Page 67 of Stars and Scars

“You never answered my–”

I end the call, and glance over at Charlotte. Still ensconced on her phone, she seems lost in her own little world. I take a long, lingering look, remembering the pleasures of last night, and then call Harlowe.

“New phone, who dis?”

“It’s me, Harlowe. Grayson. I understand I missed your call?”

“Yeah, about sixteen hours ago. I got a hit.”

I wait, but she doesn’t elaborate.

“Um, you want to tell me about it, maybe?”

“I was just waiting for you to ask. Okay, are you sitting down?”

“Harlowe, for fuck’s sake, just tell me.”

“Okay, fine. No sense of drama, I see.” I hear her fingers tapping like crazy on the keyboard. “I discovered who sent the ransom demand to Charlotte.”

I sigh and roll my eyes to the heavens.

“We already know who. It’s the Order.”

“Ah, but do you know the IP address, and the name of the man who owns it?”

My heart skips a beat, then hammers heavily in my chest.

“You have a name?”

“Yeah. I’ll create a document file and send the link your way. Ever hear of a man named Stormbringer?”

“Is that the sword that drinks souls from those novels?”

“Hell if I know. Stormbringer is a name that is respected and maybe feared in hacker circles. The guy has been a ghost for decades. No one has ever been able to ID him…until now, that is.”

I try to remain patient when she stops talking again.

“Congratulations. You’re the best hacker in the world, maybe even the galaxy. Happy?”

“Eh, it will do. Stormbringer’s real name is Connor McCloud.”

My phone dings. I get a message from her with his photo attached. A skinny caucasian man with gelled hair, a thin mustache, and deep blue eyes stares back at me. He looks like the kind of guy who spends all his time online. I memorize his features as Harlowe speaks again.

“His ‘real’ social media pages are filled with the kinds of things that would make the Order cream themselves–conspiracy theories, rantings about late-stage capitalism, pretty much a note-for-note ode to the Order’s manifesto.”

My hands are shaking, I’m so amped up. This could be the first step to stopping the Order and ending the threat to Charlotte, forever.

“Outstanding work, Harlowe.”

“Thank you.”

“Does McCloud have an address?”

“Just an LA Post office box. The guy gets around, but I was able to pull some of his phone records and track his movements, before he cut me off.”

“He cut you off?”

“Yeah. I could go into the technical terms for what he did, but you’d just be bored and it would waste both of our time. My point is, I found one place he likes to hang out on a regular basis. Would you like to know where?”

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