It takes a few moments for him to recover, and when he does, it’s only so that he can stare fearfully at Ares, like he’s expecting him to put a bullet through his brain the next second.
Judging by the annoyance on Ares’ face, I’m not sure he won’t, but I’m hoping he sticks to the plan, and we get real information out of 404.
I walk beside Ares, slipping a hand on his shoulder. He stiffens under my touch, but lets me take the lead. I waste no time inproposing to 404 exactly what I discussed with Ares. That’s how I get to keep my promise of helping him walk away, and at the same time, I’m also helping Ares and myself.
404 agrees instantly. He’s smart enough to know he’s got no other choice except a bullet between his eyes. This is his only salvation, and he takes it.
Ares doesn’t want to waste time, so he calls for one of his men to bring 404’s laptop.
In the meantime, I give him everything I know about Elias and how I found him in the woods, his chest slashed open by a sword. The retelling brings tears to 404's eyes. He just found out yesterday that Elias was dead, and the details carry almost as much pain as the news itself. But it’s only when we all know the whole truth that we can piece everything together. Just in time for one of Ares’ men to come in with the laptop.
404’s hands grip the edge of the bed, in hopes of smothering the pain so he can talk. Truth is, nothing makes this easy. “Ares is right. Elias never showed up for Kharon. We had to get his replacement in. We always have a backup for our players. Some of them don’t feel too keen on dying for money, so we have to make sure the game goes on without them.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Who would want to kill him? And who would give him the uniform?” I run my hands through my hair, exhausted, knowing I have to start my investigation all over again.
Though this time, I have help.
“We only hand out uniforms after the contestants come to the motel,” Ares says, also deep in thought. “Did you check all of his files? Was he investigating anyone close to me?”
“No, I only found a picture of The Breach, yourname, and a bit of information about the former locations Kharon took place. Nothing else.” I respond, watching Ares cross his arms, examining all possibilities. “Who could have access to ourdatabase? Because it’s obvious, whoever it was, he knew Elias or of him before the game started.”
“That’s almost impossible because I use encryption and have an isolated system. Plus, I always run security checks.”
“Fucking check again,” Ares groans, realizing this is far more complicated than he ever imagined. Whoever killed Elias might have important information about his organization. So this makes it our shared problem. “Run a more specific one.”
“I’m running an audit right now.” 404 starts typing, cursing between his teeth, “Fuck, I was always more concerned about hacking things and getting into places, not that someone would actually get into our system. No one should know about our fucking system,” he mutters between gritted teeth.
But my mind isn’t on that. If Elias was never in the game, how is it possible that he was killed by a sword?
It seems I’m not the only one who has questions that need answers. “You know what I can’t figure out? How were you planning on getting Elias alive out of Kharon?” Ares asks, trying to find vulnerabilities in his system.
“Pretty much how we did with Brynn. Elias had someone down at the morgue. He was supposed to escape through an old service door that we wired to keep the other players from getting out. I was supposed to unlock it with a code. Then replace him with a cadaver, fix the cameras, and you know the rest.”
“Yeah, I know the rest,” Ares flinches, as if this just reminded him of the sacrifice he made for me.
“When he didn’t show up at the motel, I figured he got cold feet and decided to drop the investigation. But deep down, I felt something was wrong,” 404 says, regret lingering in his voice. “What the fuck?” he utters, the very next second, looking at the screen like he can’t believe his eyes. “There are several outbound encrypted connections to the same endpoint.”
“What are you saying? Is this even fucking English?” Ares asks as 404 starts typing faster, like someone’s on his trail.
“Yeah, English for: someone got in.”
“What the fuck do you mean, someone got in? Is it the fucking feds?” Ares comes closer to the laptop, but I bet he doesn’t understand a thing out of the numbers and boxes running on the screen—god or no god.
“I don’t think it’s the feds. It’s not their MO. There’s a hidden SSL key dating back four years.”
“Four fucking years?” Ares slams his fists on the table, breaking the wood where he hit.
I’m pretty sure 404 doesn’t know he’s a real god, so I put an arm around his shoulders before he shifts into something none of us want to witness.
“How did this fucking happen? How the fuck didn’t you find it before now?”
“I never thought we were in danger of being hacked,” 404 says, his voice barely above a whisper. “The SSL was in the program a year before I came to work for you. I just thought it was part of the code package that operates your system. Besides, it’s extremely well encrypted. I only found it because I specifically searched for it.” He shakes his head, like he still can’t believe it himself. “This stuff is so hidden that it doesn’t come up on regular security checks. Whoever this guy is, he knew what he was doing. He managed to override all your security protocols,” he continues, looking exasperated. “The SSL is issued toM.D. Cyber Security Systems,which sounds legit as fuck—because that’s like the most common uninspired shit you can come up with. But there’s no M.D. Cyber Security Systems registered anywhere. So it’s either a front for something or a dead end.”
I shift my weight, careful not to put pressure on my injured leg, watching as Ares looks over 404's shoulder, his fingers drumming a menacing rhythm against the desk.
"It's a front," Ares says, his voice cutting through the click of 404's nervous typing. "I need to know what they're fucking hiding." He takes a deep breath. “If the fucker working in your place were still alive, I’d kill him myself right now.”
404 swallows. "I need more time. Their security protocols are... elaborate."
