I sighed, exhausted from all the mess. I didn’t go out on jobs for a reason. I’m the computer guy. I do logistics. Tonight, I was in the middle of the greatest hack of all time and nearly lost my life because of it.
Fuck, Kronos is right.
* * *
“Mr. Powers.”I look up at my assistant, Kevin.
“Yeah, Kevin?” I rub the back of my neck in utter frustration. I’ve been at this computer now for almost twelve hours. The cameras around the woods are fucking useless. I’ve traced every vehicle in the area we live in and out on Route 7. There’s nothing suspicious.
“The forensics on the bombs came back. It matched a bombing from about eight years ago.”
My hands freeze over the keyboard. “And which bombing was that?”
Kevin shifts nervously at the door. He knows I do bad things. He tolerates the hacking, but this is getting on the edge for him.
“You remember the Mexican Cartel and the Cuban war here in the slums?”
I know what happened, but I can’t tell Kevin that I was the guy responsible for that war. Keeping silent, I nod to him to continue. It’s official. Haydes is behind the attacks against us. Now I’ve got to find the son of a bitch.
When Kevin doesn’t say anything else, I smile at him. “Thank you, Kevin, send the report to me then go home. I’ve kept you here long enough.”
“It’s nice to see you here.” He smiles at me with a flirty look and if I wasn’t wrapped up in two men and a little warrior, I would be all over him.
He shuts my door and I text Kronos at once.
“Confirmed.” That’s all I need to tell him. He calls me, but a video message pops up on my phone, blocking his call.
“Enjoy the show. This is the only way you three will ever see her again,” Haydes’s voice comes over the phone’s speaker, and the screen shows Charlotte. She’s stepping out of the shower, singing a song. Damn, I didn’t know she could sing.
My heart beats a crazy rhythm as I take in the sight. The song she sings talks about how she’s happy to be away from an ex-lover. She has my head pounding, dick throbbing. All this does is solidify how badly I want her. She looks healthy and unharmed. Well, no new bruising or cuts. My teeth grind together as the camera pans down her body.
Fuck, she’s gorgeous. I see my handy work on her back, and I groan with need. The video is lost and the message ends.
“Fuck.” I pound my fist against the desk and it’s not two seconds later that Kronos is calling me again. I try to open the video again and it pulls up a screen for a 404 error. Fuck. Dammit all to hell.
I answer the phone with a heavy sigh. “Yeah?”
“Tell me you can trace that?” The lethal energy in Kronos’s voice sets me off.
I snap back at him. “I don’t fucking know. The loop ended and I’m afraid it may be a dead live feed. Which isn’t traceable unless they are streaming live.”
“Hold on, Ayres is calling me.” Kronos places me on hold and within seconds he’s back along with Ayres.
Ayres cuts in and growls at both of us. “If he touches…”
“Shut up, Ayres. Right now we need to fucking find her. Hypnos, is there no way to trace the car he took?”
“I’m working on it. But the cameras on Route 7 are a dead end. The dock didn’t have any cars passing by at the time she was taken. It’s like the fucker disappeared through thin air.”
“I should have killed him when he caused that mother fucking war,” Kronos spits out.
“Dude, we were barely keeping our territory alive. We had our hands full back then.” Ayres reminds him.
“There’s a reason we have no witnesses!” Kronos yells.
I let them argue. That’s what they are good at when they are pissed. It leaves less of a blood trail, too. I peck away at the keyboard, tracing the backdoor of the message. I end up in no-man's-land on the internet.
“Guys.” I try to interrupt them. “Hey, shut up. I’ve got something.”
