Safe Mode: Deep Six Security Series Book 4

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Safe Mode: Deep Six Security Series Book 4 Page 13

by Becky McGraw

Those sleazy bastards were not going to win. They didn’t know it yet, but they’d just fucked with the wrong nerd.

  The war was on now…his kind.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The Smurf attack Dex unleashed on the Silver Chains host server an hour ago should keep Harlow’s geek brigade too busy to notice him digging deeper into their system. He set the pings to bounce off not only their own network machines, but amplified it thousands of times through a vast group of botnet sources around the world. The incoming traffic would grow and grow until his cyber-grenade finally exploded and completely shut down their internet access, thus shutting down their shady online business, at least for a while.

  Before that happened, he needed to finish his preliminary search on Master Tim’s machine, which he’d located fairly easily. Just in case, he’d started an upload of the contents of the Liquid Silver files, including those on Tim’s machine, to his cloud server so he could sort through them offline if necessary.

  But that was just the beginning.

  He wasn’t stopping until that bastard was on his knees.

  Dex also found the master list of phone numbers used in their phone sex operation, and wrote a script to systematically shut them down too. Communication was vital in a war, so he also added every number on their entire trunk line, which should take out the resort and escort service lines too. Later today, he’d go out with his brother to the studio and plant a few cell phone jammers to finish the job of taking them dark.

  The only things he wasn’t taking out were the satellite security system or video feeds yet, because they needed to see what was going on inside that sprawling two-story building in the desert. Not that he’d seen much so far. For some reason, the rooms inside didn’t have cameras. Only the main areas and the hallways were wired and limited portions of the exterior.

  Just as he took down the last of the thirty phone lines at the studio around six a.m., Dex’s phone pinged and he scrubbed his eyes as he picked it up.

  You see that? Patton asked, and Dex knew he had to be talking about the video feed.

  He pulled Susan’s laptop to him and closed the search screen to open the video feed and study the boxes representing each of the eight camera feeds. He squinted to scan them a second time, but still saw nothing other than empty hallways. For good measure, in case he needed them later for a loop, Dex screenshotted all of the boxes showing no activity at the facility.

  Nothing to see? Dex texted back.

  Most of the employees were probably still sleeping, because Liquid Silver Films shot their videos at night. He’d seen a few ‘girls’ in the phone room during the day, which was linked in, but not enough to justify thirty lines. He suspected some of the women must work from the resort and do double duty there or something. The ones at the studio were probably on the filming schedule for that night, double-timing it too.

  Master Tim seemed to keep his girls busy. If he’d have thought about it, he’d have set his computer to record the camera feed so he could rewind. That would’ve been a smart thing to do for an evidence trail if anything happened. He quickly set that up on his laptop, so if something else happened, he would be able to see it himself and would have proof for the authorities.

  Another hearse just left out the back gate a second ago. I saw them carry out what looked to be a body bag to the hearse, so it wasn’t just a social call.

  God, please don’t let it be her sister, Dex prayed, as he watched the cursor on his phone blink a moment. Checking out that funeral home was yet another thing he’d forgotten to do. For someone who was touted as a genius, he felt like a totally incompetent idiot right now.

  He was forgetting too many damned things. Because of Grace. Being worried about her wasn’t helping him concentrate.

  After he almost force fed her a hamburger, he insisted she go to sleep in his bed so he could at least try to focus, but doubted she was sleeping. He knew if he were laying there beside her, he sure wouldn’t be resting. There was too much fear-induced and purpose-fueled adrenaline coursing through him at the moment.

  His thumbs flew over the keyboard on his phone. I’m on it—follow that hearse if you can.

  Dex sat his phone down and opened another computer screen to e-mail Gray. He needed the accountant to cross-check the financials to see if there was a connection between the Desert Pines Funeral Home and Liquid Silver Films. That would be a good start.

  “You make any progress?” Dave asked as he walked out of the bedroom shirtless.

