earlier and sounded as if he were the one in charge.
Bradley didn't bother to correct that mistake. If it meant the money and recourses kept coming, then he would let Tressler believe what he would.
"We're clear, Mr. Tressler."
The multi-millionaire didn't reply and the phone clicked dead. Shaking his head in annoyance, Bradley placed his phone on the table and looked back to the red dot on the screen. He smiled and leaned back in his chair. Yes, it wouldn't be long now.