The Family's Secrets

by T N Lowe

  The second company is T.Tech. On paper, T.Tech is a high-level technology company specializing in building components and computers that has an extensive research and development department. The odd thing is though, that their website only offers a broad description of what the company does. Clicking the link to contact the company for more information, I’m redirected to the legal team of Stonewall Holdings. “Damn shell companies,” I mutter to myself moving my search to Stonewall Holdings.

  Stonewall Holdings is a holding company, owning large shares in a variety of businesses, but mainly in the technology fields. Clicking through the site, I attempt to locate the board members; but, like the T. Tech website, I am directed to their legal department. I send a quick email to the legal team asking for more information on T. Tech, but I not hopeful.

  Flustered at not finding anything in my search of the businesses, I decide to look into the person named in the merger contract, Miles Blue. This search proves to also be worthless. I’m able to find Miles’s Facebook and Twitter accounts (and seriously, he needs to learn to work social media). His Facebook account has only eighty friends. It looks like all he does is share articles by a Baine Davis. His Twitter account is even sadder with fifteen followers.

  Feeling defeated, I get up and stretch, then walk over to dig around in the boxes. I find a thumb drive at the bottom of one of the cartons. Figuring it contains the algorithm, I plug it in and pull up the program. After a few futile attempts, I admit that I don’t understand what I am looking at and I decide to call the one person in town that can explain what this means.

  “What’s up little cuz?” Cain answers.

  “Just checking on you. What ya’ doing?”

  “Playing tea party with my girls,” Cain drawls, making a loud slurping noise.

  I laugh, imagining my alpha macho cousin sitting at a tiny table drinking pretend tea, “Oh my God! Big bad Cain is playing tea party.”

  “It’s not that funny,” Cain deadpans. “What can I do for you?”

  “I need help making heads or tails of a computer algorithm. Normally I would ask Shauna to take a look at it, but she is home in Philadelphia recovering.”

  “Ask no more. Send it over and I’ll take a look at it,” Cain offers.

  “Can you come here?” I ask, biting my lip. “It’s part of a big case and we need to be able to control assets.”

  “No problem. Text me the firm's address, and I’ll be there in… half an hour.”

  “Thanks cuz,” I say, ending the call.

  Fourth-five minutes later, Linda is escorting Cain into Liam’s office, “Wow,” Cain says, looking around. “Pretty swanky. Maybe I should change professions.”

  “You would have to wear suits every day,” I remind him.

  Cain chuckles, “Yeah, that’s not going to happen. What do you have for me?”

  “It’s over here,” I say, pointing to my laptop set up on Liam’s desk.

  Chapter Eighteen - Cain

  I plop into Liam’s leather chair and instantly fall in love with the buttery softness, “I need one of these for work.”

  “It’s a thousand-dollar chair,” Rylie says, killing my dream.

  “A thousand dollars? Who the hell pays a thousand dollars for a chair?”

  “The firm. I guess it is a tradeoff for making everyone wear suits,” Rylie offers.

  “I have a raise coming; maybe I’ll ask for a chair instead.”

  Rylie laughs, “Won’t Fi-Fi be upset that your raise comes in the form of a chair?”

  “Naw, I don’t think so?” I grin mischievously as I continue tapping on the keys. After opening the algorithm I look at the coding, trying to determine what it might be used for. “What company designed the algorithm?”

  “What does that matter?”

  “It will help determine what the algorithm is used for.”

  “A tech company,” Rylie admits.

  I expect to find an algorithm looking for the next tech gadget or gaming system. But what I wasn’t expecting to see is an algorithm that included predictive users and buyers of Kinsman Communication products. Picking up the handset of the phone on the desk, I immediately dial Kegan’s number.

  “Liam?” Kegan answers.

  “Hey Kegan. It’s Cain.”

  “Hey, Cain. Ready to come work for a real tech company?”

  I chuckle at his constant insistence I come to work for him, “No, thanks. I’m good. I’m helping Rylie with a project right now. Do you use predictive algorithms?”

