Chapter 8
Elara
I t’s been three days and we haven’t heard anything new from the bureau. The death of Congressman Chanler was ruled a suicide; drug overdose. Ryder and I have been doing our investigation as best we could, give the little evidence we have. I tried calling Holloway, but according to the Embassy, he went back to D.C. and is taking some personal time off, given the circumstances and is basically off-grid. We need to talk to him, but I guess that will have to wait for now. Maybe it wasn’t Holloway that Bardot was talking about.
The guy who killed Bardot is good at what he does, though. Minus the stormtrooper aim . He made sure he left nothing behind. No DNA, no footprints, no tire marks, -we don’t even know if he used a car- and we already knew about the shell casings. It seems like this guy just appeared and then vanished into thin air, just as quick.
The road getting to the warehouse was empty. No one was following us. Maybe Bardot was followed, and the shooter was waiting. But him waiting until we got there to kill him only adds to the confusion. He could have killed him before and we would still be looking for him. Finding his car would've led us nowhere and he wouldn't have called me. We need to check the USB drive Ryder found, but he thought it’d be best to wait a few days in case we were being watched. He ordered a laptop that’s getting delivered today; opening a secret USB on a government laptop probably isn’t in our best interest if we want to keep this under wraps for the time being.
Someone then knocks on the door, and I get up to answer it. I take the box and thank the delivery man, closing the door and locking it. I grab the scissors from my medical bag and open the box. Ryder’s injury has gotten better. He’s in the clear for infections, but it still needs time to heal. He’s been good about resting, for the most part . At least once a day, he’ll get grumpy because he wants to do stuff on his own. He feels bad when I have to stop what I’m doing to get him something, when any other time, he can do it himself. But, everything he can do sitting, I encourage. I don’t want him to feel like he is useless. I understand his frustration and I’ve explained that to him and how I don’t mind at all. But he still doesn’t like it.
I pass the new laptop to Ryder so he can set it up. It takes a few minutes for it to boot up and for him to make a new account. I sit next to him on the bed, watching as he types on the keyboard. I find myself biting my lip as I watch his hands move. Stop staring at his veins, Elara. I shake my head, attempting to refocus.
He hits the ‘enter’ key and clenches his fist into a ball, cracking his knuckles as he waits for the next prompt screen. “Where did you put the flash drive?” I ask, standing up. “In the pocket of my jeans.” He points at the pants on top of his duffel. I reach into the pocket, grab the USB, and hand it over to him. The laptop is going through the last few updates as it restarts itself.
As soon as the ‘you’re all set’ message pops up, Ryder inserts the USB into the port, opening the files tab. Everything loads and he starts scrolling through the list of files. “I have no idea what I’m looking at.” He starts clicking random files and closing them when there’s nothing but digital receipts. “Maybe there’s nothing on here, and it was just wishful thinking when I saw him tap the jacket.” He admits.
“No, there has to be something on here. He said he found something and there was nothing on the papers he had besides illegible notes.” I counter, watching as he goes down the list. “Wait! What’s that?” I ask, pointing to a file labeled ‘beauts rescuer.’ “ Beauts rescuer ? This better not be a porno.” He squeezes his eyes shut as he clicks the file. “I think it’s an anagram… I hope it’s an anagram.” I mutter.
The file opens, and names, numbers, and addresses flood the screen. Ryder clicks on the first name on the list and another screen pops up. This one shows banking information and transactions. “What the hell is this?” He asks, clicking on a different name. “The amounts are the same on every transaction, $5,000.” I state. “Besides that, what’s the connection?” I add.
Ryder continues scrolling and clicking, looking for anything that could help. “I think I can answer that question.” He clicks on the name at the very bottom. “Sebastian Harper. His banking transactions are the only ones that go down. He’s the one paying these people.” I take out my phone and Google ‘Sebastian Harper.’
“Christ, this guy is a mongrel.” I say, reading through the wiki page. “He’s a corporation and real estate tycoon. There have been rumors that he sometimes works with the Italian mafia and possibly others, and… Holy shit. He’s worth $2 trillion.” Ryder’s jaw is on the floor at this point. “I’m sorry. You said…trillion?” I nod, showing him the phone.
“So what does Bardot think this has to do with? He said he told you because ‘ your loyalty couldn’t be bought ’.” he pauses for a moment.
“You said you thought ‘ Beauts rescuer’ was an anagram. What for?” I study the letters, rearranging them in my head. I lunge toward the desk and grab my notepad and pen, writing every possibility. Austere cubers? No. Brace uteruses? What the fuck? No. “I got it.”
I write down one that actually makes some sense and show him the note. “Bureau secrets.” I say, happy that we may finally have something. “It’s a little on the nose, but not bad. Maybe there were some brains to go with his brawn.”
There’s something else bothering me about this file, though. “I wonder if anyone on this list is using a fake name?” I question. “It’s possible. None of these look like anagrams, though. Just normal names.” He replies. I sigh, realizing he’s right.
“Waylen thought this guy had something to do with the Bureau. There are no notes on any of the statements, but being that they’re all the same amount…” I pause, thinking. “What if Sebastian Harper is paying someone in the bureau? Or someone higher than the bureau, but still maintains a connection to it.
“Selling what, though?” Ryder asks, and I shrug. “State secrets. Military tactics. Something worth killing over, clearly.” I keep looking into Sebastian, combing through every site with his name in it. “Where does this guy live?” Ryder asks. “Here in London. Why? Have an idea?” I respond eagerly. “Maybe we pose as potential partners and pay him a visit?” He suggests.
I continue scrolling until I find something fantastic. “Let’s do that. But we don’t have to just show up at his front door.” I turn my phone, showing him the site. “He’s having an investors' ball in two days.” I beam.
I’ve always dreamt of going to a ball or some big event like this. Although those dreams were under different circumstances and stemmed from fictitious books, it’s a ball .
The excitement bubbles up inside me as Ryder brightly smiles at my giddy attitude as I practically jump up and down. I quickly settle down, realizing how nuts I must look. I don’t act like that in front of people. But seeing Ryder smile like that at my excitement felt nice. My shoulders sag as I look between the two of us.
“I have nothing to wear and neither do you.” I sit down, sighing. Ryder picks up my notepad and pen, writing something down before ripping the sheet and passing it to me. “Go out and find something to wear. I already know you’ll veto my going out with my leg like this. That’s my suit size. Can you find something for me too while you’re out?” I fold the note, putting it into my pocket. “You’re right about my veto. You need to rest up if we’re going to do this. What color do you prefer?” I ask, getting up. “Whatever color that matches your dress.”
Well, okay then .