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Zeke definitely has one thing going for him. He’s the go-to tattoo artist for the entire city, and several surrounding cities. His work is superb, creative, and he has an uncanny ability to bring any idea to beautiful fruition.
When we reach the back of the shop, Riot opens a door on the left, against the far wall, leading us to the most intense computer setup I’ve ever seen. Monitors cover one entire wall, and a desk in the middle of the room has one giant curved monitor where Zeke is working diligently. Who the fuck would have known the quiet tattoo artist was such a high level computer hacker?
Spinning around in his chair, Zeke flashes me a smile, “Hey man, Zeke Adams.” He stands and sticks his hand out.
Gripping his hand, I accept the shake, “Zeke, hey. Travis Price. Riot here says you’d be willing to come work for the Brotherhood. We are in desperate need of an impeccable hacker and we also need someone versed in managing a business to help out with one of our clubs.”
“Yeah, Riot came to me, made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. So, I’m your man. Part time anyway, I still have a shop to run and clients to tend to.”
Cocking an eyebrow at Riot, he just gives me a little shrug and I make mental note to ask him exactly what that means later. Looking back at Zeke, I size him up and while I could use someone that I have at my full disposal, beggars can’t be choosers. I decide we will see what he can do, and if he pulls this off, it’s a done deal.
“Alright Zeke,” I say, pulling my backpack off of my shoulders and setting it in an empty chair against the wall. Shrugging off my leather jacket, I toss it on the chair next to my bag. “I’m not gonna pretend like I’m a fucking good guy. I’m not. We’re criminals, and you need to be ok with that. I do have standards though. We have legit businesses and we run drugs. We keep it to that right now.”
I pause, and he nods his head in acknowledgement.
“Something happened though recently. Someone is sticking their nose where it doesn’t belong, and I think I can find who sent him within the contents of this phone.” I say as I turn around, unzip the front pouch of the backpack, and retrieve the cell phone.
“And that’s where I come in, am I right?”
“Yes. This is really fucking important to me. I have reason to believe it involves something I care about. I tried to get into it, but it’s locked down tighter than a fucking prison.” My frustration simmers below the surface, and I’m itching to fuck something or get my hands dirty so I can make this goddamn feeling go away.
“Let’s see what you got,” Zeke takes the phone, and sits back in his computer chair, giving it a once over.
“Listen, if you can’t get it…”
Riot tries and fails to hold back a laugh, stopping me in my tracks, but Zeke just grins as he spins around to face his desk, setting the phone down and plugging it into his computer.
“Something funny?” I snarl.
“Respectfully Trav, Zeke’s the best of the best. He’ll get what you need. No if’s about it,” Riot grins ear to ear and gives Zeke a look. Zeke simply winks back.
“I’ve been hacking into government databases since I was 14 years old.” Zeke starts, “Grew up in foster care and hacking was about the only way I could start siphoning aside money to get this beautiful place up and running. Plus, you know, fuck the government.”
Alright, maybe this guy knows his shit.
He pulls up some programs on his computer, and I watch over his shoulder as he clicks a few things, opening up new windows. Moving from one item to the next quickly.
“Man, and here I thought you had a challenge for me,” Zeke chuckles. “Give me a few minutes. I’ll get you in."
I pace the room, cracking my knuckles as I walk back and forth and back again, wearing a fucking hole in the floor. Flicking my wrist, I look down at my watch and what I was positive was an hour, turns out to have only been fifteen minutes.
“Aaaand we’re in.”
Stunned with disbelief, I stop in my tracks and turn to face Zeke, “You got in?!”
“I got in,” he grins.
“Fucking hell! You’re on the payroll Zeke!”
He chuckles, “Thanks man. You said this was personal, so out of respect, I didn’t look at the contents, but everything is unlocked. Here,” he unplugs the phone and hands it to me. “I cleared any and all encryption, if you want it locked back up just plug in your own password, or let me know and I can do some higher level biometrics or encryptions or something.”
Shaking, I run my finger across the screen and tap. Opening the messages, I find that the phone contains one single text message thread. Opening the thread, my worst fears populate on the screen in front of me.
Spencer’s location.
Her new name.
Her new job.
