Tristan wasn’t exactly expecting a happy homecoming as he made his way back to the giant house that Hart Securities had set up in, but the casual “You’re in a load of shit,” from Hunter didn’t help.
“That’s what I get for hanging out with a ginger,” mumbled Tristan as he walked through the recently empty house.
Hart Securities, his new employer, was run by two people: Scott Hart, a former cop who was too disillusioned to stay with the job and decided he could do better for people on his own, and his hacker girlfriend, Toni Murray. Tristan had no idea why the two weren’t married, considering they seemed practically joined at the hip these days. He liked them both well enough, but he and Toni seemed to have more in common. She was like him. Used to being on the wrong side of right. Used to running from the police, not working with them.
But that didn’t mean he didn’t like Hart. The man was smart, and Tristan respected brains more than just about anything. If he was honest with himself, he did like the whole mission statement thing. It was almost the best of both worlds. He got to do what he did best and help people who needed it. It was a pretty good gig, not that he’d ever admit that to Hart.
And the paycheck didn’t hurt either. Toni and Hart had gotten their money through somewhat nefarious ways. Kind of Robin Hood-y: because they stole from the rich, they were using their massive fortunes to give back. But judging from the state-of-the-art computer system Toni had set up in the living room, and Hart’s vintage Corvette that seemed to have a completely rebuilt engine, they were using some of the funds for themselves. And that was why Tristan liked Hart. He wasn’t just a goody-two-shoes. He also knew how to have fun. Had Tristan ever seen him have fun? No. But Toni convinced him that it did happen every once in a while.
The large McMansion was an empty foreclosure. Toni had scoped it out for them. The tycoon who used to own the place had gone bankrupt after one of his many mistresses had cleared out his accounts and run off to a non-extradition country. Before he could clear up all his dirty deeds, the police had come after him and got him for—what else?—tax fraud. So he was sitting in jail while this house was set to go to auction, the funds going right to the government. For now, it was a perfect base for them. Because it was a foreclosure, there was no paper trail Blackthorne could use to come after them. Also, it was big enough to let all the people involved have space so they didn’t end up killing one another. Tristan desperately wanted space right now, but Hunter was following him around like a lost puppy.
“What the hell, man? I thought you were just supposed to be scoping things out?”
Tristan took a deep breath to keep himself from blurting out the truth to Hunter. “Shit happens,” he said evasively.
“Hart’s not going to be happy.”
“Hart’s never happy,” muttered Tristan.
“I’m not happy either,” said Toni from behind them.
Tristan and Hunter both stopped before they turned to face their tiny boss. Toni wasn’t actually that short. Considering every guy here was well over six feet, she tended to look dwarfed next to all of them. But that didn’t stop her bossy attitude. A well-deserved bossy attitude, considering she technically was the boss. And she didn’t like them to forget that. “Emergency meeting now.” Before waiting for them to respond, she turned and walked away.
Hunter gave Tristan a knowing glance. “I tried to warn you.”
It had been a really fucking hard night, and the last thing Tristan wanted was an army of I told you sos. Toni hadn’t said where her emergency meeting would be, but Tristan and Hunter both knew it would be at her computer room. Now, a normal person might have a computer room in an office or bedroom, but Toni wasn’t normal. She had her setup in the main living room. There was a wall full of monitors, about four or five different desktop stands, an entire stack of laptops, and a few bins’ worth of random electronics. Organization wasn’t her strong suit, but that never seemed to stop her from getting the job done. There wasn’t exactly a lot of seating in the room, so Tristan and Hunter were forced to stand. Toni sat down at her main computer chair, and Hart leaned against the desk next to her. Also in the room was Gage, the other field member of their team. Hunter was the bulkiest of all of them, a fact he never let them forget because his weights were clanging constantly as he did his continuous workouts. Gage and Tristan had a simpler workout routine, focused more on running and less on weights. Tristan liked to consider himself brave, but in ninety percent of cases, running was preferable to physical fighting. In their line of business, the people they fought usually had guns. He didn’t need to bench-press 300 pounds in order to fight a bullet, but running fast sure as hell made a person harder to hit.
