Nathan focused on the feed. Individuals appeared huddled around metal trash bins, fires burning within to offer warmth. Light flickered over their faces as the scan progressed. Nathan counted five in the frame before they all dropped to the ground. “What the hell?”
He reached out and reversed the feed to the start. Once again, he watched the congregation of displaced people until they all dropped dead. This time he noted their heads twisted around on each of their necks. He turned to Quinn and asked, “Is this a joke? There’s nothing on here. What happened between the before and after?”
Quinn consulted the message again. “It says the perp is on this scan.” Nathan objected, but Quinn raised a palm to silence him. “We need to slow the feed down.” Quinn reset the feed and played it at a fraction of live speed.
The hologram showed the same darkened mall. Slowed down though, they saw a blurred streak between the frame of the displaced standing and falling. Quinn scoffed. “I don’t get it. A technical glitch is our perp?”
Nathan’s left shoulder ached. He stretched the tendons out and rewound the feed a few frames, freezing it on the blurred image. “What if it’s not a glitch?”
“Are you serious?” Quinn asked.
Nathan picked up a baseball from the corner of his desk. He rolled it around his hands as he talked. “If it wasn’t a group of angry protestors, then what happened in that church had to have happened fast, right?” He moved the feed forward one frame. “Look at their heads. Same MO as the church.”
Quinn paled and turned away from the grotesque image.
“You asked why Reyes was in the church,” Nathan said, “Suppose guilt made him seek absolution for something he’d done? Might also be why he went to the protestors?”
“Guilt over what though?”
Nathan projected another hologram. The image of a locked file pulsated between them. “The only encrypted file on his drive—Horde Protocol. We get IT to break the encryption, maybe we learn why they killed him.”
Quinn’s jaw hung open. “Wait a minute. Are you suggesting AmeriGEN is behind the church massacre?” He shook his head. “You’ve been at this too long—you’re not thinking straight.”
Nathan reset the security scan to the image of the blur. He swept all other holograms from the display. “Let’s start again.” He pointed at the image and said, “This blur is impossible. We both know nothing can move that fast. Yet the evidence says otherwise. So if it’s possible…how is it possible? Who could do this to someone? A biologist? A geneticist? Both? Maybe a company with more money than the Fed could create something like this?”
Nathan leaned over his desk. He held Quinn in his gaze and said, “If they created it, maybe they couldn’t control it? Or then again…maybe they could. Their scientists have had unfettered access to our genetic code for years now. Who knows what abominations they’ve created? I think Reyes knew—I can’t do this anymore—he knew. He grew a conscience, and they killed him for it.”
Quinn whistled. “Jesus. What’s the motive though?”
“Money,” Nathan said, “AmeriGEN stands to make another fortune with ectogenesis. Maybe whatever Reyes knew—whatever Horde Protocol is—threatened that from happening? Maybe they didn’t trust him to stay quiet?”
Quinn’s complexion paled. “That’s a hell of a lot of maybes.”
“It is.” Nathan leaned back. “It looks bad, but it’s just a theory right now. We don’t have near enough to move on them. We need to prove someone inside AmeriGEN ordered St. Luke’s, ordered Reyes killed by …” Nathan stared at the blurred image. “… that.”
“How?”
Nathan rolled his stiff shoulder. “First, we sleep. Then we dig into Antonio Reyes. We need to know everything about Horde Protocol. We need to learn what Reyes learned—what may have gotten him killed.”
14
“Can I help you?”
Alexis stood on the doorstep, a six-hour drive from home, and flashed her best smile. “I hope so. Are you Leo Spagnuolo?”
The man stared at her with distrust. “Depends, why are you looking for him?”
Alexis hooked a strand of hair behind her ear and kept smiling. “Do you recognize me?”
He gave her the once over and said, “Yeah, I may have seen your blog once or twice. What is Alexis King doing in Columbus?”
Alexis ventured a guess. “If you’ve seen my blog, you know why I’m here, Mr. Spagnuolo.”
