6. Grayson

6

GRAYSON

I peer over at the screen in Charlotte’s hand. My mind still reels from the fact the Order demanded a cash payment. From my admittedly brief research on the group, that seems unusual for them. Not their usual modus operandi.

But before I can digest that, the new video demands my attention. The Order’s logo, a bastardized union of freemason and new age symbolism, appears as a voice over begins.

“We are the Aegis Order. We are the silent majority.”

I crane my head to the side, putting my ear closer to the phone.

“What is it?” Charlotte asks.

“There's something odd about the voice. Like it’s AI generated, maybe. The inflection is mechanical, too precise.”

I stop talking, because the voice over begins anew.

“We have annexed Charlotte Gilroy’s social media pages for our moral imperative. From now on, these pages will carry the beacon for the Aegis Order. This is a call to arms for all true free thinking citizens of the world. Opt in, or perish.”

“What?”

Charlotte sputters as notifications flash up in rapid succession on her screen. All of them pertain to a new video posting on her account.

“Someone just uploaded fifteen videos to my page!”

“Probably nothing but more nonsensical propaganda. It’s best to ignore it.”

“Ignore it? I’m going to take it down right now.”

As if on cue, the voice over cuts in again.

“If Charlotte Gilroy or her team attempts to remove any of these videos, the Aegis Order will execute her for crimes against all humanity.”

Charlotte’s face turns white. She stares, wide-eyed, at her screen as the phone trembles badly in her hand.

“We are the Aegis Order, and we have spoken.”

I gently take the phone out of her hand and set it in the center console.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let them so much as touch you, Charlotte.”

I’m surprised by the vehemence in my voice. She seems to be surprised, too. Charlotte’s gaze darts my way. I can tell she wants to be reassured, but given what she just went through, I’m not surprised she isn’t.

“Are you going to protect me twenty four seven for the rest of my life?”

My ire is up, and I blurt out my reply without a filter.

“If I have to, yes! I won’t let them lay a god damned finger on you. I’ll cut their hands off first.”

Charlotte closes her mouth, and gives me a long, silent stare. I think maybe I’ve scared her.

“I’m sorry, that wasn’t professional.”

“No, it’s fine.”

A weak smile tugs at her lips, and her gaze holds less despair than a moment ago.

“It’s actually kind of nice to hear you say that.”

Elation burns through my chest. I can’t believe how happy hearing that makes me. It’s a bad sign that I’m way more into Charlotte than I have any right to be.

Charlotte’s eyes narrow, and her smile fades.

“What’s wrong?”

She chuckles and shakes her head, midnight mane glossy and dazzling in the dying sunlight.

“Nothing. I just realized I said it’s nice to hear about people getting their hands cut off. I mean, it’s probably hyperbole, and you didn’t mean it.”

“Oh no. I meant every word.”

I give her a somber look to let her know I’m not screwing around.

“When I took this job, I made a promise to keep you safe. If it means I have to put my body between you and danger, then that’s what I’m going to do.”

It comes out a lot more like macho bragging than I intended. But Charlotte doesn’t mind.

“Well, hopefully you won’t have to. I mean, for all we know the Order is just a bunch of scrawny computer nerds holed up somewhere in their mother’s basement, right?”

I don’t actually agree, but I nod.

“Yeah, right.”

She gives me an appraising look. Maybe I wasn’t as convincing as I thought.

“Would you really cut off someone’s hand if they came after me?”

“With a rusty spoon, if I had to.”

She chuckles, and her smile grows coy.

“I guess you’d do the same for anyone else you were assigned to protect?”

It’s not often I’m caught off guard. I was not prepared for this question. I hesitate for about six heartbeats too long before I answer.

“Of course.”

Charlotte laughs. I’m glad that she’s not despairing anymore, even if her humor is at my expense, sort of.

The latest Order video has me worried. I really need better intel on them. Official channels are closed to me now, but I still have my unofficial CIA channels. In fact, one guy is in town, and even told me to call him if I needed help.

“I need to pull over for a minute. Need to send a couple of texts.”

“Um, okay.”

