Page 27 of Stars and Scars

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.”

7

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