  “Of course, why?”

  “Did someone at your company write it?”

  “Yeah, Shauna wrote it. Why? What’s going on?”

  “Can you come to the firm; I need to show you something.”

  “I’ll have my assistant clear my afternoon and be there in thirty,” Kegan consents, then end the call.

  “What’s going on, Cain?” Rylie asks, biting her lip.

  “Yeah, Cain? What is going on and why are you sitting in my chair?” Liam asks teasingly as he enters his office.

  “I called him,” Rylie answers. “I was trying to make heads or tails out of the contracts and parties involved. When I couldn’t do that I moved on the algorithm. I didn’t understand it, so I asked Cain to come and look at it. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Sure. So, what did you find?” Liam asks as he turns his attention back to me.

  “On the surface, it looks like the algorithm predicts the users and buyers of Kinsman Communication products.” I type in a bit more code and stop so he can see my screen, “Oh, fuck.”

  “Is that a good ‘oh fuck,’ or a bad ‘oh fuck’?” Rylie asks, confusion working across her face.

  “Really fucking bad,” I proclaim, closing the algorithm quickly, eject it, and quickly put the thumb drive in my pocket. “Call Patrick and tell him to meet us at my mom’s apartment building.”

  Pulling my cell from my pocket, I call Fi-Fi. She answers on the third ring, “Hey babe.”

  “Fi-Fi, I need you and Erin to meet me at the SCIF. Bring Landon too; I don’t want you to go anywhere unattended. Tell Mom to lock all the doors and keep the kids inside.”

  “You’re scaring me, Cain. What is going on?”

  The last thing I want to do is scare her but I’m doing what I have to do to keep her and my sister safe. “I’ll tell you when you get there. Love you.”

  “Love you too,” Fi-Fi replies, ending the call.

  “You have a SCIF?” Kegan asks, walking into the office.

  “You don’t?” I shoot back.

  Kegan gives me a cocky grin, “My office is one. We can go there if you need one.”

  “This needs to be untraceable,” I tell Kegan dropping our usual banter.

  “What is a SCIF?” Liam asks after talking to Patrick.

  “It’s a Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility. Basically, what is inside the room stays in the room and what is outside the room stays outside,” Kegan explains.

  “What is so important that we need to talk in a secure room?” Rylie asks.

  “Not here,” I command, walking to the door. “Oh, and call Tomas to meet us there; he’s involved too.”

  Chapter Nineteen - Patrick

  “Alright, Cain. We are all here. What do you want?” I ask, looking around the sparsely furnished white walled apartment.

  “Not here,” Cain answers. Walking to a large metal door that looks like it belongs on a submarine not in an apartment in D.C. After tossing his phone on a small side table he opens the door, “In there. Phones stay here,” he commands in a no nonsense voice, gesturing towards the interior of the room.

  I toss my phone on the table and step into the room. Erin, Fi-Fi, Landon, Rylie, Tomas, Liam, and Kegan follow me inside, Cain entering the room last, and closing the door soundly.

  The room is larger than I thought it would be. The SCIF must encompass the two bedrooms and most of the living room, only leaving the kitchen and bathroom intact. A Large server sits in th
e far left corner of the room while a small desk with a lone laptop sits in the middle of the room. There are also a couple of folding chairs propped in the corner opposite the door. “Okay, Cain, spill. I have a pregnant wife at home who needs me,” I spit.

  The girls in the room gasp, “Lena’s pregnant?” Rylie asks.

  “Yes, about eight weeks,” I answer as Cain walks to the laptop and turns it on.

  “What’s with all the precautions?” Kegan asks.

  “Sorry for all the security, but what I have to say cannot leave this room.” Cain looks around the room, and we all nod in understanding. “Rylie called me to look at an algorithm involved in a lawsuit. On the surface, it looks like any typical productive algorithm.”

  “In English please,” Erin requests.

  “We use predictive algorithms to project what people will buy or do. This algorithm is from a tech company, which isn’t odd. But as I dug deeper, I saw it is tracking one company, Kinsman Communication. That is odd because Kinsman Communication is not a competitor of the tech company.”

