Page 38 of Doubts of the Egoist
Greg shifted from foot to foot, let out a long breath, and reluctantly admitted, “Honestly, that’s all I have at the moment. The seller, buyer, and delivery company were all set up last week. The rest of the drivers are all clean. The Turkish customsofficials who cleared the transit all say the same thing—it’s just agricultural equipment. I think Tobias knows more, but he’s always been stingy with information.”
“Could it be that Tobias is gaining the upper hand? Do you admit he bested you? Should I look for your replacement?”
“Dream on.” Greg grinned.
“Then make sure you have answers next time I ask. Since when has Mio been interested in agriculture?” Yugo’s fingers tapped on his biceps as he stared at the file. “It doesn’t make any sense. With the money Tobias claimed he earned, he doesn’t need to deliver anything himself. Whatever he’s doing, he can’t trust anyone with it. This looks like a cover-up. There’s something in those tractors. Something he couldn’t transport any other way. Greg, what’s going on in Armenia?”
“Nothing, except for a very real agricultural exhibition.”
Yugo’s mouth moved from side to side as he struggled to piece the puzzle together. “I didn’t know Mio could drive a cargo truck with a trailer… Does he even have an HGV license?”
“I think so. Tobias insisted he learn to operate every kind of transportation. Last year, Mio got his private helicopter pilot’s license. This year, they’re training for jets.”
“Impressive…” A corner of Yugo’s mouth curled up as pride swelled in his chest.Tobias was the right choice for Mio, after all. The brat is progressing. Then his expression darkened.I wonder what gave Mio the courage to go against him.“No one disappears without a trace with cargo like this. Find him today. If necessary, send someone to track him down, but don’t approach yet. Have you already hacked his laptop?”
“Yes, he didn’t keep anything important on it. Just someporn. Anything else?”
“Yes, I need a new phone.”
“A burner?” Greg tilted his head to the side.
“No, something nice with geolocation. Don’t forget a prepaid plan.” Greg raised his eyebrows, so Yugo explained, “It’s for Kuon. I hate it when I can’t reach him or don’t know where he is.”
With a clipped nod, Greg turned on his heel and strode out of the room.
His hand flickedthe switch, causing the light to blaze through the narrow room. It purged the darkness and made Kuon flinch back, shielding his eyes with his hand. Tears blurred his surroundings. He waited for a few seconds before lowering his hand, blinking through the searing pain that soon eased.
It was colder here than in the bedroom. The ventilation system hummed, swirling streams of cool air around his feet. A fleeting thought of grabbing a hoodie crossed his mind but faded as he had no intention of loitering.
Focusing, he looked around. Six horizontal monitors were mounted on the metal desk in two rows of three, with two more vertical monitors flanking the sides. All of them glowed, showing real-time footage from every corner of the mansion. Neon lights blinked on the computer tower, but Kuon’s attention was drawn to the matte metal rack at the back of the room and the box with his name on it.
He hesitated. Opening it and discovering its contents would be easy, but he started having second thoughts.
Yugo got all worked up… Was he afraid I’d find something I shouldn’t? What could it be besides bad memories? Or is that exactly it? Was he afraid I’d freak out, and that fragile something between us would shatter if I remembered something he thought I’d forgotten? Was he protecting me? Us?Opening the box felt like hitting rock bottom and putting Yugo’s trust in jeopardy.What do I expect to find? If Yugo freaked out so much, do I really want to know why?He shook his head, rejecting the temptation.I should trust him more. He promised he’d show me the contents. I should give him more time. I’d want him to do the same, to have a little faith in me, if the truth about the SIM card comes out, and when I tell him about Gray. I should at least treat him with the same respect.
With that in mind, Kuon turned to the rows of displays, grabbed a chair, and began scanning the screens to locate the hallway. Keeping it in sight seemed essential if he didn’t want to get caught. His hand let go of the silicone fingerprint and covered the mouse.
The collage of footage stretched across the screens, each window no wider than three inches. Turning his head from side to side, Kuon struggled to find the right angle to bring the image into focus. He didn’t immediately realize what made his heart stutter until his eyes fixed on a patch of seemingly static whiteness.
Kuon squinted, then scoffed, moving the mouse over a tiny screen, enlarging it. The small room which Kuon always associated with maddening white silence and loneliness was still there despite his desperate attempts to pretend it didn’t exist.
Nothing had changed there. Black vertical metal bars guarded the bulletproof window from the outside, and even the damn mattress remained on the floor.
Memories whispered in his ears. Faint and barely there, they grew louder the longer he stared at the whiteness and the glowing sky trapped behind the black metal.
Degrading orders spoken in a cruel tone… Gasps and moans of forced passion… the rumbling of a lonely mind…
He flinched away, trying to free himself from the iron clamps of the vivid flashback. To quiet echoes in his head, he reprimanded, “This is a bad time to be nostalgic, Kuon. Just do what you came here to do. You can think about it later.”
He forced his attention away, examining the backyard, hall, kitchen, and places he’d never visited before. So many rooms teemed with people. A dull throb settled behind his temples. He rubbed between his brows to ease the pain. The mouse pointer finally hovered over the bathroom screen. It took him less than two minutes to locate where the footage was stored. Without looking at the content, he deleted all evidence of his crime and their intimacy. He repeated the process for the hallway and bedroom footage before closing all the windows.
As he reached for the Start menu to securely erase the files, a folder labeled “K” caught his attention. He leaned into the screen. It was the only folder on the black desktop, suggesting Yugo used its contents so often that he didn’t want to waste seconds searching for it every time he needed it.
The cursor drifted, and Kuon double-clicked to open the folder before he realized what he had done. Countless video files with dates instead of titles lined the window. The oldest dated back over two years, beginning in March and ending in the following January. Kuon’s heart sank; the dates were painfully familiar.
As if in a trance, he ran a random file.
BA-DUMP.A mental slap scorched his cheek, making blood rush to his head and forcing him to flinch away. His chair tipped backward; he rocked forward just in time to avoid landing on his ass. With palms slapping against the metal desk, he risked a glance up, hoping he’d hallucinated it.
