Page 11 of Sypher

Shame gasped. “No fucking way. What’s the time parameter?”

“Every hour.”

“Wow.” Shame grinned, stepping further into the room. “So, is it a set algorithm or set on a timer?”

“Not sure.” I shrugged. “He created it his freshman year. Pissed off all his teachers when he wouldn’t tell them how he did it.”

“Montana,” Shame began. “Pippen and I could work for years to crack that code and never get close to discovering what it is. Your best bet is to get Sypher to unlock it himself.”

“Little shit is in the mailroom, where he is staying until hell freezes over. Just fucking figure it out,” the irate man said, storming off and leaving me alone with Shame.

Taking Sypher’s computer out of his backpack, I laid it on the table as Shame stood beside me, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes glued to the computer like it was the Holy fucking Grail.

In a way it was.

“Go ahead, kid. Open it.”

Shaking my head, I stepped back. “You open it.”

The hour was late when I exited my small office, and despite hours of work, Sypher’s computer remained a frustrating enigma, its secrets hidden just as well as when Montana had initially given it to me.

I shook my head in disbelief and found myself struggling to comprehend several perplexing aspects of the situation. Like, why would Montana have Sypher in the mailroom? More importantly, why would Ghost allow it? Born Golden, Sypher would receive his cut after he graduated college. And that was another thing. Montana didn’t have jurisdiction over Sypher because he was still in school. Kids were strictly off-limits.

Well, that’s what Danny told me.

It wasn’t like he was a patched brother.

Lost in thought while trying to solve the problem, I failed to notice my surroundings, causing me to bump into Payne, who glared at me in response to my clumsiness.

“Problem, Prospect?”

“No, sir.” I gulped.

“Not a sir, Prospect.”

“Yes, sir.”

Groaning, Payne just shook his head and walked around me.

Turning, I asked, “Payne, can I ask you something?”

“What?” the club enforcer growled.

“Are biker rules regarding kids the same across the board, or are they different for each club?”

“Depends. How old is the kid?”

“Uh, twenty-three, but still in school.”

“Biker Federation rules state, regardless of age, if the kid is still in school, they are untouchable. Why?”

“But Montana has Sypher in the mailroom.”

“Because he’s a special case.”

“Why?”

“You always ask so many questions, Prospect?”

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