  “Okay, but even if that is weird,” Kegan breaks in, “that doesn’t warrant all of this.”

  “No, you’re right. That alone would not warrant this. But it is not monitoring your products or programs; the algorithm is being used to create a list of who is using your apps. Which means, whether it was intentional or not, they have a list of everyone in The Family.”

  The room goes silent, everyone processing what Cain said. “You’re telling me whoever has access to this algorithm has a list of every member of The Family?”

  “Yes.”

  “What exactly was the algorithm monitoring?” Kegan asks.

  Cain taps some keys on the laptop then shows the screen to Kegan.

  “In English, for the rest of us who don’t read geek, please” Fi-Fi scolds.

  “It is predicting the users of the Gnome Treasure Game and Pet Rescuers,” Cain answers.

  Shit!

  Damn it!

  Gnome Treasure is how members of The Family communicate their business with each other. Shauna had developed a secret garden for the members to leave messages for each other or to have a virtual ‘meeting’, of sorts. Pet Rescuers is the game Kegan and Shauna developed for the Russians black market deals, which has a similar set up to Gnome Treasure. But each pet represents a different request, such as guns, art, and drugs; anything but people. That is the one thing that The Family will not allow - human trafficking.

  We thought this would be a better way. We thought we were smart.

  “Other than us, who could know about the games, Kegan?” I bark.

  “No one. Shauna is the only one in the company who knows the true use of the games other than The Family,” Kegan answers.

  “Call……“

  “No!” Cain interrupts me. “Do not discuss this on the phone; in person only.”

  “Fine,” I growl. “I’ll go to Philadelphia and talk to Shauna. Cain, I want you to work with Kegan; look into this algorithm more; find who wrote it. Erin and Fi-Fi I need you to find the mole, now. This does not leave this room.” I watch as everyone nods.

  “What about me? Why am I here?” Tomas asks, having been quiet up to this moment.

  The room is silent while everyone processes what Cain has told them and waiting to see what I will tell Tomas. “There are documents on this flash drive orders for you to remain in Mexico months before Rylie and Shauna’s are kidnapped,” Cain explains.

  “Who could do that?” Tomas asks

  “I don’t know. The documents do not list names.” Turning to the laptop, Cain reads from the screen, “While agent Tomas Ramirez has gathered enough evidence to indict the Mal Cartel and Hector Calvo, he must remain undercover. There is an upcoming situation that will require his expertise.”

  “How did they know what was coming?”

  “I don’t know. But if I had to guess, I would say that someone in the CIA is working with both the Mal Cartel and the Family,” I reply.

  “I guess anything is possible. What is the date of the memo?” Tomas asks.

  Cain turns to face the room, “January.”

  “January? Four months before Shauna and Rylie’s kidnapping.”

  “Is it possible for a member of The Family to work with a cartel that we are not aligned with?” Liam asks.

  “Not without the punishment of death,” I admit.

  “Then this could be the mole,” Erin points out.

  “We need to find them now!” I bark.

  “We are working as quickly as possible. But they are smart and know how to cover their tracks,” Fi-Fi explains.

  “Li Wei contacted me, they located their mole and has dispensed with the problem. He will be here in a few days for a meeting,” I tell Erin and Fi-Fi, praying that he will have something that will help us.

  “Ask Li Wei to bring his computer guy, Jai,” Kegan requests.

  “Okay, I’m going to make sure Lena and Andrew have protection first, then I’m leaving for Philadelphia.”

  “I’m not sure that is a good idea; everyone outside this room is a suspect. Why don’t we stay with Lena and Andrew? Fi-Fi, Landon, and I can keep them safe,” Cain interjects

  I nod, “Okay. I’ll leave as soon as you all get to the house.”

  Chapter Twenty - Tomas

  “Rylie, why don’t you stay with us at Patrick’s till this is done,” Erin suggests.

  “No. It’s too far to drive to and from work every day,” Rylie argues.

