Andrea gets up off the chair and comes over, sitting next to me on the bed. She puts an arm around my shoulder and gives me a squeeze. “Oh Jackson, I've never hated you. You've pissed me off plenty of times and disappointed me, sure. Mainly it hurt that you spent so much of your life living in denial of who we are and what sort of family we lived in. But I have never hated you. You're my big brother, and I love you. Right now you need my help, and I'm going to be here for you.”
I hug Andrea back, fresh tears coming to my eyes, and soon I'm crying again. I wish the little waif in my arms was about six or eight inches taller, that the long black hair was short and brown, and that Andrea was Katrina. Still, it helps, and Andrea holds me back, letting me vent. When it's over, she kisses my forehead, and gives me a smile. “Better?”
I nod, and wipe at my nose. “Yeah. I think I need to invest in some tissues though. I don't see any. I don't think Katrina ever cried.”
“I bet she did,” Andrea counters. “I've done plenty of crying myself. Now, you know why I'm here. I've got some computer skills too, and with your permission, I want to combine what I've gathered with what Katrina's got. Together, I'm certain there's enough dirt there to put Sam Grammercy and Peter DeLaCoeur away for the rest of their lives. There has to be.”
“Let's do it,” I say, anger filling my voice. “I don't care about the money anymore. Those bastards took Katrina from me, they need to rot.”
“And our money?” Andrea asks.
I shrug. “Doesn't fucking matter anymore. Maybe I'll take what I can before the cops move in, I'm sure I can do some wire transfers or get cash advances on my credit cards that he's paying for, but I honestly don't give a fuck. I'll walk out tomorrow with five bucks in my pocket if I have to.”
“Well, we can do more than that,” Andrea says with a chuckle as she gets off the bed and goes over to Katrina's computer. She sits down and takes a look, and I can tell, she's impressed. “Whoa... this thing is fucking... I think we could rename this thing Skynet.”
“Can you access it?” I ask, and Andrea nods. “Really?”
“I know more than just business. This might take a little while though, unless you know the system, too.”
I shake my head, chagrined. “I saw her use it, but she didn't tell me much.”
Andrea flips a switch, and the computer hums to life, a glow forming from the flat panel display. “Well then, this might take a little while to get into. Do you have any money on you?”
I pat my hip pocket, and pull out my wallet. I honestly wasn't even sure it was there until I take it out. Opening it up, I see a few bills. “Maybe fifty bucks, why?”
“Because I skipped lunch to argue with Nathan and find this place, and I'm hungry. I saw a minimart on the corner if you turn left when you hit Market Street. Think you'd be willing to make a grub run while I get cozy with the HAL-9000 here?”
“Skynet, HAL-9000... you're a geek, Andrea.”
She turns and gives me a smile, and I realize something. I love her, too. “Thanks, oniichan. Take a hat or something, I can hear the rain still.”
It actually takes Andrea three weeks to crack the system, during which I can do little more than sit around, read the business books that she brings me, and fuck around on my own laptop. Nathan gives me a call once in a while, but my cover story of just being pissed at Peter is holding pat, and Peter hasn't invested too much effort in finding me yet.
I also start exercising again, copying the movements that Katrina and I went through, and trying some more that I make up from the stuff laying around the loft. I find that the pain of the exercise eases the pain in my heart, and that in doing so, I find myself closer to Katrina. I can understand more about what she put herself through for so many years, and I can begin to understand what drove her to become the woman she was. It's both sad and beautiful, and as I drop the sandbag that I've had over my shoulders, not all the water dripping down my face is sweat.
“You keep pushing yourself like that, you're going to end up with rhabdo,” Andrea says from over by the computer, where she's been working for four hours. “I'd prefer to not have to drag you to the hospital on the back of my scooter.”
“You brought my car today,” I reply, dropping down into a burpee and kicking out before pulling back in and jumping, touching the beam that's over my head. I'd found the two rope handles that Katrina had tied around the beam yesterday for pullups, and realized there were so many little things I still wanted to find. “Besides, rhabdo mostly hits untrained individuals.”
