Page 5 of Red Hunt

“Hey,” I replied, keeping my voice neutral while I focused my eyes firmly on the store I’d parked in front of.

“Just wanted to let you know we followed the lead you guys sent us a couple of months ago. We’ve identified the admins and are shutting it down as we speak.”

“Great.”

He hesitated.

Matt never hesitated. He was a self-assured SOB. A bit too full of himself, if anyone asked me, but he was solid, so his hesitation caused the hair on my arms to stand up.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“There was another anonymous source providing us with key intel which led to this breakthrough. Logs, names, everything.”

I rubbed my neck, then tried to stretch my back while mulling over his words in my head. My brain felt slower than usual. Maybe driving all the way to Moon Lake hadn’t been my brightest idea.

“There was?”

“Yep, we tried to trace where the tip came from, but they’re good.” Matt’s chuckle turned into a hack. Should’ve quit smoking a long time ago. “They call themselves Regneva…which, you know…not very original.”

What the hell did he mean? Even though nowadays I spent a lot of my time in the virtual world, I was still not fluent in geek. Probably never would be.

“How so?”

“It’s Avenger spelled backward, which is a bit of a cliche…but they’re good. Surprisingly good and very much flying under the radar. They are on the hunt just like SOG. Their goals and MO seem very similar to your team’s.”

Did they, now? Hunting criminals online was just a side project my team conducted. Our main objective was to save kids and women from being trafficked. But more often than not, those sites were the traveling grounds for those sick bastards.

“Just thought I’d keep you in the loop.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Stay sharp.”

The line went dead with a click. I was getting used to calls like these. No names, no beating around the bush. Short, to the point, always through a secure line, keeping us in the loop. Reporting on small wins.

Though shutting down forums and sites on the Darknet wasn’t really making a difference. Ultimately, they’d just regroup, build another platform to gather and keep doing what they were doing, feeding their sick behaviors, circling sick videos, and making a profit off of it.

Regneva.

Another virtual fighting squad? Or the one that we’d just joined? Would the Greyhounds use another name publicly? Probably, if they were smart.

I grabbed my notebook and opened the folder with my saved conversation protocols.

My eyes automatically found the one named radical_angel. Our conversations had been short, easy banter. Just a newbie asking advice, getting the lay on the land, finding his position in the group. But she was something else. Sassy but kind. Everybody in the group held a deep affection for her, rallied around her. Even I felt the draw. What a strange thing.

We didn’t know if the Greyhounds were any good, hadn’t had time to find out.

Regneva—Avenger.

If Matt couldn’t trace them, they might at least be half-decent in what they were doing…and luckily, helping the good guys. Always good to know we have allies. Because when those sick bastards regrouped, we needed to get there and fight them again. Like cutting off one head of a hydra, only to have it replaced by another…and another.

I closed the lid on my laptop and my thoughts. Got out of the car and entered the little convenience store.

I grabbed a bag of carrots, two bags of chips, and a couple of bottles of water. I hated junk food, and I was desperate for a home-cooked meal. Hopefully, the kitchen was in good enough shape so I could cook up some decent food.

I got in line to pay just in time to witness the old lady in front of me not being able to afford the meager groceries she’d picked. She didn’t make a fuss or anything, just sighed, bowed her head, avoided all eye contact, and shuffled out of the store with only a loaf of bread in her hand. The burning pain that hit me in the back of my throat was too familiar, and I clenched my jaw.

The woman had looked worn out, maybe in her seventies, her hair, and clothes dirty. I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed a couple candy bars and snacks, anything within reach, and put them down at the counter, then grabbed the rest of her groceries, which the clerk had put to the side, and added them to the pile. “Please, ring it all up.”

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