Leo waved her off. “Mr. Spagnuolo was my father.”
Alexis nodded. “Leo then? Can I have a moment of your time?”
He shook his head and took a step back inside his home. “You wasted your time coming here.”
“Leo.” Alexis inserted herself in the threshold, keeping him from closing the door. “Please hear me out. A few minutes of your time. That’s all.”
After a tense moment, he relented and stepped aside to allow her into his home. He led her to a sitting room where she caught the aroma of stale pizza and tripped over empty wine bottles on the floor. Leo tossed books and papers aside to make a spot for her on the ratty sofa.
Hesitant, Alexis sat across from Leo, who continued to look at her with suspicion.
“You have five minutes,” Leo said. “Make them count.”
“I’d like to talk to you about what happened to your father.”
Leo grasped a long neck bottle between his fingers. He seemed to realize it was empty only after he brought it to his lips. Tossing it aside he asked, “How did you even find me?”
“I have a person expert in such things.” Alexis tried to reassure him with a smile. “Don’t worry though, she assured me it was difficult.”
“Obviously not enough.”
“Why did you leave Union City, Leo? Why are you in hiding?”
Leo snorted. “We both know the answer to that question, and now you have four minutes.”
“You’re afraid.”
Leo chewed his lip. His gaze shifted to the floor and Alexis recognized his embarrassment. She said, “Right after your father disappeared, you were quite vocal he had been murdered. You weren’t afraid then—what changed?”
He looked at her a moment and shook his head. “Three minutes.”
Alexis leaned forward. “Look, Leo, I’m trying to bring down the bastards who you suspected killed your father. You must’ve had a reason to suspect them. Tell me. Help me.”
“I can’t help you,” Leo whispered.
“What?”
“I said, I can’t help you.” Leo lifted his head and raised his voice. “I wasn’t the only one who lost my father. My mother lost the love of her life. I’m sorry, but I can’t talk to you.”
He stood up and gestured toward the door. Knowing her time was drawing to a close, Alexis improvised. “You don’t have to come forward. I have a source on the inside all ready.”
Leo scrunched up his brow. “If you have a source, why are you here?”
“We both know the answer to that question,” Alexis said. “I’m hunting dangerous game. It never hurts to have a backup plan.”
Leo slowly sat back down. “That’s all you want? A backup?”
“That’s it. Any information you give me will be kept in the strictest of confidence. You don’t have to come forward, just help me bring them to justice.”
Leo sighed. “You’re a fool to think you can find justice in Union City.”
“Your father thought he could find it, didn’t he?”
“My father was a fool.” Leo leaned back, and with a deep breath began his story, “My father was the number cruncher for their Cabal. He kept track of the money. He knew where every illicit dollar came from. That knowledge weighed on him—ate away at his soul.”
Leo paused a moment to take another deep breath. “When he decided he couldn’t do it anymore, he believed his loyalty had earned him freedom from their influence. He went to Vargas and Logue and told them he would keep their secrets but couldn�
��t carry on with them. My father believed that would be it.”
Leo solemnly shook his head. “My father vanished within days of the meeting. I’ve never believed in coincidence. They didn’t trust him to stay quiet about their dealings, so they eliminated him. Like you said, I was vocal about my accusation. Until the night my mother was run off the road.”
His eyes burned with intensity and the struggle to hold back tears. “No matter how much I wanted Vargas and the rest of them to pay for what I knew they did, I couldn’t risk it. Mom survived, but I knew it was only a warning. Killing is nothing to these people. They will stop at nothing to keep their power. Remember that, Ms. King, for your own sake and that of your source. Whoever you have on the inside—they’re in grave danger.”
Her source’s words repeated in her memory. It’s my life. If he finds out I talked he will end it.
Leo stood and crossed the room. With one hand, he swung a watercolor painting away from the wall, one attached to hidden hinges. Behind it, a silver wall safe gleamed in the low light. Leo punched in a short-code that activated a retinal scan. With a soft beep, the lock disengaged.
