Page 23 of Vicious Hearts

I throw my head back and roar with laughter. She’s snappy and irritated, and doesn’t like not having answers; that, I believe, comes from her inquisitive nature as a journalist. But she just has to deal with not knowing; not everyone wants their lives playing out in front of the whole world. When I tell her this, she gives me an unconvincing look and reminds me that she’s here for a story, so of course she’s going to ask questions.

“Attila isn’t part of that story,” I tell her, the hard edge in my tone telling her not to play with fire. There’s only one person who appreciates his privacy more than I do, and that’s Attila.

“So what did you want to talk about earlier?” I ask her.

“I’ve finished the article,” she tells me. “If there’s anything you want to add, now would be the time.”

19

ARIADNE

I’ve always known I wanted to be a writer. Ever since I was a little girl. And I’ve always been a bit of a dreamer. I chose to be a journalist over a full-time writer because… well… writing doesn’t exactly pay the bills. Still, I love my job as a journalist, and I wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.

This story that fell in my lap – or should I say the story my boss foisted upon me when he tried to punish me for my underwhelming performance – has been one of the more interesting I’ve ever done. It’s right up my alley and I almost don’t want it to end. In fact, I now have a silly urge to seek out mysteriously powerful businessmen just so I can write about them instead of the silly political stories I’ve been forced to write for the past four years at Hinky’s insistence. I feel like my real talent has been wasted, and now I’ve found my niche.

When Caleph hands me the envelope, my fingers literally shake with anticipation as I withdraw a stack of photos and flip through them, one by one. There’s no doubt who’s in the pictures – four years of writing about boring politicians means I know each and every one of them like the back of my hand.

Caleph watches me as I go through the photos without saying anything, waiting for me to piece together the puzzle on my own. Every picture is date and time stamped, so it’s not hard to put together the timeline. I spread the photos out on the table, move them around until I have three lines of snapshots that tell me a story far more sinister than the one the FBI has the world believing.

“What I don’t understand,” I say, without looking up. “Is how they convinced the FBI and Interpol that you were selling arms to terrorist organizations and rogue military groups?”

“You have five government officials telling the same story and a ghost you know nothing about… who are you going to believe?”

The fact that the government let this happen based on speculation is in itself a massive problem underlining the power of corrupt government officials.

“I’ll need these photos, Caleph.”

I look up at him, expecting some resistance, but there is none. He reaches into his pocket and retrieves a USB and hands it to me. I turn it over in my hand; it feels heavy and burdensome, its secrets drilling a hole through my palm.

“They’re yours. They’re backed up on the USB along with the voice recordings of the meetings.”

“You understand this has become so much bigger than just an exposé on you, right? So much bigger. This is explosive, Caleph.”

* * *

I turnmy article into a two-part series. It’s the only way it will work. It seems ridiculous to put Caleph in an article destined to topple a government, and the corrupt officials don’t exactly marry up with his interests. So, I weave the stories into two in a way that sits right and gives us maximum exposure. I’d like to say it will also do amazing things for my career, but that’s the last thing on my mind as I try to link the two stories while keeping them separate.

Both articles will run on the same day; this will ensure that Caleph’s name will fade into obscurity the way he set out to do when he kidnapped me. I don’t mind helping him out with that, since I’m getting the scoop of a lifetime out of the whole shebang.

Old Hinky has a lot of questions when I get back, most of which I gloss over quickly while I try to keep him at bay and tell him I’ll have something he can run with in a few hours for the morning paper.

“Oh, and Mr Hinkelbaum?” I say, quite innocently. If my next comment doesn’t outright kill him, it will at least cause a hernia. And I’ll be expecting a substantial raise.

“You should probably printat leasttwice the usual number of papers. You’re going to need them.”

DANCE WITH THE TITAN:An interview with Caleph “King” Rojas

Much isnotwritten about enigmatic businessman Caleph “King” Rojas. He has been, for many years, a mysterious business mogul sitting on the sidelines looking in. But as with all enigmas, rumor and innuendo are not in short form. Humans, by nature, have an inherent need to make sense of things they do not understand.

After my article last week, Caleph Rojas called me to set the record straight. He agreed to an interview – the first he has ever given – and a candid look at the man behind the myth.

Who is Caleph “King” Rojas?

THE MAN BEHINDTHE MYTH

His appearance exudes power and success. He dresses well in tailored suits and has a commanding presence as he steps into the room. Despite his accomplishments in the business world, he does not exhibit any of the boastfulness usually attributed to successful businessmen, and his laugh makes a rare but welcome appearance during the interview.

Folding one ankle over his knee, he gives me a rare glimpse into a man that most people have long considered a “ghost”. Charismatic and personable, he offers a breath of fresh air in a rapidly changing cut-throat industry. As Founder and CEO of Titan Industries, Rojas personifies grace, humility, and humanity.

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