  Dex sighed. “Not nearly enough. Patton just texted from out at the studio. Another hearse picked up a package early this morning. I’m just praying it isn’t Grace’s sister. I could hear everything that bastard said to her last night, and he’s serious.”

  “What do you have?” Logan asked, as he sat down at the table. “Do I need to get Izzy to help you with anything?”

  Izzy—his replacement if Logan found out about the past he didn’t disclose on his resume. Grace had come close to giving him up at the hospital, then again last night. He was surprised that he didn’t find out at the police station.

  Dex knew it was only a matter of time before either she or his brother slipped in front of Logan, but he couldn’t worry about that right now. He was going to talk to him, but he just didn’t have time right now.

  “No, I’ve got this,” he replied.

  “You can ask for help, you know—that’s why I hired her,” Dave informed, leaning back to tent his fingers over his midsection. “You said you were overloaded.”

  “No, you hired her to eventually expand your business on the east coast,” Dex corrected, then leaned in for a closer look at the folder he’d just opened on Tim’s hard drive. “Uh—I may have just hit pay dirt.”

  “What do you mean?” Dave asked, standing to walk around to look over his shoulder.

  Dex swallowed hard. No wonder Tim Harlow was so worried about people nosing into his business out at that studio. “I think I know why those hearses have been making regular pickups at that studio.”

  His hand shook as he grabbed his mouse and clicked on one of the dark web links in the file titled Silver Special Stock: Cuffed and Snuffed, which was dated the day before. His video player opened the movie file and Dex cringed as he watched a woman, who appeared to be heavily drugged, stagger to a bed and sit down. His gut twisted at the terrified look on her face as she glanced from right to left as if expecting someone.

  An evil laugh echoed in the room which appeared to be empty, except for a bed and side table…and the video camera, of course. A masked man in black leather suddenly appeared from the shadows and ordered her to strip. She scrambled up to her feet and wobbled on her platform heels, then quickly shed her red lace bra and panties.

  Purple and green bruises dotted her very pale white skin, standing out in stark contrast. She turned and the crisscrossing marks on her ass reminded Dex of the marks on Grace’s butt. Fury consumed him as he watched the woman sit on the end of the bed, shaking, as she waited for further instructions.

  “Now, put on this blindfold,” the man barked, tossing her a wadded black scarf. “I’m going to be doing things to you today that you may not want to watch, very painful things. You’ll like that won’t you?”

  A whimper fell from her mouth, as she nodded and took the scarf to tie it around her eyes with shaking hands. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered, her voice raw.

  “Yes, Sir, please, Sir,” he corrected roughly. “And speak louder, whore. You need to get with the program, Sexy—or this could be your final curtain call. You know what happens to slaves who disappointment me, correct?”

  “Yes, Sir, pleeeease, Sir,” she repeated louder, and a tremor rocked her as she scooted further up on the mattress toward the headboard.

  “That’s a good girl,” he purred, as he walked to the side of the bed and grabbed her wrist. “But today, I want you at the other end of the bed, so they can see your pretty face twist and know how much you enjoy what I’m doing to you.”


  He dragged her down to the foot of the bed and forced her onto her hands and knees, then cuffed her hands to the rail along the outside of the bed that was obviously there for that purpose.

  Reaching above his head, he pulled down a large meat-hook-like implement with a very large ball on the end, then fondled her with it from behind. Her body stiffened, and she whimpered. He slapped her ass hard and she released a shuddering breath as she relaxed.

  His hand disappeared again, and her chin dropped to her chest where she emitted a low-pitched moan, while he worked behind her. When he stepped away, he reached up again to jerk the cord tighter. With a pained whimper, her upper body collapsed to the mattress as she arched her back to lift her rear higher.

  “Oh, no, that won’t do at all. You are being a very naughty slut today,” he said tsking as he walked to the foot of the bed to reach up again. He pulled down a cord with a loop on the end and Dex realized it was a noose. After slipping the loop around her throat, he tightened the knot on the cord flush with her throat, then reached above to ratchet up the tension to lift her upper body from the bed.