He reached inside and grabbed a black spiral bound ledger. Seeing it, Alexis rose in her seat as her eyes widened.
“Easy,” Leo said, “It’s not what you think. Dear old dad was a dinosaur when it came to technology. He preferred the tangible weight of paper.” Leo offered the book to her on his way back to his seat. “This is a record of his dealings with the Cabal. Go on, open it.”
Alexis released her breath as she opened the book and flipped through the pages. Turning paper filled the silence between them. She looked at him, confused. “He only used every other page. Given the scarcity of paper, don’t you find that odd?”
Leo shrugged. “Never gave it much thought.”
Alexis fanned through more pages. “From what I see here, am I right in assuming there’s nothing damning?”
Leo said, “I told you, it’s not what you thought. If I really had his ledger, don’t you think I would’ve used it?”
Alexis closed the ledger. “Could he have kept two books? One for legit dealings and one for illegal activity?”
Leo scratched at the nape of his neck. “Anything’s possible. But if he did, it’s long gone. I’ve only kept that book for sentimental reasons, I suppose.”
“Why do you think it’s gone?” Alexis asked.
Leo tilted his head back a moment before he answered, “At the reading of his will, I learned Dad kept a safe deposit box in a bank in Union City. If a second set of books existed, there would’ve been no better place to keep them. But I found nothing. The police had emptied his box as part of their investigation into his disappearance.”
“Miller?”
Leo scrunched his nose and shook his head. “No. I bribed a guard at the bank to show me the security scan. Wurth emptied the box. Not long after that, Mom was run off the road, and I dropped the whole thing. They won.”
Alexis said, “If he still has the ledger, then maybe not.”
“Why would he keep it?” Leo asked. “With the ledger destroyed, they’re safe.”
Alexis gripped the book a little tighter. “In my experience Leo, those with power never know when to let go.”
15
Nathan stared down at the bronze statue of Peter Holt. Behind him, he could feel Hugo’s impatience growing. He arrived fifteen minutes ago and had yet to say anything to Hugo about why.
Facing the window, Nathan asked, “What do you know about Horde Protocol?”
Hugo answered, “Never heard of it.”
“What do you say we change that?” Nathan felt Hugo’s contempt. He turned from the window and noted Hugo’s frown. He approached the desk and passed Hugo a micro-drive before he took a seat across from him. “That’s a copy of an encrypted file. I need a look at it.”
Hugo tapped the drive against his desk. He rubbed at his forehead and sighed. “You remember I have an actual job here, right? With work, I get paid to do.”
Nathan curled his lip. “Yeah, do you remember I’m letting you keep this job?”
Hugo grumbled under his breath. “First, you want me to hack into King’s files. Fine, that’s doable. I know I can get past her firewall, and I suspect she’s only using an asymmetric block cipher to encode her data into cipher-text. Non-variable, sixteen rounds of encryption, public-private key structure. I can work with that.”
Nathan’s eyes glazed over. Hugo continued. “Then, you tell me to hack into Identchip who I know use a symmetric encryption algorithm. The strongest around—a two hundred fifty-six bit private key that encrypts data through fourteen rounds. Near impossible to break without access to the key.”
Hugo lifted the micro-drive, holding it out to Nathan. “And now this. Haven’t asked enough already? You expect me to find the time to decrypt this file because you need a look at it? When is it going to end, Miller?”
Nathan leaned forward and flashed a thin smile. “It will end when I’m finished with you. For your sake, pray that day doesn’t come too soon.”
Hugo shifted in his chair and let out a long sigh. He gripped the micro-drive a moment longer, moving it around his fingers, before inserting it into his HoloSphere. “This have something to do with King?”
Nathan shook his head. “Something else. Lots of irons in the fire.”
An image of a pulsating red file projected between them. Hugo cracked his knuckles and set to work. His fingers flew over a projected keyboard, rotating and flipping the image. At length, the image changed to a screen full of code. Characters flowed through the image as he examined it.
Hugo gasped. “Wait a minute, I recognize this code.”
