Page 25 of The Man I Hate

Being located by the police “pinging” a stolen cell phone led to the downfall of many low-level criminals. Removing the battery was the only way to assure a phone couldn’t be traced. Performing the task with any phone other than the iPhone was simple.

Apple’s phones were sealed with adhesive, making their disassembly nothing short of impossible without proper tools. I had a specially designed kit that would dislodge the screen—allowing removal of the battery—in a matter of minutes.

I looked at Pratt. “Grab the iPhone kit.”

I watched Sophia delete the saved data from her cloud. When she was done, I held out my hand. She extended hers, offering me the phone, and then hesitated. “Will I get it back?”

“Afraid not,” I said.

I tucked her phone into my inner jacket pocket and reached for my wallet. I removed two thousand dollars in cash and tossed it on the desk behind her.

“There’s two thousand bucks.” The 100-dollar bills fluttered onto the desk’s surface like dry leaves. “You can each buy a new one.”

Tool kit in hand, Pratt hustled into the room. The first thing he noticed was the money. He nodded toward the desk. “What’s with the cash?”

“I’m paying her for her phone.”

“Fuck her,” he said. “She screamed.”

“You probably startled her.”

“She could have got us busted.”

“He scared me,” Sophia offered.

Pratt’s eyes darted in her direction. “Who the fuck asked you?” He looked at me. “Why’s the tape off her mouth?”

“I had to ask her questions,” I responded.

He gave me a look. “You done?”

“I suppose.”

He removed the roll of duct tape from his utility belt and tore off a six-inch strip. After stretching it over Sophia’s mouth he glared at me. “Last thing we need is for her to start screaming again. Or spitting the virus on us.” He glanced at his watch. “We’ve been here five minutes too long as it is. We need to get.”

“Enough about that fucking virus.” I tossed him the phone. “Here. Get to work.”

I grabbed the other phone from the desk and gave it to Samuel. “Same thing for you. Delete your cloud storage.”

He complied with my demands without question. I gave Pratt the phone. After splitting the phone cases and removing both batteries, he pocketed the phones.

“What now?” he asked.

In my opinion, we had only one option. Sophia was going to have to lure Mica away from the pool.

“She’s going to get Mica to come up here,” I responded. “Alone.”

“I don’t like it,” Pratt responded. “She could pull some stupid shit.” He gestured to her with his eyes. “She’s not above it, she already proved it.”

“Got a better idea?” I asked.

“What about the Olympic soccer chick? Do it like that?”

It wasn’t a bad idea at all. Disappointed that I hadn’t thought of it, I gave Pratt a reassuring look.

“I like it,” I said. “One of us will need to stay in here.” I gestured to the doorway. “Grab the masks. Let’s get it done.”

Two years prior, we were faced with the necessity to extract a client from a Brentwood house party. After a few hours of surveillance and much consideration, we opted to raid the residence wearing Halloween masks. Since then, we’d kept the masks in our arsenal of tools.