  “Then you can stay with Hui and me,” Liam offers.

  “No, I need my own space.”

  “I can stay with you. I’ll keep you safe,” I offer.

  “You will?” Rylie asks, something like hope lacing her voice.

  “Rylie, I’m not sure that is such a good idea,” Patrick scolds. “No offense Tomas, but we barely know you.”

  “No offense taken. But sir, in the short time I’ve known Rylie, I’ve come to care for her. I would never do anything to hurt her.”

  “Thank you, Tomas. I would like it if you would stay with me,” Rylie answers, looking up at me with reverence in her eyes.

  “Rylie,” Liam and Patrick say together.

  “Wait a minute. Tomas is a good guy. He didn’t have to help me in Mexico, but he did. Tomas will stay with me at night, and I will be with Liam at work during the day. Everything will be fine,” Rylie explains.

  “Fine. But if you don’t show up for work, Erin will be at your door and drag you to my house. Understood?” Patrick demands.

  “You're overbearing, but yes. I will be at work every morning at seven a.m. like I am every day,” Rylie states.

  “Do you want to pack a bag then meet me at my place?” Rylie suggests, looking over at me sheepishly.

  “Sure, I’ll be there in an hour. Will you be okay till then?”

  “I’ll sit with her till you get there,” Liam insists.

  “Okay. We all have our assignments. I shouldn’t need to say it, but do not say anything to anyone outside this room,” Patrick commands, repeating what Cain relayed earlier.

  As I drive back to my apartment, I call my supervisor and inform him that I need to lend my services in protecting Rylie without going into the specific details. Without hesitation (which is odd) he tells me to take as much time as I need to handle the situation. Then it dawns on me, “You’re one of them.”

  He chuckles into the phone, “You know I can’t answer. Be safe and take care of her and yourself,” he instructs before ending the call.

  Arriving at my apartment building, I stop at the mailbox. After pulling a couple of advertisements from the box, I chuck them into the trashcan next to the boxes. Taking the stairs two at a time, I race to my small one-bedroom apartment on the third floor. The apartment is sparsely furnished with one chair, a small side table, a forty-inch T.V., a bed, and a dresser. Since I’m never here, it’s a waste of money and time to furnish the place. It is what it should be- a sad bachelor’s apartm
ent.

  Dashing into the bedroom, I pull my large Army duffel from the closet and toss it on the bed. I move to the dresser and pull shirts, jeans, socks, boxers, and throw them at the duffel on the bed. I jog to the bathroom, grabbing my toothbrush, toothpaste, razor, and shaving cream. Returning back to the bedroom, I shove everything into my duffle. Then I shot my landlord a quick text letting them know that I will be gone for a while. Then I head downstairs to hop into my car and race Rylie’s.

  Parking in a visitor spot in the garage attached to Rylie’s building, I walk into the lobby and check-in with the doorman. As he dials Rylie’s apartment I survey the ultra-modern lobby, with its stark white walls, couches, and chairs. Vibrant toss pillows and area rugs add warmth to the room, and making it feel like a home.

  “Good evening Miss Love. There is a Tomas Ramirez here to see you.” The elderly doorman says into the phone. He listens to Rylie on the other end then replies, “Outstanding Miss Love. I’ll send him up.”

  Pointing to the elevator bank the doorman directs me, “Miss Love is on the fifteenth floor. Have a good evening, Mr. Ramirez.”

  “Thank you,” I reply, pushing the controls for the elevator.

  Exiting at her floor, I walk down the hall and find Rylie’s apartment number. I stop outside her door as I hear music blaring. Knocking hard on the door, I hear Liam say, “I bet your neighbors called the cops on us.” Opening the door, he laughs, seeing me. “Well, it’s not the cops, but the CIA is here.”

  “Good. Tell him to get his butt in here; dinner is almost done,” Rylie yells back.

  “You heard the boss; dinner is almost ready.”

  “Thanks man,” I chuckle, stepping inside and setting my bag down as “Lights Down Low” by Max Schneider plays in the background.