“And athletes who refuse to accept that their bodies may not be as strong as their minds,” Andrea notes, turning back to the computer and typing away. “I'm just saying, don't kill yourself over there.”
I ignore her and finish my set, stopping when the world swims in front of my eyes and I'm fighting for my balance. Enough, it's enough for now... maybe I can do more later. “How's the process going?”
“I’ve nearly... got it!” she says, sticking her hands in the air.
I stagger over, sitting on the bed while Andrea clicks away madly with the mouse, typing occasionally. “You're not going to believe all that she's got here. Holy shit, I thought I had information.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, staring at the blanket while the world still swims. I lie back, and the spinning slows enough that I can focus on what Andrea's saying.
“I mean, I have gigs of data, lots of documents, and I thought I had a lot. But Katrina... it's going to take me a while, but this thing... she's got just one file folder named 'PDLC' here that has over a terabyte of data. That's like twenty full-length Blu-Ray movies of information.”
“What's it all say?” I ask, covering my eyes. It helps some more, and I think that maybe in a minute or two I might even be able to sit up. “I think I might puke.”
“That happens,” Andrea says dismissively. “As for the info... I haven't had time to go through this all yet. Like I said, if this was a movie, it'd run for about forty hours, just this one folder. I don't even know what the hell else is still on here. I need time.”
“Take all the time you need,” I reply, sitting up slowly. “Is the computer locked?”
Andrea taps, and shakes her head. “It can be. What do you want the password to be?”
I think for a minute, and know there's only one answer that fits. “Make it... Hagakure. It was her favorite book.”
Andrea types, then nods. “Done. First letter capitalized. Oniichan, I know that this is important to you, and it is to me too, but I've got some other work I need to get done. Can I leave this in your hands, to start going through the data?”
“Sure, I'll stick to the PDLC files only though.”
“Good. By the way, when I come back tomorrow, I'll bring another book for you to read. It's a good one on business evaluation.”
I give Andrea a confused look. “Why?”
Andrea grows serious as she gets up and grabs her backpack. “Jackson, we're going to take down Peter. But the best way you can honor Katrina... is to be everything she saw inside you, the same potential I see. I won't let you waste it.”
I barely sleep that night, absorbed by the data that I read. Andrea was right, Katrina's pure amount of gathered information is staggering. I start with the documents, mostly a lot of PDFs, but also text files, copied e-mails, and all sorts of other data. The names I see attached to each are disgusting, and I realize finally just how far deep down the rabbit hole I've been living.
He may not have been responsible for Katrina's father, but Peter's had at least a dozen other men killed. Some of them had families, and some of them were for simply business reasons. Some of them, perhaps the most disgusting ones, were ones he had killed merely because they pissed him off.
After my eyes go bleary from reading text, I switch to some of the audio and video files. I listen to intercepted conversations as Peter tells people what to do to maintain their criminal empires. Most of them sound like Katrina was using some sort of microphon
e or listening device to get them, and I wonder just how many years she crept around, gathering her data before she was sure she was ready to strike.
Finally, just before dawn, I drop off into a light doze, waking up when I hear someone knocking on the door again. I sit up, realizing I've spent the whole night in front of Katrina's computer, and check the time, seeing that it's nearly eight in the morning. I've only been asleep for about four hours.
“Yeah?” I ask at the door, opening the peephole. I see a black woman outside, tall and statuesque, with intense eyes and a solemn cast to her face. She's pretty, but she wears the same gravity on her face that I've come to recognize on my own face in the mirror. “Who are you?”
“A friend of Katrina's,” she says. “My name is Darcy.”
I remember the name, and unlock the door. “What are you doing here?”