I pull over into a hotel parking lot, coming to a stop in the shade of a big palm tree. Charlotte watches while I type out a brief text.

“Who are you talking to?”

“An old friend of mine from my CIA days. He might be able to help me out with information on the Aegis Order.”

I send the text off to Malloy. Charlotte opens the door to the jeep.

“I’m going into the hotel store for a gatorade, do you want anything?”

“Wait.” I open my door as well. “I’m coming with you.”

“You really think that the Order would try to kill me in a hotel lobby?”

“Honestly, I have no idea what they are capable of. Better safe than sorry.”

Charlotte pauses, appears to consider my words, and then shrugs.

“I can’t argue with that, I guess.”

I follow her into the hotel, trying to juggle a text and keeping watch for danger. The cool blast of air conditioning chills the sweat on my skin as we enter the lobby.

The trouble with a group like Aegis Order is that they could literally be anybody. Zealots can mask their true faces when they need to. I remind myself that anyone could be a danger to Charlotte, from the baggage claim boy to the woman behind the front desk.

I relax a little when we enter the hotel marketplace. There’s only one way in or out of here, and I can keep better track of who’s coming and going. I do most of my texting without looking at the screen, relying on autocorrect and a final edit to keep me from sending gibberish.

“Are you still texting with your friend?”

I glance over at Charlotte and shake my head.

“No, I’m texting Cole, another guy who works at Platinum Security. Kind of a by-the-book bore, but he’s reliable.”

“Are you calling for backup or something?”

“Not exactly. I need someone to keep you safe while I see a contact of mine. A lot of the guys at PS are less available now, and forgo the riskier stuff. They want to be able to come home safely to their families at the end of the day.”

She arches a brow, holding the freezer door halfway open.

“I can’t go with you?”

“Unfortunately, this contact is sort of a friend of a friend of a friend. I’ve never met him personally and I don’t know how it’s going to go. It’s too volatile of a situation to involve you in when my job is to keep you safe.”

“Okay. This Cole guy isn’t going to hit on me, is he?”

I scowl back at her. “No.”

She purses her lips and makes a cooing sound.

“Oh, Mr. Grayson, are you jealous?”

Her barb sticks right in the heart, because I am jealous. Not that I’m going to admit anything of the sort.

“Don’t be absurd.”

I turn away from her and look back at the screen, even though I haven’t gotten a reply from Cole yet.

She grabs a pair of sunglasses from a nearby rack and dons them. Charlotte looks at her reflection in the tiny rectangular mirror attached to the rack.

“Kind of blingy, but still my style. What do you think?”

She spins around and strikes a pose. My heart skips a beat, and my mouth goes dry.

“I think you look great.”

Why did I say that? It was true, but in the CIA I learned to never speak the truth unless there was no other option.

Charlotte throws me off my game. Big time. It’s something I really need to watch out for. I resolve to be more disciplined from now on.

Charlotte beams a dazzling smile, and walks up to the counter.

“I’ll take the drinks and the glasses…Grayson, are you sure you don’t want anything?”

“I’m fine.”

My voice breaks a little, belying the words coming out of my mouth. Fortunately, Cole gets back to me at last and I have an excuse not to look her in the eye.

Cole agrees to meet up at the hotel. Even though I’m only going to be gone for a couple of hours, I decide it would be best to rent a room for Charlotte and Cole. More secure than them hanging out in the lobby.

When I announce this to Charlotte, though, she wastes no time in having a field day with it.

“Not only are you calling one of your bros to watch me, you’re going to rent us a hotel room as well. It’s like you want us to hook up or something.”

I grit my teeth as I hand the front desk agent my company expense card.

“I assure you, I don’t want you to hook up with anyone.”

“Okay, if you say so.”

I close my eyes tightly for a moment and then do my best to carry on stoically as possible.

Cole shows up after a mercifully short wait. I watch as he gets out of a black pickup truck. His slightly shaggy beard and hair belie the fact he was a leatherneck for a long time.

Now he’s a civilian, just like the rest of us at Platinum Security. But you know what they say. You can take the soldier out of the war, but you can’t take the war out of the soldier. I can pick up on a dozen signs of his former military service just on the way he walks, breathes, and scans the lobby when he enters the hotel.

