Betrayal

by James Beltz

  As they walked the corridors of their building, heading for the nerve center of their new operation, Carbon was an endless chatterbox of complaints and threats. He warned them that when he took over his department again, he was going to have heads rolling if they “messed up” his lab or tinkered with the computers he had left behind. He claimed that he didn’t like any of the people who were here when he left, and if they were still here, they had better get on the same page as him or he would be doing a fair amount of firing. Brett politely reminded Carbon that all hiring and firing decisions went through Brett first, and to not get carried away. Carbon should settle in, evaluate all of the changes, understand the existing department dynamics, and then come to Brett with any changes he wanted to make. It wasn’t like they had left yesterday. There were bound to be many new processes and procedures in place since the last time they were here.

  Abbi was a chatterbox as well, though far less annoying. She smiled and bubbled with excitement, anxious to return to her role. After all, she was the one who had dreamt up this place and had shaped it into being. She couldn’t wait to see what improvements had been made, and meeting up with old friends and making new ones. She led their procession with a bounce in her step and her ponytail wagging back and forth like a happy dog.

  As they rounded the corner of the short hallway that would take them to the center of the building, an open concept, two-story giant room with workspaces in the middle, and offices and meeting rooms around the two-level outside edges, she came to an abrupt halt. This caused a small collision of the team following close behind. In a flash, her mood changed from upbeat and pleased-as-punch to simmering fury. She stammered her way into a question. “I… I can’t believe… Who…? Just who do these people think they are?” Her back stiffened, her chin jutted forward, and she marched with purpose to the desk outside the double doors and the solitary guard stationed in front.

  DJ was confused and tried to get an explanation out of her. “Abbs, what’s wrong?”

  She held up a finger over her shoulder to silence him and then pointed that same finger at the guard. “Open it up! Open those doors right now!”

  DJ shook his head, worried that this was about to get ugly. The guard was not to let anyone pass without scanning everyone’s I.D. card first. Luckily, the guard knew who they were. More specifically, he knew who Brett was. In the guard’s mind, the new boss was coming in and one of his entourage was giving an order to open the doors. He hesitated only a moment, looking straight at Brett, and then complied, swinging both doors wide.

  Abbi stormed through the entrance and struck a Drill Sargent’s stance: her feet shoulder-width apart and her fists on her hips. “I need everyone’s attention right now!” she shouted to the room. All eyes turned her way, looks of confusion and wonder on the people’s faces gathered beyond, waiting to greet their new boss. They weren’t exactly expecting a ranting woman in slacks and a ponytail. “My name is Abigail Slaughter. If that name doesn’t mean anything to you, I’m the one that built this place. I designed every aspect of this facility. I’m also the one that hung the Batcave sign above the doors outside of this room. I don’t know which one of you knuckle-draggers, pencil-pushers, or data-crunchers took it down, but if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get it back up there in the next five minutes or you’ll need to call the janitorial staff. Why, you wonder? Because someone will be needing to mop blood off the floor. Now, put my sign back, right freaking now!”

  Argo stood next to DJ, his body shaking with barely controlled laughter. The ex-sheriff slapped Brett on the shoulder and smiled, pointing at Abbi. “Now, that’s how you let people know there’s a new sheriff in town!”

  DJ closed his eyes and shook his head. Today was going to be a long day. Not quite the return he was hoping for.

  Chapter 23: Right Click, Select All

  The water park outside Dallas, Texas had few permanent staff. Aside from the management team that oversaw day-to-day operations, most of the people who worked there were seasonal employees. This meant, of course, many older teenagers in polo shirts roamed around gathering trash and cleaning bathrooms. There were plenty of similarly dressed college-aged adults that worked there as well. They were off for summer break and eager to make a few extra bucks. They blew whistles to keep the kids from sprinting barefoot around the pools and waterslides, ran the ticketing booths, and supervised the water slides.

  Of course, when your workforce was mainly kids, a few bad apples were bound to slip through.

  Tommy was working here to save a few bucks for a new gaming system that was coming out in the fall. His old one was on its last legs anyway. He had asked his dad for the money, but dad had a better solution. He told him to get his sixteen-year-old butt off the couch and get a job if he wanted the money. Quick math told him that this part-time, seasonal job would still land him far short of what he needed. So Tommy was looking for ways to supplement his income. Since Tommy was a bad apple, he had no problems engaging in petty theft to reach his goals. Customers were always leaving things behind. Mostly, this meant suntan lotion, tennis shoes, or the occasional pair of gas station sunglasses. Tommy took anything he thought he might be able to sell.

  He was making good progress swiping the things left lying around. Twice, he snatched a few wallets stashed under customers' towels. He had managed to even get a few pairs of expensive designer sunglasses that he sold to friends. Once, he even got his hands on some pricey high-tops bearing the trademark of a popular basketball superstar. All of that was well and good, but today, Tommy had set his sights on a bigger prize.

  He had paid close attention to the routine of the shift manager and saw an opportunity. He would swipe the master key to the customer rental lockers when the guy went on break and raid them for any valuables found inside. If he was lucky, he could come out with a big enough haul to carry down to a pawn shop and get everything he needed, plus a little extra. Since the lockers were in the dressing room, there were no cameras to watch Tommy engage in larceny. If his score was big enough, he would quit this job and spend the rest of the summer hanging out with his friends.