Darcy steps inside and lets me close the door behind her. “I should ask you the same thing, but I know the answer. Peter's sources may have kept it minimized in the news, but I know what happened. Of course officially, it was just a random shooting without even a body, the bastards. And I know you've had some help, there's no way you got into Katrina's computer without it. It's a pleasure to finally meet you face to face, Jackson.”
“Katrina mentioned you, the pleasure is mine,” I reply automatically, remembering a little bit of my manners. “How'd you know I was here?”
Before Darcy can answer another knock at the door comes, and I hear Andrea outside. “It's me. I've got breakfast.”
I open the door, and Andrea looks startled when she comes in. “Who's your visitor?”
Before I can say anything, Darcy introduces herself. “Darcy Weaver... also known as BlakDhal1A.”
Andrea looks surprised, but I'm even more surprised when she offers her hand to shake, since she rarely does that. “Andrea DeLaCoeur... Blue Sakura.”
I hold my hands up, confused. “Okay, I'm now officially lost. What the hell's going on, and Darcy, why are you here?”
Darcy points to Katrina's computer. “I helped her build that thing, and I taught Katrina a lot about how to become a world-class hacker. And I had a tag on it that let me know if the computer was accessed. It was a request from Katrina, since she knew what might happen to her. She told me if she disappeared, I was supposed to come here and unleash everything, including what's in her cloud.”
“She's got a cloud, too?” Andrea asks, and Darcy nods. “Just how big?”
“Only the juiciest stuff. And her gate controls.”
“Her what?”
Darcy smiles. “She had media contacts, network connections, the whole works. The gate controls are that and more. Basically, if we use them, we can shotgun everything we need to take down your father, along with Samuel Grammercy, and a lot of other very bad operators in this town.”
Andrea looks at me, and I realize they're leaving the decision in my hands. But it's not really a decision at all.
“Give me twenty-four hours to hit him as best I can my way,” I say, my hands clenching. “Then... unleash hell.”
Chapter 26
Kat
The converted office I'm using as a hiding space is unfamiliar, and the computer I'm using is barely better than what I could have gotten if I'd just gone down to an electronics shop, but it was all Darcy had available to give me quickly, and for a laptop, it works okay.
“So he's on board now?” I ask, and on the screen, Darcy nods. In the background, Bo is wagging his tail and setting his chin on her shoulder, she's let him up on the couch.
“He is. He made me promise not to wide band the direct stuff on his father until tomorrow, but Samuel... the Miami-Dade cops and FBI are going to be getting the stuff in about ten minutes.”
I nod, and rub at the back of my head, where the shaved patch on the back of my skull still itches. Darcy laughs, and I have to chuckle, too. “I don't know why it bothers me, it's just hair. It'll grow out.”
“Well, next time you decide to fake getting your brains blown out, maybe remember to fall on the grass and not the sidewalk?” Darcy teases. “Besides, it's been a few weeks. I bet in another month nobody's going to be able to tell the difference, not with as short as you keep your 'do.”
I smile and nod. “You're right. So Jackson is going to talk to Peter?”
“He's not going to do anything stupid, I made sure of that. He knows that Andrea's on his side, and Nathan's going to make sure, too. Remember, Jackson still thinks he needs to walk on eggshells to even get close to Peter, so he won't have a gun or do anything stupid like that. I think he's going to just tell him off, maybe try to hurt him mentally, but I just don’t see that having any effect.”
I nod, reassured. “That's good. And he believes that you just tracked my computer this whole time?”
“Yeah. I hope you decide to tell him the whole truth someday soon.”
“Me too. Okay. I'll confirm his actions with Andrea, he can't let himself get hurt.”
“We'll do what we can. Listen Katrina, I don't want to doubt you, but are you sure this is the right way to go about it? I mean, he seems pretty much on our side.”
I think about it for a second, while meanwhile on her end Bo licks her on the ear, causing Darcy to laugh and push her dog away, sending him off the couch and into the backyard. “I see you like getting ear kisses, too,” I joke.
“Not from him, the big baby,” Darcy laughs, then raises an eyebrow. “Well?”