“Is that your guy? I don’t recognize him from the Platinum Security webpage.”

“He’s relatively new, like me. His name’s Cole. Kind of intense, but a good man.”

She gives me a look as Cole spots us and moves in.

“You think someone else is intense? You?”

I let her sassy comment go, but part of me likes the fact she feels like she can joke around with me. The implied intimacy fuels my fiery fantasies, and that’s not a good thing. I again resolve not to give in to temptation. I have to remain focused. Her life may very well depend on it.

I stand up as Cole approaches, and after a moment, Charlotte does too. I clasp hands with him.

“Thanks for coming.”

“I was in the neighborhood, more or less. Is this your client?”

“Yes, it is. Cole, meet Charlotte. Charlotte, meet Cole.”

“Oh, the influencer. I heard the guys at the office talking about you.”

They shake hands and Charlotte grins.

“All good stuff, I hope.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Cole turns to me as I hand him the hotel key.

“I haven't vetted everyone who works here, let alone the guests, but it should be safe enough for a couple of hours.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

He pats his side, where he has a concealed Sig Sauer pistol. Anyone who tries to mess with Charlotte while I’m gone is going to regret it, and damn fast.

“Thanks.”

I turn my gaze on Charlotte, and all of the sudden I don’t know what to say.

“Ah, I’ll be back soon. You’ll be safe with Cole.”

“I know. Hey, Grayson?”

“Yeah?”

Her eyes swim with a sea of troubles.

“Be careful, huh? I…I’d rather you didn’t get killed.”

Cole’s brows arch as he looks between me and Charlotte.

“I’ll be careful.”

It's literally all I can think of to say. I’ve been all around the world, and can speak six different languages, and yet Charlotte makes me feel like a wet behind the ears schoolboy. Shit, I’ve talked plenty of women into my bed. I’m supposed to be good at this.

Is it harder with Charlotte because I actually like her?

I turn away from them and go back outside to the jeep. I try to keep my mind on business, but Charlotte keeps invading my thoughts. Checking the address that Malloy sent me, I program it into the map. Then I trade texts with him.

“Want me to make an intro? This guy is kind of high strung. Paranoid.”

I type back my response.

“No. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. Your funeral.”

I stuff the phone into the drink holder and drive to a run down marina. The sign’s peeling paint proclaims it Neptune’s Rest. I don’t think any god would be caught dead at this place, unless it was a god of misery.

The swollen, uneven dock planks only add to the overall feeling. All the boats have dark windows and signs of disrepair. I can feel eyes on me as I walk along, even though I don’t actually see anyone.

This is the kind of marina where you pay cash and they don’t care if you write John Doe in the guest registry. Not the safest place to be. I’m glad Charlotte is back with Cole watching over her.

For a second, I let my mind be distracted. I wonder if Charlotte is asking Cole about me. It only lasts for a couple of heartbeats, but in that moment I almost miss a vital clue.

The cobalt blue of a gun barrel thrust out from the nearest yacht’s window.

I throw myself behind a corroded mooring post as the first shot rings out.

“If you’re here to kill me, you’ll never take me alive you son of a bitch!”

Unhinged, frantic. Yep, this is one of Malloy’s friends, all right. He never was all that discriminating.

“Carlton LaForge? I’m a friend of Drake Malloy.”

“Bullshit! Tell me something only Malloy would know.”

“Seriously? What if I tortured Malloy for every bit of information that he has?”

I hear the man spit. “Malloy would never break.”

I laugh at that, and it’s more or less sincere.

“Malloy once backed out of a simple stakeout because his corns were hurting him. You could break him by snapping a rubber band on his wrist.”

A long silence, and then laughter.

“Yeah, you know Malloy, all right. You have my permission to come aboard.”

I wait a few seconds then cautiously peer around my protective post. I don’t see the gun barrel any longer, just a beat up boat that looks like it can barely stay afloat.

The gangplank bends to a worrying degree as I tramp up to the deck. The smell of bilgewater and bad weed emanates from every pore of this ship.

