Chapter 6
Reece woke early out of habit.
The hotel room was quiet, and the city had not begun to stir beyond the window.
He lay there for a moment, staring at the textured ceiling, cataloging sounds the way he always did.
The air conditioner hummed its steady white noise.
Distant traffic murmured through the glass.
A door closing somewhere down the hall produced a hollow thunk that echoed briefly before fading.
No alarms, nothing amiss.
Still, the sense of watchfulness hadn't left him. It sat low in his chest, not sharp enough to demand action but persistent enough that he couldn't ignore it. His phone buzzed against the nightstand, and he let it ring twice before picking it up.
"Maggie."
"You answered." She sounded relieved.
"I told you to call if anything felt wrong," Reece said. He sat up in bed, his gut telling him something was bothering her. "Something feels wrong."
"Yes," she said. "You don't exist."
Well, hell. Now shit would hit the fan. He knew he didn’t have a digital presence, and that was the way all Guardian key players existed. But he was considered a key player because his dad ran the company. He needed to know what type of search she’d done. "Tell me what you did."
She explained every step, every search and anomaly.
When she was done, he sighed heavily, rubbing his face. "Okay."
"That's it?" she asked. "Okay?"
He told her she was right to check him out, but they needed to be careful now.
"Careful how?"
"You stop digging alone," he said. "And don't use Darkwater systems again until we talk."
"You're assuming the guys cornering me are connected to my job."
"I'm certain it is." He just didn’t know how to prove it. He’d call his dad as soon as it was a reasonable hour.
"Who are you, Reece?"
Wasn’t that the question of the day? Did he tell her the truth … or maybe a version of the truth? Yeah, that was the best way. Grounded in truth but vague, "I work for an entity capable of keeping me out of the systems you searched," he said finally. And if that didn’t scare her, nothing would.
"Are you dangerous?" she asked quietly.
"Yes," Reece said. He was dangerous and had a dangerous job. "But not to you. My job requires a skillset that most would consider violent. I usually work overseas. And I never take action unless someone gives me a reason."
She was quiet for a long time before simply saying, "Okay. Then what do I do?"
Reece didn’t want her to do a damn thing, but the likelihood of that happening was next to zero. "We figure out who sent those men. And why they approached you now."
"And if they're still watching?" she asked.
"They are," Reece knew it like he knew the back of his hand.
They talked for a couple more minutes before he made her promise not to leave the hotel without an escort.
Okay, so he needed to call his father and apologize for the wake-up call he’d undoubtedly gotten when Maggie’s search set off all the bells and whistles.
He rolled over to put his phone on the nightstand when it rang again.
When he saw the name on the screen, he immediately swiped to accept. “Dad, is everything okay?”
Jason King did not waste time. “You somewhere you can talk?”
Straightening, Reece propped his pillow behind his head. “Yeah. What’s going on?”
“Tell me why alarms went off on your name this morning at zero dark thirty.”
Reece rubbed his face. “Ah, man. Maggie. She ran my name and number. She just called me and told me. Sorry about that.”
“Who’s Maggie?”
Reece sighed and told his father about the situation he interrupted yesterday. “I couldn’t not step in.”
“True,” his father said. In the background, he could hear his mom. “Yes, please, it’s going to be a coffee type of day,” his father said with his hand almost over the receiver of the phone.
“Sorry about that.” His dad didn’t get many nights that weren’t interrupted by some briefing or mission.
“Believe me, it wasn’t just you. You did take up most of my worries, though. I’ll have my specialist take a look and see what’s going on.”
“Ah, a super-secret squirrel that you keep in a cage somewhere in the dark that knows everything about everyone?”
“No, that would be your Aunt Jewell, and she lives in a cave, not a cage.”
Reece laughed. “I’m going to tell her you said that.”
“Yeah, let’s not.” Jason chuckled. “My specialist is someone with more skills than Aunt Jewell has, and he can do things that Jewell could only imagine. I can’t tell you more except that I trust him unconditionally.”
Reece blinked at that bit of information. “Wow.” There wasn’t much more to say was there?
“That stays between us.”
“Yeah, sure. Not a problem, Dad.” Reece’s world tilted for a moment as he adjusted to the news that there was a better computer person out there. His Aunt Jewell had always been the top in Guardian. The thought someone else was better…well, that was shocking.