“That’s good,” Nathan said. “Should make cracking it a breeze then.”
“Not good.” Hugo said, “This is proprietary code. This is an AmeriGEN file.” He snatched the micro-drive from his HoloSphere and thrust it back at Nathan. “I can’t have this. Are you out of your fucking mind giving this to me? Do you want me to get fired?”
Nathan stared at the micro-drive but didn’t accept it. “Untwist your shorts, Hugo, and get back to work.”
“No.” Hugo dropped the drive on the desk in front of Nathan. “I’m not looking at a classified company file on a fucking company HoloSphere.”
Nathan pushed the drive across the desk. “Take it home then.”
Hugo crossed his arms in refusal. Nathan tensed his shoulders and gripped the arm of the chair tight enough to whiten the tips of his fingers. He curled his lip and scorned Hugo. “I don’t see you as the loyal company man. I see you for who you really are—Eric.”
Nathan watched him pale. An evil grin bared his teeth, and he said, “That’s right, I know you. You’re nothing more than a degenerate hacker who took advantage of human suffering to enrich himself. You profited from the earthquake out west by stealing identities and selling them to criminals who needed a clean slate. Even kept one for yourself once the FBI closed in.”
Nathan stood. “Make no mistake though, Hugo. You’re free on my good graces. By rights, you should rot in a prison cell. Never forget where you would be if I hadn’t disappeared the evidence against you before the Feds fitted you for a cage.”
They stared at each other for a long moment. Finally, Nathan said, “You’re scum. Look at you, all dressed up in fancy clothes and still scum. Lucky for you though, you’re useful scum. So pick up the fucking drive and do as you’re told.”
Nathan jabbed a finger into Hugo’s chest. “You don’t really want to stop being useful. Do you?”
Hugo’s jaw clenched, but his eyes betrayed the fear Nathan knew lived there. He lowered his head and slumped, defeated, in the chair. Nathan patted him on top of the head and said, “Good boy.”
Nathan turned and walked toward the door. “Get in touch when you have my answers. And don’t make me remind you of your place again.” He took one last look at Hugo seething in his cha
ir and then left.
Nathan slid the factory door open. The anguish of unoiled metal echoed throughout the cavernous space. Fires burned in metal trash cans scattered around the floor and cast wild shadows within the gloom.
Nathan reached inside his trench coat and turned on a flashlight. Its beam extended twenty feet before being reclaimed by the darkness. He stepped inside and heard coughing from somewhere above. Metal clanged in the distance.
Swinging the light around, he lit up a faded sign that read Ion Corp: 79 DAYS WITHOUT INJURY and below that an old slogan ION GROWTH. The seventy-ninth day would’ve been the last day before the company shut its doors and decay crept in.
Nathan walked down the main aisle, periodically hearing the rustling of transients close by. His light caught the glassy-eyed stare of a heroin addict before they lowered their gaze back to a personal abyss. Nathan paused a moment before continuing. With each step, his high spirits grew more morose.
At a crossway, he spied his contact. Four bins burned—one in each corner—and he stood in the center of their orange glow. Nathan killed his flashlight as he approached.
“Thanks for your help with this one, Walter,” Nathan said.
Walter’s wizened face appeared more sunken than usual in the firelight. “Always here to help,” he said in a raspy voice.
More tortured coughing resonated from somewhere in the darkness. A haze hung in the air.
“Where’s the kid?” Nathan asked.
Walter cocked his head toward a metal staircase extending to a catwalk above. “He’s in the fifth bunk to the right of the stairs.”
More to himself than Walter, Nathan said, “He has a home—why is he staying here?”
Walter shuffled his feet and looked down at the grimy floor. After another cough from closer this time, he said, “I don’t know if he’s using but…he’s selling.”
Nathan’s eyes flashed in the dim light, then narrowed as he looked up at the catwalk. He reached into his coat and removed a billfold. Peeling off four bills, he handed them to Walter. “Get yourself a place to stay for a few days. Somewhere safer than here.”
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