55. Nolan
55
NOLAN
The day before the MdM event (I was determined to figure out what that stood for someday), we gathered around my laptop for a call with Pythe. His username on the videoconferencing app was just a series of numbers and letters and his camera was off, his voice disguised with a modulator.
Hackers were notoriously paranoid, but in this case, I didn’t blame him.
“Let’s go down the checklist,” Pythe said. “Your guy planted the SD card?”
“Yesterday,” Rafe said. “Ghost followed your instructions, so you should have access.”
“Hang on.”
I heard the typing of keys, knew Pythe was trying to access the back door provided by the SD card Ghost had planted when he’d been doing a final security check on the estate outside of Paris.
“Up and running,” Pythe said. “I’m in.”
“Good fucking thing,” Rafe muttered.
We’d had to pay Ghost a fortune for his help, something that normally would have chapped my ass — we’d been brothers in the military — but didn’t this time because we were dealing with some very serious shit.
There were risks all around. Ghost deserved to be compensated, and it had been the only way we’d been able to get him to go the extra mile after our meeting in the 19th arrondissement.
“The malware on the SD card has already infiltrated their system,” Pythe said from his black box on the screen. “I have a back door into their closed network. I’ll take a look around, find the guest list for the party, get your new names on it.”
“How solid are they?” I asked.
“Solid. Real people — a venture capitalist, an arms dealer, a camera-shy crypto mogul — the kind of assholes you’d expect to see at a party like this.”
“How do we know they won’t be at this party?” Lilah asked.
“I confirmed they’re elsewhere this week before I spoofed their IDs. Venture capitalist is at a conference in Geneva, arms dealer is in South Africa, and the crypto bro is holed up in his New Zealand bunker waiting for the world to end.”
“So the IDs are solid,” I said.
“As they can be,” Pythe said. “You load your crypto wallet with the money?”
“The whole million,” Rafe said.
That piece of intel had come from Ghost’s IT source, who told him names were checked off the guest list on the way into the party but no one was allowed entry until they proved they’d loaded a cool million in US dollars into their crypto wallet for use at the party.
Imperium Fratrum wanted buyers, not window-shoppers.
“Good,” Pythe said. “How are you getting out of there if things go south?”
“We’ve got an exit from the roof thanks to Ghost,” Rafe said.
“That motherfucker,” Pythe muttered.
Lilah raised her eyebrows. “From the roof?”
We hadn’t gone into the details about that with her.
Jude grinned. “Don’t worry, boss. It’s all taken care of.”
“You got a place to stage?” Pythe asked. “You’re gonna have to be close to use that drone.”
“Taken care of,” Rafe said.
“Anything else?” Pythe asked.
I looked at Lilah, Rafe, and Jude, but they shook their heads.
“I think we’re good,” I said. “Can you let us know when you find the guest verification system so we know we’re good to go?”
“Affirmative,” Pythe said. “And hey, cover your asses out there. This shit gives me the creeps.”
“You and me both,” Nolan said.
The conferencing screen went dark as Pythe disconnected the call and I stood and stretched. “Well, the IDs are sorted at least. That’s big.”
Lilah looked relieved and I knew it was because she’d worried there would be a problem and Rafe would pull the plug.
“We need to talk about the showcase,” Jude said.
We’d been avoiding the discussion since Ghost’s source told him about that part of the event: some kink room where the girls had to have sex with the man who brought them in front of the rest of the party. Once the girls performed, they would officially be put up for sale.
Mr. IT only knew about it because of the security cameras that were connected to the network. It made me sick thinking about it, which is why I’d been trying not to think about it.
“It’s too dangerous,” Rafe said. “I’m not putting Lilah through that.”
None of wanted to put her through it. It was a sick twist of fate that put Lilah — the girl whose life we’d ruined by leaking her nudes — in the position of potentially getting naked for a bunch of rich assholes.
“The goal is to get what we need and get out of there before we get to that part,” Jude said.
What we needed was evidence: proof that Imperium Fratrum was trafficking women and the identities of the people behind the organization.
“Obviously,” Rafe said. “But we have no idea how things will go down. If we don’t get out of there in time, Lilah will end up in the showcase.”
“And if she does, we’ll be right there with her,” Jude said.
Rafe shook his head. “I don’t like it. What if she goes up for bid after the showcase? What if we can’t get her out before that?”
“Then we’ll bid,” Jude said. “Because this is what Lilah wants to do.”
Rafe’s expression hardened. “Fuck that.”
“It’s okay.” Lilah took a deep breath. “I’ve had a couple days to get my head around it. I’ll be okay as long as it’s with you.”
“You better fucking believe it will be with us,” Rafe growled.
What Rafe hadn’t told Pythe was that we’d loaded a lot more than a million into our crypto wallets. Because there wasn’t a chance in hell we were letting anyone else put their hands on Lilah.
We’d tear the place apart before we’d let that happen.