“Do you think this woman, Maggie, is trustworthy?” His father’s question drew him back to the conversation.
“Yes, and naive. She’s a small-town girl who grew up in Nebraska. My gut says everything that happened yesterday was a complete and systemic shock to her.
“Okay. I’ll make a few calls and get back with you.”
“I’ll be here.” He wasn’t going anywhere. “Talk to you then,” Reece said and then hung up. He’d love a coffee, but when his father put wheels in motion, shit happened.
* * *
Jason King sat behind his home office desk, cane resting within reach.
He was on his third cup of coffee. Sleep had been broken by notifications and calls from Ronan and Gabby.
Both were excellent executives who made the right decisions.
Now, they only needed to learn to have faith in their abilities.
That would happen in time, but the notification that had kept him awake and chilled to the bone was the one he was working on now.
Someone had tried to search for his boy.
He sent a message to Max, gave him a rundown, and asked for response ASAP.
Not more than three minutes later, he had a video call with his specialist.
The screen flickered, then steadied, and Max’s face filled the monitor, lit by the blue wash of data screens behind him.
He looked alert, keyed in, the way he did when he was already ten steps ahead of everyone else in the room.
Which was all the fucking time. Jason rarely felt like he was playing catch-up, but around Max, that sensation was real.
“Did you find anything?” Jason asked.
“Yes, and that was before you called. I’ve been watching Darkwater Security,” Max replied.
“And you’re not going to like any of it.
They sell themselves as a persistent maritime intelligence platform.
Fixed offshore installation. International waters.
Non-sovereign posture. The pitch is that they sit where satellites have blind spots and feed cleaned, aggregated data back to paying clients. ”
Jason leaned back slightly. “Observation without interference.”
“That’s the line,” Max confirmed. “They claim no kinetic authority. No unilateral action. All client-directed. Heavy emphasis on ethical architecture and transparent audit trails.” Max’s voice grew dark as he continued, “But that isn’t what they do.”
Jason leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, eyes fixed on the screen. He’d learned long ago that silence made men like Max talk faster and more honestly.
“Fill me in,” he said.
Max brought up a second window and began sharing his screen.
Jason watched the information scroll past. Shipping lanes layered with satellite feeds. Financial flows stitched together with communications metadata. It wasn’t raw intelligence. It was something far more dangerous.
“Darkwater isn’t just a private security contractor,” Max said. “They’re an intelligence broker. Offshore. Unregulated. Unauthorized.”
Jason felt the slow tightening in his chest. Guardian lived in gray areas, but they lived by rules. This was something else.
“Their systems are shielded, and they have fantastic coders, programmers, and analysts who are highly segregated. The left hand and the right hand don’t know the other exists.
Darkwater aggregates everything,” Max continued.
“Maritime movement, logistics, private communications metadata, financial transfers. They correlate it and build pattern-of-life models.”
Jason’s gaze sharpened. “And sell it.”
“Yes,” Max said. “Not data—insight, predictions, and leverage.”
“You can’t tell me the people who work there don’t know about it.”
“The executives do. The workers? They get tasks daily. They complete their research and submit it. The aggregation is done behind the scenes, and gates are inserted into programs so they can access the information at will.”
Jason studied the screen. He recognized the architecture. The ambition behind it. He also recognized the danger.
“Who are they sending it to?” Jason asked.
“Anyone who knows how to hide,” Max replied. “Shell corporations. Governments that comply publicly and violate privately. No terrorists on paper, but plenty in practice.”
Jason exhaled slowly. “That puts them past the line.”
“They crossed that marker a while ago,” Max said. “Now, I think they’re shaping outcomes.”
Jason straightened. “Explain.”
“In theory, they delay shipments. Influence insurance markets. Nudge supply chains just enough to destabilize regions without leaving fingerprints.”
Jason felt the weight of it settle in. “Influence without accountability.”
“Exactly,” Max said. “And they’re stockpiling leverage.”
The screen shifted again. Profiles appeared. Redacted names. Risk assessments layered with personal data. Jason’s jaw tightened.
“They maintain encrypted dossiers on executives, military officers, intelligence personnel, NGO leaders, journalists,” Max said. “Financial irregularities. Personal vulnerabilities. Communication patterns.”
“Blackmail,” Jason said flatly.