  He quickly moved to each side of the bed to adjust her arms on the rail system and Dex realized when her breathing became labored, the cruel bastard’s purpose was to shift her weight from her arms to only the hook and noose.

  “There that should keep you still,” he commented, and Dex wanted nothing more at that moment than to see this soulless devil burn in hell for what he was doing to this woman. The devil slipped a black belt around her waist and cinched it tight.

  He yanked her braid and her neck arched back. He held her in that position as he looped a smaller rope around her braid, then tied it to the D-ring on the belt. This sadistic bastard wasn’t done though. Dex flinched when he reached for the rope securing the hook again to pull it toward him. He tied a thinner rope to the center of the larger one then pulled it to the belt, increasing the pressure on the hook, lifting her so high her knees barely touched the mattress. He tied off the rope to the belt then surveyed the rigging.

  “Oh, God, oh—please,” she begged, her voice an agonized whisper, as she tried to get her feet under her to relieve some pressure. Her sharp, pained breaths filled the room, and that sonofabitch laughed. He slapped her ass hard, her body swung on the rigging and she screamed as she fought to still herself.

  “Are you ready for Master to make you come now, Sexy? Are you sufficiently turned on by my foreplay?” he asked, as he walked to the table beside the bed.

  “Yes, Master,” she whined and it turned into a sob of relief as her body finally stilled.

  Dex’s abs clenched, because he could only imagine her pain. He couldn’t imagine how anyone could find an ounce of pleasure in this. He suspected this woman was so beaten down and afraid of this man, she would beg him to do anything to her if it meant he might eventually stop.

  When her torturer turned around, he held a clear plastic bag in one hand and a large vibrator in the other. Dex gritted his teeth wanting to jump through that screen and save her.

  The monster thumbed on the wand and laid it on the bed to put the bag on his hand. He reached between her legs to rub the bag there, then calmly walked to drape it over her face, before he turned to stroll back and pick up the vibrator.

  “Oh thank, God he didn’t tie it off,” Dex wheezed, with sweat beads breaking out on his forehead, his heart pounding. But he had a feeling that is exactly what that murderer would do before this film faded black.

  “I can’t breathe, Sir,” she whined desperately, her cheeks turning red as the bag suctioned to her face with each frantic breath. She twisted her head left and right in an attempt to loosen the noose, to get the bag off of her face.

  “You’ll get enough air to stay alive, pet…as long as you please me,” he assured, walking to the foot of the bed with the buzzing wand. When he touched it to her body and held it there, the ragged moan she let out came from the depths of her soul. Her body tensed and shook, her fists curled rattling the cuffs, and the moan continued as she fought to stay still but failed.

  Dex’s stomach rolled and he gagged as he clicked the arrow to stop the video. His chin dropped to his chest and he breathed for a second until the sour taste left his mouth. He averted his eyes and fast-forwarded to the last ten seconds of the video, which would tell him if his suspicions were correct.

  This was an erotic-asphyxiation film—a snuff film.

  That would explain why these movies were on the dark web, a place where perverts of every flavor lurked, instead of with the other legal porn videos they sold on their online storefront. These types of films were no more than videotaped torture and murder, but obviously a profit center for Liquid Silver Studios.

  “I may need to throw up,” Dex said, swallowing hard, his hand shaking on the mouse as he forced himself to start the video again.

  “I may never get an erection again.” Logan swiped his forearm over his mouth and swallowed hard. “I’ve seen a lot of ugly things in my time…horrific things. But that has to be the most inhumane torture I’ve ever witnessed,” he said, looking as sick as Dex felt. “Do people actually enjoy that? What kind of monster watches that shit? Gets jollies from it?”

  “The monsters who lurk on the dark web, where the devil, Tim Harlow, sells this shit,” Dex growled, as he started the film again. He quickly closed the file again when he saw the woman’s limp body swaying on the rigging before the video faded black.

  “So, you think he’s killing them?” Dave asked angrily.