  Getting the key was about as easy as expected. Next, he grabbed a cleaning cart and headed to the dressing room. Once the room was clear, he set up cones outside the door, hung the “closed for cleaning” sign, turned the deadbolt to avoid surprises, and set to work. It took him all of five minutes to run through it all, emptying everything into a trash bag and shoved it into the cleaning cart. His plan was to stash his loot until it was time to leave, but with a surprising number of wallets, cell phones, and other odds and ends in his haul, he decided today was a great day to quit. He said nothing to no one. He just walked through the gate like it was no big deal and drove the used car his dad bought him to a pawn shop.

  One thing was for certain: bad apples know bad apples. Tommy knew of one that ran a pawn shop not too far from his house. The man inside had bought stolen goods from him before, asking no questions. Today should be no different.

  It wasn’t.

  Phillip Lansky was a pot-bellied man who had to be in his fifties. He was balding, smoked way too much, and generally looked like he needed a shower. Phillip was happy to see the garbage bag when Tommy walked in. “What you got for me today, T?”

  Tommy grinned. “I hope you got a stack of Franklin’s for me. Today is going to be a good day.”

  They went through the pile piece by piece with Phillip quoting prices on the things he wanted. The ones he didn’t, went back into the bag. There were several wallets, most not worth anything. Tommy had already stripped them for cash, but two were nice enough he scored five bucks apiece. There were three sets of high-dollar sunglasses, eighteen phones that Phillip said he could wipe and sell, one wedding ring that earned Tommy $200 by itself, and an expensive-looking portable hard drive.

  Phillip scrutinized the last piece, turning it over in his hands. “Who brings a portable drive to a water park?” he asked.

  Tommy shrugged.
“Who cares? How much you gonna give me for it?”

  Phillip didn’t answer. Instead, he said, “I wonder what’s on it.”

  Tommy was exasperated. “Some old lady’s recipes, some dude’s porn vids. Again, who cares? What’s it worth?”

  Phillip looked at the drive, squinting to read the text on a small label stuck to the back. “These things don’t go for much used, and I don’t recognize the brand. Looks Korean or something. Hmmm… Let’s see if it works, first.” He walked over to a beat-up laptop that was yellowing with age and nicotine smoke and plugged it in.

  Tommy leaned across the counter to try and see. “Well, does it work?”

  Phillip nodded, staring at the screen, and firing up a cigarette. “Looks like it. I think it has Wi-Fi too. Battery’s dead on it. Probably just needs a charge. Moves quick, so it’s solid-state. That’s good. But the files are locked with some security program.”

  Tommy drummed his fingers on the counter. “Like I said, probably porn. You can wipe it though, right?”

  Phillip leaned in closer to the screen, taking a long drag on the cigarette. “Maybe,” he said, blowing out a white cloud of foul-smelling smoke. “Let’s see.” He turned the laptop so Tommy could see better. “If I can wipe it, and if that kills the password protection, then I’ll give you ten bucks for it.”

  Tommy was mad. “Dude, that’s robbery! You know that thing’s worth a few hundred.”

  Phillip paused and glared at him. “Maybe, but I can’t get more than fifty for it, used. You want me to try or not?”

  Ten bucks was better than nothing, so Tommy begrudgingly nodded. Regardless, he had made the money he was looking for. He watched as Phillip went to the root directory, right clicked on the drive and hit the delete button. A second later, Phillip smiled. “Done. Ten more bucks added to your pile. What you gonna do with all that money, T?”

  Tommy leaned on the counter with one arm and began to tell him about the video game console that was coming out. He went on and on about how fast it was, the graphics capability, the storage capacity, and anything else he could think to include. He couldn’t wait to get it in his hands. He even listed off the games he was looking forward to buying. Phillip listened while he counted out Tommy’s money, puffing on a cigarette, thinking of how much money he was going to make off of Tommy’s stolen goods. Both of them dreamed of cash and what they could buy with it. Neither knew of the mountain of it they had just thrown away.

  The End. Or is it?

  You can help me out tremendously if you would leave a review for this book. You have no idea how that helps us authors. It will take you seconds. It will help me tons. Thanks in advance.

  Sincerely,

  James Beltz

  To my wife: There is no one like you.

  Thank you for encouraging me to pursue my dreams.

  Thanks for listening to me drone away

  about the silly stories in my head.

  You are a true gift from God.

  Special thanks to the hard-working people

  who proofread my work,

  shred my stories,

  and correct my mistakes.

  Susan Bieser Steckenfinger

  Bert Gevera Piedmont

  Ken Daniels

  Sara Engle Anderson

  Susan Coy

  Jennifer Verzosa

  Suzy Perry Weinrich

  Copyright

  Betrayal

  By: James Beltz

  ISBN:

  Published internationally by James Beltz

  James@JamesBeltz.com

  405-613-6279

  © James Beltz 2021

  Terms and Conditions:

  The purchaser of this book is subject to the condition that he/she shall in no way resell it, reproduce it, nor any part of it, nor reproduce any part of it with the intent to distribute it freely.

  All Persons Fictitious Disclaimer:

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and situation within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and coincidental.