CHAPTER TEN

Drake

I felt incredible all day. I was at my desk, reading through a contract between Steelcore and a car manufacturer, when I heard a message-tone.

I held my breath, hoping it was Ainsley. It wasn't.

Hi Drake. We're in big trouble.

I messaged Liam hurriedly, feeling my heart tighten in my chest.

What trouble?

He messaged back almost immediately.

Check the “current interest” page of the Steelcore site.

I did that. I stared. Hacking attempt foiled.

I scanned through the article, feeling nervous. It didn't sound too bad. They had definitely noticed someone was poking about in the database, but it didn't sound like they had any idea who it was or what they might have been searching for. I sighed.

It's okay. Can't know it's us.

I waited for his reply, and when it came my heart sank shockingly.

I don't know if they do or not. Have to wait. They could know.

“Oh, no.”

I closed my eyes, thinking about that. At this time, it was the last thing we needed. I had finally managed to talk up Shane Wesson, the guy in charge of the archives, to letting me have a look in there. If I didn't manage to take advantage of that before the news broke, it would all be worthless.

I'd have spent the last two years working for these people for nothing.

Well, less than nothing, actually, because if they found out that an employee had been involved with some subterfuge then I'd be out of a job, my reputation shot to blazes and likely facing a court-case myself.

Right. Be calm.

Ridiculously, my first thought, in the face of this, was about Ainsley.

If I lose my job, what would she think? I don't want to get her tied up with a guy who's on the wrong end of the law.

I knew better than anyone how illegal it was to be doing what I was doing – leaking information from the company's private files into the public eye – but it had to be done. My good intentions, of exposing corruption and abuse – weren't going to make a blind bit of difference to a judge. I knew that. And if they sued me, there's no way I'd be able to pay.

I rested my head in my hands, wondering what to do next. I messaged Liam.

What can we do about it?

Liam messaged back.

Nothing yet. Apart from waiting.

I closed my eyes. Patience was never my strong suit. If we had no other option but to sit and wait and see whether or not we'd got away okay, I thought I might actually go mad.

I'll come visit tonight, I messaged back.7

Better not. No point linking us.

I nodded. The thought was at once disturbing and comforting. It was disturbing because that meant that, if Liam was discovered, I wasn't supposed to step in and help him. We were meant to keep ourselves distinct so if one of us was caught, the other could keep on. I didn't want to think I could do that to him.

On the other hand, it was a sound idea. If one of us was arrested, at least the other one could continue the work. And there was no reason – besides phone-messages – to be able to link us to each other.

Delete this conversation, huh? I texted.

I did.

I did the same and then leaned back in my chair. My heart was thumping and my head reeling. There was no way I could concentrate on work right now.

“Drake?”

I jumped in my seat and then sat down again as Shane looked at me weirdly.

“Sorry,” I said, flapping a careless hand in his direction. “Just startled.” I paused, getting my breath back. “Whew.”

Shane frowned. “Concentrating hard, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Damn contracts. What can I do for you?”

He chuckled. “Nothing, right now, Drake. Is this the contract you need to see in the archives for?” he asked.

“This one? No,” I said quickly. “The one I need to see in there for was one I was checking yesterday.” I was lying through my teeth, but he wasn't going to know that.

“Oh.” Shane nodded. “Hell. Well, good thing I came by today. Here you go,” he said. He passed me a key. I stared at it.

This was the key to the archives. The one I'd been trying to get a hold of for two years. And now, plain as day, here it was on my hand? It didn't really make sense to me yet.

“Hell, Shane. You sure about that?”

“Of course, Drake. If you can't trust the company lawyer, who can you trust? Eh?”

I tried not to react to the irony. I nodded. “I guess.”

He put his hands in his pockets. “Well, I guess if you're going in there, it's best to do it round now. Old Brackley doesn't like it when people go in there too long.”

I raised a brow and nodded. “I'm only needing to check an agreement drawn up in the eighties,” I said. “Some minor thing. Surely he wouldn't mind?”

Shane shrugged. “Probably not. You know how some guys are, though. Paranoid.” He chuckled.

I joined in the laughter though it felt uncomfortable. In this particular case, the paranoia was justified. I really was going in there to snoop around. I felt bad, since Shane was trusting me and I was about to betray that trust, but what could I do.

“Thanks,” I said again, putting the key in my pocket carefully. I stood and pushed in my chair, following him to the door. “Appreciate it.”

“No worries,” Shane commented. “See you later.”

I checked my watch. “Probably,” I said. “I want to try and get home earlier today, though,” I added. “Been too long since I worked out.”

“Okay,” Shane shrugged. “Whatever. Maybe we can go have a drink or something tomorrow.”

“Sure,” I nodded warmly. “Sounds good.”