  “I know he is,” Dex replied. “That woman definitely wasn’t breathing at the end of the video, and from the date on this file, I think she might have been who was in the body bag my brother saw being carried out this morning.”

  The woman in that film was blonde. Grace’s sister is blonde.

  Dex had only ever seen Marcy Wentworth once as a teenager, and she was beautiful. Before being tortured to death, the woman in the video had been too.

  “I just hope that wasn’t Grace’s sister,” Dex said, his voice raw from the bile that burned his throat.

  A soft whimper came from behind Dave and Dex tensed. Dave groaned as he reached around Dex to close the video, and Dex shot to his feet to find Grace standing there as pale as a ghost with tears streaming down her face.

  “I’m not waiting anymore. I’m going to find my sister,” she said, spinning on her heel to run back to the bedroom.

  “We’re not waiting anymore either,” Dave growled, as he turned to jog to his bedroom. “We’re meeting in fifteen to discuss a mission plan.”

  Dex took a step toward the bedroom, but his phone pinged, and he opened the text from Patton. It was a photo of a very familiar blonde woman in an unzipped body bag and her eyes were frozen open in terror in her swollen, purple face.

  It was the same woman he’d just seen in the video.

  On my way back with a list. Need your help with it. Some bad shit is going on out there—I told you so!

  He glanced at the bedroom door, then back at the phone.

  What are the odds the woman in that photo is Marcy Wentworth? Dex texted back.

  I haven’t seen her in years, so I don’t know. Patton replied.

  Try to think, bro—this is important. Dex texted back. I don’t want to show this photo to Grace.

  The cursor blinked a few seconds before his phone pinged again. Marcy is blonde and the Jane Doe is blonde, that’s it. You’ll have to ask her...sorry.

  Dex sighed, glanced at the bedroom and resigned himself to what he had to do. Grace was the only one who could positively identify her sister, if that was her in the photo. His feet felt like lead weights on the end of his legs as he walked toward the bedroom.

  God, please don’t let it be her.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “Grace stop!” Dex shouted, when he walked out of the bathroom after his three-minute shower, but Grace didn’t look up, as she shoved the pistol Patton loaned her into her yoga pants.

  She had
to get out of here, get moving—they had wasted too much time. She was leaving right now to go find Marcy before that bastard killed her.

  “Have. To. Find. Marcy,” she squeezed out past the tight band of fear that closed off her throat. She’d only seen the end of that film, heard what Dex and Logan called it, and knew she had to do something before her sister ended up in one of those films.

  “We’re going to help you find her, baby.” Dex pulled her to sit down on the bed beside him. Something in his tone made her freeze to look at him. “I also think I have enough evidence to call in the police, and probably the FBI.”

  “I can’t wait for them! I have to go find her now,” she grated as she stood, but his hand on her arm pulled her back down to the bed.

  His grief-filled eyes said it all. “I need you to look at a photo that Patton sent to me, Gracie.” His voice, the tension in his body, seconded what she saw in his eyes. He thought Marcy was dead.

  Her hand flew up to cover her mouth and a whimper filtered through her fingers. “Why do you think she’s dead?” she asked.

  He swallowed hard, and his mouth moved, but he didn’t speak. Intense pain ripped through her midsection, and she moaned as the tears she’d been fighting gushed over her lower lids. Bending, she wrapped her arms around her waist and bent over to release the pain with a guttural moan.

  “She can’t be dead—I can’t look at it—Callie needs her, Brennan!”

  Grace held herself tight, rocked to soothe herself, feeling numb. How could he ask her to look at it, when he thought it might be Marcy? How could she hold herself together if it was her sister in that photo? How in the world would she ever tell her niece?

  Warmth melted the ice block in the center of her chest when Dex dropped his arm over her shoulders and pulled her into his side. He kissed her hair near her ear and his scent radiated in the warm heat rolling off of his body to comfort her.

  But not nearly enough. She had never been so afraid in her life—or guilty—because if her sister was dead, it was her fault for coming here.

 

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