Toni didn’t pull any punches. “Do you want to tell me what exactly happened tonight? You were only supposed to be taking a look around. Reporting back how many guards there were. If there were cameras. If it looked shady. How the hell did an entire SWAT team get called?”
“I was doing exactly what you told me to. I was counting cameras and I got caught.”
“Don’t bullshit me,” said Toni. “You were inside the building when you got caught. And why didn't you use your watch to signal that you needed help?”
Because I forgot I had the watch... "If I thought I was in real danger I would've signaled for help. Besides, I was doing what you asked. Sometimes, for reconnaissance, you have to make decisions on your own. I weighed the risk and decided it’d be worthwhile.”
Hart pushed away from the desk and stared Tristan down. “You’re not working alone here. You have an entire team to back you up. If you were going to go inside, we could’ve had eyes and ears on you the entire time. We could’ve been monitoring you. You got taken in there and you were completely on your own. We wouldn’t have been able to get there in time to help.”
“So fucking what? Do I look injured to you? I got out just fine. I didn’t need anybody to get me out.”
“You got lucky,” said Toni. “If that door had been made of anything else, how would you have gotten out?”
“I would’ve figured something out.”
“That’s the beauty of being on a team,” said Toni. “We can help you figure things out. Things that won’t give you a bruised shoulder for a week.”
“I don’t have to listen to this. If you’re so pissed off at me, why don’t you give me a negative evaluation on the next performance review,” he said bitterly. This wasn’t a normal job. He didn’t have to sit here and be berated about his performance when he’d gotten out just fine. And he got all the information he needed about the security inside the Blackthorne building. So technically he’d done his job.
“They’re going to be at least doubling security there,” said Hart. “You’ll have to do a completely different reconnaissance mission once they get all set up, and who knows how long that could take?”
“Fine. I might’ve gotten shit for the cameras and security, but I got something better. I have a name. Damask is the man behind Blackthorne.”
Toni frowned. “That sounds familiar.... I’ve definitely seen that name before. What makes you think he’s behind everything?”
“Because when I was thrown into the closet, there was a girl in there with me.” He was half surprised Toni didn’t know about this, considering she seemed to know everything else. “She said that Damask had been threatening her, and when she came to tell them to back off, that’s when she got stuck in the closet. I guess they thought we were working together.”
Everyone in the room looked just as confused as he’d been. “She was thrown in the closet? Why didn’t they just kill her?” asked Hart.
“All very good questions. When I find Damask, I’ll ask him.”
Toni shook her head. “No. Hell no. You’ve already compromised yourself. They know your face. They probably have pictures of it from the cameras. You can’t go investigating this guy. I’ll have someone else do it.”
“You’re fucking kidding me. You’re benching me?”
Toni rolled her eyes. “Of course we’re not benching you. You’re useful. You’re better at what you do than pretty much anybody else. Why do you think I’m so pissed that you went off script?” Her thumb tapped against her thigh. She seemed to be working through things.
Hart set a hand on her shoulder. “He’s compromised, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be used.”
“I love being talked about as if I’m not here,” muttered Tristan.
Hart frowned but kept his attention focused on Toni. “If they kept the girl alive, it’s probably for a reason. And if they suspect Tristan is working with her, maybe we can use that.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” asked Tristan.
“That means you leave Blackthorne to us,” said Hart. “I want you to find out who the girl is. Figure out why she’s so important to Blackthorne. See if there’s any way we can use her to help us, or if she needs help from us.”
“So what is it?” asked Tristan. “Do you want me to use her, or do you want her to use me?”
Toni smiled. “Well, I guess you’ll have to use your best intuition.”
Great. Because so far, his intuition had gotten him nothing but trouble.