When he'd gone I sat back and closed my eyes a moment. I couldn't quite believe it. After almost two years of working here, I was finally in.

I had a fair idea of when the dodgy deals had been made, so it wasn't going to be impossible to find proof of them, but it could take more time than I had. And we were running out of time overall.

I sighed and walked after Shane, heading to the archives. Whatever the odds were stacked against this mission actually working out, I had to try.

When he'd gone, I went straight to the shelf where I thought the files should be. “Somewhere round nineteen-eighty-five,” I murmured. I pulled down one of the folders and then another, looking for anything that looked like it had copies of contracts inside.

I sneezed as the dust tickled my nose and the smell of copier ink – oddly nostalgic – drifted up to my nostrils. I shook my head, sighing.

There were lots of contracts. Contracts with electricity companies, gas providers, truck companies...I was starting to think that I was wasting my time here.

“I'm not going to find it, am I?”

I flipped through the folder and reached up for another one. I was looking for a contract with a mine in Brazil. I knew it must have been signed between eighty-two and eighty-five, because I had talked to guys who had been employed here at that time and they'd said that was when business suddenly took off. As if the company suddenly had half the overheads they had before.

I put the folder I was holding back and reached for another. As I was about to do it, I stopped. Turned back a page. Something caught my eye. A staid-sort of header that would normally not have caught my eye except for the very fact that it was understated.

“Steelcore Inc, with a business address at sixty-third avenue, Miami FL, hitherto known as the client, enter into this Business Contract for the performance of services to be laid out in this Document...”

My eyes scanned down the legal-speak until they fell on a name. “...with the company Blue Vales Mining, business address 3 de Sousa avenue, Rio...”

I almost fell off the chair. I had found it! This was the contract. The one that could be used to prove, without a doubt, whether or not Steelcore was supporting worker exploitation or underage-labor. I felt as if my hands were trembling. I drew out my phone and took a photo of it. Then I sent it to Liam. I put the contract back into the folder, stood and quietly left.

When I got to my office I was shaking. I waited until Liam could confirm he'd received the photo and downloaded it. Then I deleted it off my phone and headed into the coffee-room. I badly needed a coffee.

“Hey, Drake,” Shane called out. He was sitting in a thread of sunlight, a mug of tea held between his hands. “How'd it go? You found what you were looking for?”

“I think so,” I nodded. “And I found a dust allergy I never knew I had,” I added with a laugh, taking out a tissue and blowing my nose.

He chuckled. “Great,” he said. “Long as you didn't find anything more harmful in there, that sounds fine.”

I slit my eyes at him. Was that as sinister as it appeared to be? Or was it really just an innocent comment, a quip about my dust allergy?

“Yeah,” I said neutrally. “What you got in there? Spiders?”

He chuckled. “Wouldn't surprise me, Drake. Great big ones, probably, like the size of a hand...” he trailed off, shuddering. “Hope not. I really hate spiders.”

I laughed and we spent a few minutes discussing the relative merits of hairy and non-hairy spiders, before he stood and, rolling his shoulders, went back to work. I handed him the key.

“Thanks,” he said. “Good to have it back. We don't want all sorts of people snooping around in there, do we?” he added. “Who knows what might get out, hey?”

I stared at him but he'd turned away, already heading from the room. I shivered.

I wonder if I'm playing these people, or if, after all, I'm the one being played?

It was an uncomfortable feeling. All the same, I knew now that we'd found the last piece.

All we needed to do now was to find out about Blue Vales in Brazil. And then get this out into the public domain before it was too late. As it was, it felt like someone was suspecting us. We'd have to be quick.

I went back to my office and tried to focus on the minor legal contract I was supposed to be drawing up. I was having trouble focusing, my mind far away, following trains of thought all its own. I wasn't making much progress and I stretched, yawning, and looked at my watch.

Five-thirty.

I remembered my earlier resolution to have a workout today. I stretched again, rolling my shoulders experimentally. It was no bad idea, actually. I could do with relieving my stress.

I got to my feet and packed my things and headed to my car.

“Bye,” I called to Mrs. Slate, the secretary.

“Goodbye, Drake,” she called coyly. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you.”

I drove away home. Once there I hurriedly changed into my running-gear and jogged down the stairs, heading out to the park. It was a nice evening – cool but not cold, with the sun just starting to sink behind the tree line – and I breathed deeply, enjoying the evening. I was starting to feel rested already as I jogged slowly down the path.

I noticed a woman at the edge of the path, doing stretches with one foot up on the bench. Something about her caught my eye. She had a compact figure, with muscled calves and high breasts. She had fluffy dark-blond hair and, when she turned, big brown eyes.

When I got closer, she stared at me.

“Ainsley,” I said with a big, amazed smile. “What a nice surprise.”