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“Useless,” Gus says, typing faster. “All of you fucking useless.”
The men on the floor watch with horror. Any man with a little IT knowledge knows what’s happening. They know what Gus is so vehemently denying. Starley Solutions is dead.
The Elliot Pac-Man swallows the last dot. The finale jingle plays as game over flashes on the screen. Then all the screens go dark, mine included.
A moment of stupefied silence follows.
Like someone trying to resuscitate a dead person, Gus continues to hammer out commands on the keyboard.
“Dad,” Elliot says, gripping his shoulder.
Gus shakes him off. “We have to quarantine the virus.”
“Dad,” Elliot says a little louder. “It’s over.”
Gus freezes. He stares at the dead screen. Uttering a cry, he snatches the computer, making cables fly, and hurls it through the air. The monitor hits the wall with a thump, leaving a dent in the plaster.
The men around me are shaking in their pants, no doubt frightened of Gus’s retribution. He doesn’t have a reputation for being unpredictable for nothing. None of them are stupid enough to stay to gauge his actions. They grab their phones and quietly move toward the exit before trickling through the swing doors.
I push to my feet and walk to the office that was supposed to be mine.
“Fix it, Hart,” Gus pleads.
With his wild eyes and disheveled hair, he looks like a crazed man.
Elliot shoots me a venomous look. “He won’t.”
“What the fuck happened?” Gus asks Elliot, rounding on him. “What the fuck did you do?”
Leaning a shoulder on the doorframe, I cross my arms. “Yes. What happened, Elliot? Are you going to tell him, or am I?”
“What are you talking about?” Gus asks, balling his hands and cutting his gaze from Elliot to me.
Pointing a finger at me, Elliot says, “It was him. It was Leon who sabotaged us.”
I chuckle. “Took you that long to figure it out, did it?”
Gus’s eyes go wide before they narrow with menace. “What did you say?”
“Pac-Man was my first game.” I straighten. “I’m very fond of that game. You have to admit, it was brilliant.”
“I’ll fucking kill you,” Gus says through gritted teeth, yanking open Elliot’s drawer and reaching for the gun inside.
I take the bullets from my pocket. “Looking for these?” I emptied the chambers of their guns on Friday already.
Gus clenches and unclenches his fingers like a boxer preparing for a fist fight. “Why did you do it, you little fuck? For money?”
“The question you should be asking is how I did it,” I say, pocketing the bullets.
Gus is shrewd and clever. I see the exact moment he allows his brain to function enough through his anger to put two and two together.
“You planted a bug in the program,” he says with insight.
“Right before I copied it on a memory stick and had it hand-delivered to Elliot.”
The rage on Elliot’s face is priceless.
Gus spins on his heel, facing Elliot. “Is this true?”
Elliot’s jaw bunches.
“Your son plagiarized my program,” I say. “And he didn’t even have the balls to do it himself. He got Violet to do his dirty work.”
“Is this true?” Gus asks again, his nostrils flaring.
Elliot’s answer is his silence.
The warmth and pride Gus reserved for Elliot are replaced with a cold look of disgust. His words ring hollow in the space. “You’re dead to me.”
“Dad—” Elliot says.
“Didn’t you hear me? I’m not your father. You’re not my son. You’re just another idiot I have to suffer. Now get out of my fucking sight before I tear you apart with my bare hands.”
Directing his anger at me, Elliot glares as if his father’s loathing is my fault and not by his own doing.
“Fine. You proved your point, son,” Gus says to me. “I want my data restored. I want everything intact.”
I smile. Does he think giving me a figurative pat on the back and calling me son are going to make me forget about everything? “That’s not going to happen.”
His eyes bulge. “What do you mean it’s not going to happen?”