“You and that dog, both of you never let go of something once you sink your teeth into it,” I grumble, then nod. “I know it hurts, but I had to be sure, Darcy. I had to know we could take them down, even if Jackson backed out. And the plan's too far advanced now to change it.”
“Well, you've broke that boy's heart,” Darcy continues, and I wince. Still, I deserve it. “When Andrea called me up telling me what he's been up to the past few weeks, I nearly broke with the plan early. He was about to put himself in the damn hospital he's so broken up.”
“I know, Darcy. I know. I regret it, but things are moving now. When the dam breaks, and the cops have both Samuel and Peter... I'll talk to him. I've already made arrangements with Nathan.”
“And afterward?” Darcy asks, and I know what she means. Once the information hits the media, in addition to taking down the DeLaCoeur empire, there's going to be a lot of other people looking for blood. New Orleans isn't going to be safe for me anymore, even as a ghost. Too many ghosts get exorcised in New Orleans, and voodoo only works so well.
“Afterward, maybe Katrina Grammercy needs to go away,” I say quietly. “But I'm pretty sure Coup De Grace will still be hanging around online.”
Darcy nods, and I see a tear come to her eye. She wipes it away, and forces a smile. “I can live with that. It'll be good to see you out there. It'll be good to know... to know you do have a future.”
“With luck, we'll all have futures,” I reply. “I love you, Darcy.”
“I love you too, Katrina. Take care, Baby Girl.”
She hangs up, and I can feel in my heart the meaning behind Darcy's farewell. We know the truth, that she won't be able to go with me, and that the next time we see each other may be the last. If there is a next time.
I sit back, waiting the few minutes before turning on the Miami local stations. I'm tapped into the satellite feed each station has with their national desks, and I see that it's the Fox affiliate who gets the feed up first.
“Breaking news from our crime desk. The FBI and Miami-Dade police have found within our city a man who, for the past ten years, everyone thought was dead. Fox's Billie Wagner is on the scene with more.”
The scene cuts from the studio to a news van outside the apartment complex where my parents live. The on-site reporter, a kind of young guy maybe a few years older than me, looks like he's halfway scared out of his mind, probably because until this point he's only done human interest stories, kissed puppies, and played with children for the morning show. Billie just strikes me as that s
ort of guy.
“Yes guys, I'm outside this apartment just south of the University, where an amazing story has come to light. It seems that this man...” the screen cuts to an ID photo of my father, “who for the past ten years has lived and worked in the Miami area under the name Michael Ball, is in fact not who he seems to be.”
It continues, but I've seen enough. I turn off the feed and pull out my phone. Tapping quickly, I send a text to Nathan.
Has Jackson come home yet?
No, but I think he'll be here soon, maybe within a half hour. I've prepared the way as best I can. Why?
It just went down in Miami. He doesn't have a lot of time before Peter knows something's up.
I understand. I'll inform him, make it seem like I got a call. He'll let the gates open here.
Thanks. Take care of him, Nathan. And deliver my message.
I will. Thank you for your mercy.
You have more accounts to balance than just ours. Consider it a gift if Jackson comes out safe. If he doesn't...
I understand. I'll text you when it's done.
I hang up the messages with Nathan and sit back. There's nothing I can do now, except hope that whatever powers have watched over me the past ten years can watch over Jackson now.
Another idea comes to mind, and I make another call, this one to Andrea.
“Hello?”
“It's me. I know voice communication is dangerous, but I don't have a lot of time. It just went down in Miami, and I have one more idea I just had. This one... this one's for Jackson.”
Andrea sounds suspicious, but hums. “What do you need?”
“I want to get every cent I can from Peter DeLaCoeur. For Jackson. Can you help me?”
Andrea laughs, and I realize she and I have had similar mindsets all along. “You're a little late. I've already been doing it. Give me fifteen minutes and you'll have the number and passcode to a numbered account in the Bahamas. It's one of his smaller ones, but it's all I've been able to verify.”
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