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Prologue
Zeke
6 months ago
“Shoot first, ask questions later.”
My boss, Travis, barks out commands as we discuss the strategy for our attack, but his words reach my brain through a filter. I hear them, but they’re hazy and muffled. All of my focus, every ounce of energy in my body, is trained on feigning a calm exterior while my mind is spiraling into utter chaos. I think I’ve done well up until now, but the façade is rapidly fading.
Ever since it came to light that my organization, the Havok Brotherhood, was taking on a secret society known only as the Syndicate, the anxiety that I thought was long gone has quietly made its reappearance. Exceptionally twisted in nature, the Syndicate doesn’t deal in drugs like we do; they deal in the flesh and their pockets run so deep no one can stop them. Merely hearing their name rattles me to my core.
Along with the anxiety, the night terrors, cold sweats, heart palpitations, and cognitive dissonance have returned to plague me every moment of every day, burrowing beneath my skin, eating at me from the inside out.
But I smile.
A smile that hides a thousand secrets and regrets. We all have secrets though. At the end of the day our alliance only goes so far. We each have those who we will live, breathe, and die for, and the fact of the matter is those people come before our allegiance to any organization.
“Zeke, you have the van setup?”
Wrenching my head free from my thoughts, I peek up from my laptop briefly, “Almost. I need to secure a few more screens, and I want to get some additional controls for Spencer. It’ll be done before nightfall.”
“Good. One more thing,” Travis reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small flash drive. Extending my hand, I cock my brow as he exhales as he drops the drive into my palm and I curl my fingers around it, waiting for an explanation. “This contains Syndicate information. Secrets. Fuck, I don’t know what all is on it, but I need you to find out for me. See if it has anything we can use.”
“On it,” I nod, muttering as my heart rate accelerates to what I’m positive are unsustainable levels. The erratic rhythm launches the organ into my throat, depriving my lungs of oxygen.
Every day since we began this mission to free Travis’ girlfriend, Spencer, from the lunatic who is chasing her, I find myself another step closer. Another step closer to the answers that I’ve been hunting for, though I’m not so sure that I’m emotionally or psychologically ready for what I may find.
Finding out the truth could mean a death sentence for me and everyone else that I care about. People like Riot would be in the line of fire simply for getting too close to me.
Plugging the drive into my laptop, I struggle to preserve my false display of collectedness. Travis shakes his head at the Knox Brothers as they dick around with their ridiculous banter and back and forth bullshit. Small beads of nervous sweat roll down my cheek from my hairline, and I hope like hell they are all too distracted to notice.
Opening the first file, I’m immediately inundated with a massive amount of folders. Each one labeled obscurely, leaving it impossible to discern the contents without opening them one by one. Scrolling and scrolling, I skim the files that seem to go on for an eternity.
Shit! This will take me way too fucking long.
Pinching my eyes closed, I take a deep breath in hopes of clearing my thoughts. I need a clear head for what comes next. I can’t go into it the emotionally unpredictable boy that I used to be, making stupid decisions and not trusting my gut.
“Where is your girl gonna be while all this is going down?” Blaize asks Travis, while simultaneously balking over the fact that he has Hannah teaching Spencer to handle weapons.
“She’s hanging back in the van with me,” I chime in, peering back down at the screen, tapping away at the keys as I attempt to crack the files on the spot. Attempting to create a code that can help me filter these encrypted files faster. “She’s going to be my second set of eyes on the surveillance and I’ll have her connected to the comms. We need to be fast, so the more eyes the better.”
“And you’re going to protect her if someone infiltrates the van?” Blaize snorts as he laughs, and like nails on a chalkboard it grates my nerves, causing my shoulders to slightly shudder. I’m not in the goddamn mood today, but happy-go-lucky Zeke never loses his fucking cool, so I can’t start now. Not when I’m this close.
Gritting my teeth, I wrap my left hand around my back and curl my fingers around the Glock tucked into the back of my waistband. Whipping it out with an audible whoosh, I place the muzzle on Blaize’s forehead faster than he can react.
I never even look up from my screen.
“Okay, okay. Pretty boy hacker has a badass side. I take it back,” Blaize chuckles.
Flashing a grin, I stuff the Glock back into my waistband. Internally the panic is beginning to fester and it’s getting harder to control. My breath sticks in my chest, stilling for a brief moment. Expanding and contracting at the sides, I swear I feel my throat closing up on me as I run the most half-assed code that I’ve ever thrown together.
But I keep grinning through it all.
It’s only a few moments that pass, but those few small moments feel drawn out, extending into the abyss.
“Shit, Travis. This is more data than I can analyze right now.”
“What’s on it?” he asks.