A scrawny, shaven headed man in his late fifties appears on the deck as if by magic. I have to keep myself from reaching for my piece, because it will most certainly start a shoot out I don’t want.

“Greetings, Mr. LaForge–”

“Don’t say that name! No names.”

He looks around, eyes wild, as if expecting government surveillance to pop out of the woodwork. I don’t know much about LaForge, but I do know he’s not really important enough for the feds to keep tabs on him. Far be it from me to ruin his fantasy, though.

“As you like it. I need information on the Aegis Order.”

His eyes grow crafty and suspicious.

“All of the sudden, they’re making a lot of noise. Used to be they were just another wannabe hacktivist group with delusions of grandeur. Now they’re making some big, very public moves.”

I nod. “Yes, exactly. I need to know everything you have on them.”

His lips draw back into a sneer.

“Everything I have isn’t free. Ten grand.”

I reach into my back pocket and pull out a wad of hundreds held together with a money clip. I keep cash on me for situations just like this one. It’s hard to resist the sight of cold, hard cash.

I carefully count out what I have, a little over six hundred, and offer it.

“This is all that I have. If it’s not worth your time, I’ll just thank you and be on my way.”

David Copperfield couldn't have made that money disappear any faster.

“All right, the Order started out as a hacktivist group about three years ago. Nothing major. Mostly denial of service attacks on tech companies. You know, flood the website with traffic to try crashing it.”

He snorts with clear derision.

“You ask me, no one really gave a shit about them until three months ago when they pulled something in Florida.”

“What did they do? I hadn’t heard.”

“They targetted this old Hollywood media executive guy, demanding he feature their propaganda or else. He used to be a big deal back in the day, but now he mostly sits on various boards. When the guy ignored them, like literally everyone else has up to this point, the Order responded with a new trick.”

He pauses dramatically before continuing.

“Before, all they did was leak documents and commit DOS attacks, but this time they upped the ante. Somehow, they managed to hack the guy’s pacemaker while he was vacationing in Florida. It only went down for a couple of hours, but that was long enough to cause a fatality.”

My stomach feels like someone dropped a lead weight in it. I had been afraid of this. The Order weren’t just cyberbullies. They were a real threat, and had already caused the death of an individual.

One thing I know about cults from my time in the CIA, they never wind down. They escalate and escalate until they lose their leader or are otherwise stopped…usually by a self destructive act. Images of burning buildings and children trapped inside dance through my head.

Waco. Jonestown. When a cult leader goes down, they usually don’t go down by themselves. I guess they want the company on their way to the great hereafter. I was born after Jonestown, but the mere mention of the name to my CIA trainers would turn them white as a sheet.

People are supposed to protect their kids, and yet they swallowed the poison Kool Aid and then fed it to their offspring. All because some charismatic leader told them it was the holy thing to do. Cults are dangerous because their philosophy is so effusive.

No matter the source of the danger, however, I know one thing. I won’t let anything happen to Charlotte. No matter the cost.

“Do you have anything concrete on them? Someone who might be involved, maybe?”

“No, nothing concrete. I really hadn’t been paying much attention to them before the Florida attack, so I haven't had time to gather much intel. I will say that, in my humble opinion, the Order has secured new financial backing. It would explain how they could upscale their attacks.”

This would be the first time that the Order had targeted a high profile victim like Charlotte. I’m not sure it makes sense. They went from harassing tech companies to threatening an influencer. And not even the most famous or popular influencer, at that.

I feel like there’s a piece of the puzzle I’m missing.

“Thanks. If you hear anything else, get in touch with Malloy, and he’ll pass it on to me. I’ll drop by with some more C notes.”

“You bet.”

The promise of more cash should make Carlton call Malloy, assuming he finds anything new.

I return to the jeep and sit in the marina parking lot for half an hour, sending texts and emails to some of my contacts. I don’t even know if half of them will bother to respond, let alone help, but I’m taking a shotgun blast approach. Something is bound to stick.

Just as I jam the keys into the ignition and put the jeep in gear, Cole calls. I answer quickly, before the first ring is even done.

“What’s up?”

“You need to get back here, fast. There’s a problem with Charlotte.”