“You don’t have a name?” Trevor starts laughing so hard, he snorts and presses a napkin to his nose. “Shit.”
Austin stares down at his plate, now mostly empty. “Zephyr said we should call ourselves ‘Austin’s Network of Badasses.’ But there’s no way I’m agreeing to that.”
Everyone chuckles, and it feels so good to relax for a few moments. The conversation shifts to the most ridiculous ideas, and before long, I’m laughing so hard, my side hurts.
Maybe Leo is right. We’re together, and that means everything else will be okay.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Leo
“You look better,”Zephyr says when the video call connects. “Less ‘zombie apocalypse’ and more ‘bar fight gone bad.’”
I’d roll my eyes if I thought it would be effective. But though my prosthetic has some movement to it, the first time I tried the motion in a mirror, I decided no one ever needed to see it again. I look more like a cartoon character with a head injury than a human being.
“Arnica, ice packs, and sleep do wonders. Not as good as information we can use to put an end to this whole fucked-up situation, though. Got anything good for us?”
Domina and I sit together on the couch, her hand held in mine. Trev sits on the floor, and Austin leans against the wall, almost out of view.
“Depends on your definition of good.” She splits the video screen and throws the fake video from the rally on both halves. “Whoever did this knows their shit.”
The clip on the left plays, and damn. A crystal-clear shot of my face along with the Glock 19 in my hand, aimed right at Cortez. “You know the score!” the fake me on screen shouts.
“It even sounds like you.” Domina presses closer to me, and the worry in her voice is like a knife to my heart.
“That’s the easy part,” Zephyr explains. After a couple of clicks from her keyboard, Austin’s voice pours through the speakers. “Voice editing is for amateurs.”
“Shit.” I glance up at Austin. “Did you know she could do that?”
“No,” he says. “And I’d prefer she not do it again.” He shudders like he’s just seen—or heard—a ghost.
“Sorry, boss. But seriously…I can spoof anyone’s voice in my sleep. Video…that’s harder. Watch the clip on the right. Whoever did this is damn good, but I can show you where they spliced in footage from somewhere else.”
On screen, bright red arrows point out the slight imperfections. The hand holding the gun is a little lighter than mine. When she slows the video to half speed, my lips don’t sync up with the words. And behind me, the shadows are all wrong.
“So, you can prove it’s a fake, but not where it came from,” Trevor says. “Fuck. How are we going to convinceanyoneLeo’s innocent?”
“Here’s the thing.” Zephyr’s face appears on screen, and she tucks a thick lock of teal hair behind her ear. “The media doesn’t have this footage. If they did, they’d be running it nonstop. Because this shit is news cyclegold.”
“Not helping, Zephyr,” I warn. Domina has a death grip on my fingers, and while she hasn’t shut down like she did last night, she’s very much on the edge.
“If you’d let me finish…” She leans forward, her stare so earnest I shut up and listen. “This was crafted for Cortez or his campaign manager. No one wants this leaked because too many peopleatthe rally would call bullshit.”
“So what do we do now?” Domina asks. “The election is tomorrow. If Muñozisbehind this, killing Manuel after the votes are counted will not do him any good. The presidency would go to Manuel’s vice presidential pick, Villanova.”
“He’s got to try something today,” Austin says. “Which means we need to get to Cortez and warn him. Zephyr, did you find anything on Rafael Perez?”
“He’s a boy scout.” His photo appears on screen, along with his resume. “I dug up some complaints from former coworkers on social media. He’s a ‘condescending jerk’ and ‘he thinks he’s better than all of us,’ but no red flags. At the rally, when Leo started shouting and the IPS converged on Cortez, Rafael looked as shocked as everyone else. Could have been an act, but if it was, he should move to Hollywood.”
“Fuck. So we have nothing.” Trevor pinches the bridge of his nose. “Keep digging. And see if you can get traffic camera footage from around the Presidential Palace. Cortez is holed up there for now.”
“Already on it. What’s the plan?” she asks.
Austin reaches for his phone. “We try to convince Cortez to stay at the palace until the votes are certified. It’s the safest place for him—I hope.”
* * *
Cortez answers quickly.“We are not being recorded.”
