from the field. Their offices are closed, their accounts empty, and many
of them are either in jail or missing.” The way he said “missing” made
Sacco think that Isaiah knew exactly where they were, probably because
he’d had them buried. Or maybe not. Hard to know for sure. “We do
not believe that there is any way that they could have the financial or
political pull to be bringing such concerted pressure to bear.”
“OK,” said Chloe. “I’ll take your word on all of that. But what makes
you think there is anyone exerting pull at all? Couldn’t this just be the
feds’ natural reaction to all the shit we stirred up?”
“That no longer seems likely. While the various law enforcement
agencies might well be interested on their own, the level of coordination
they’re displaying indicates some sort of prime mover. So we looked into
it. Using some of our labor contacts who ended up being dragooned
into helping the feds, we put out some feelers. Several different sources
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confirmed it for us. There is significant pressure coming down from on
high. Someone is calling in favors, demanding fast results, and pushing
the attack.”
“Any idea who?”
“No, other than that they seem to have Washington connections
across many federal agencies.”
“So you think it’s someone from our end,” said Chloe. “Clover or
Wolverton.”
“That seems the most logical conclusion.”
“We agree,” said Chloe, much to Sacco’s surprise. “Paul’s been going
over these events too, and it’s obvious someone’s behind these setbacks.
The question is, do we really care? Can we just ride it out under the
radar?”
“Paul is nowhere near under the radar right now,” Isaiah said, voice
low and flat. “He’s dangerously exposed and it makes us nervous.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Chloe insisted. “We can handle it.”
“I see no evidence of that.”
“Paul’s handling it very well,” Sacco put in. Isaiah’s tone was wor-
rying him. “He’s keeping out of sight and we’re watching things close.
Nothing’s in danger of coming back on us. This guy, this hacker Oliver,
he just made some lucky guesses is all. There’s nowhere left for him to
run with it. Chloe’s right, it’s not a huge deal.”
“We’ll see. And until we see, this has to be our last interaction. There
is just too much chaos and unpredictability surrounding your Crew.
Until you figure out who’s behind this new pressure and how to stop
or avoid them, we’re not interested. We need to seal ourselves off from
you completely.”
“I get that,” said Chloe. “But it seems like we’d get to the bottom of
things if we pooled our resources.”
“As I’m trying to make clear, our resource pool is no longer at your
disposal.”
“You’re just giving us the heave ho?” asked Sacco. “That doesn’t make
any sense. We’re in this together, yeah?”
“No, we’re not. I’ve taken losses in the past few days, some of them
irreplaceable. I am done taking losses on your behalf, it is as simple as
that.”
“What about when we do solve it? What then?” Sacco asked. “What
if we need your help solving the problem.”
“You need to learn to solve problems without us.”
“Yeah, but what if you can’t solve the problem without us, huh? I
mean, we find this problem guy or group or whatever, and maybe we
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175
can get out from under them and maybe doing that means throwing
them you. What do you think of that plan?” Sacco knew he was letting
his anger get the better of him, but he also knew he was right. They
had started this together. Not finishing it together was fucking lame-ass
bullshit. He did have the good sense not to say that aloud though.
“We’ll all do what we have to do,” said Isaiah, standing up.
“This line of communication will remain open though, right?” Chloe
asked.
Isaiah started to shake his head no but then stopped mid shake. “Yes,
alright. This one path, although on my end there will added layers of
security so messages may take longer to arrive.”
“Same on our end,” said Chloe. “If you need us.”
“We won’t.”
“If you do though. You’ll know how to find us.”
“Which is, I think, the root of your problems,” Isaiah said, walking
away from them.
“Well, he was kind of a dick,” Sacco said as they wove their way through
Boca Raton, making sure no one was following them. Sacco’d already
used Bee’s gadget to check and make sure there weren’t any bugs or
tracking devices on the borrowed car.
“He’s a dick, but he’s not wrong,” Chloe said.
“I hope I wasn’t out of line with him.”
“No, you were fine. Said what I was thinking, which was nice, so I
got to come off as the cool and collected one for once. Kinda why I
brought you along.”
Sacco suddenly felt slightly used. “You could’ve told me the play,” he
said, trying to keep the resentment out of his voice.
“It wasn’t a play. It was just you being you so I didn’t have to be me.
You made him think twice and we kept our connection to him open,
at least a little bit.”
“And why aren’t we saying ‘screw you’ right back at him?”
“Because, well, he’s big and strong and helpful.”
“Sounds like you’ve got a crush on him.”
“I mean his Crew, dumbass.”
“I know, I know. Just teasing. Shit. So now we figure out who’s behind
all the political pressure?”
“That’s the plan. Paul should be working away on it right now with
c1sman and Mr. Data.”
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“Assuming he’s come out of his funk.”
“He’s not in a funk,” said Chloe, and Sacco detected more than a little
defensiveness in her tone. “He’s just pissed off. Wouldn’t you be?”
“I dunno. I don’t know that’d I’d really care, or mind. It’s certainly
doing wonders for his rep.”
“Reputations suck, at least if they’re public ones and they’re for being
a criminal. It’s going to make things harder for us.”
“For you and Paul?”
“For all of us. It’s just going to be a pain in the ass. So you’re going
to have to step up, Sacco. You up to that? We need you to step up now,
you and c1sman both probably. Paul can’t be doing any of the face to
face shit anymore.”
“Seems like he’s better at the behind the scenes and planning side
anyway.”
“He is, but that’s only because he’s so damn good at that side. He’s
great on the face stuff too. Believe it.”
Sacco nodded and they rode in silence for a while. The truth was,
although he’d never admit it to anyone else, Paul kind of scared him.
Yeah, Sandee could physically beat the shit out of him and most people,
and, yeah, Chloe was a tough, ruthless badass when she needed (or just
wanted) to be. But Paul had that brooding anger thing going on. Even
before this latest round of bullshit came on, he’d always had this quiet,
simmering something that threw Sacco off. Maybe it was just the way
he sometimes looked right through Sacco, or the way he could finish
a sentence and sum up what you were thinking before you’d even fig-
ured it out yourself. Maybe it was just the fact that Chloe was so into
him, so respectful of him that you just knew there were hidden depths
there. Even after that night at The Party where he saw a whole helluva
lot of Paul, he didn’t feel he knew much more about what made the
guy tick.
Whatever. It was what it was. Sacco tried to concentrate on the prob-
lem at hand. How to figure out who was behind the attacks on his
friends and contacts? And assuming they did find out, what the hell
could they do about it? Especially when compared to what the fucking
feds could do to them, nothing much came to mind. But he was confi-
dent something would come to him. This was what it was all about after
all, fighting the fucking Man. And as clichéd as that sounded, it was the
truth—it was why he’d gotten into this life with these scary, wonderful,
sexy people. He wasn’t going to pass up the chance to hit back.
This wasn’t a party anymore.
Sandee had never gotten into the… the whatever the hell it was
you called his life now… for the money. Or the politics. And certainly
not for the crime. It was for the fun, for the thrills, for Chloe and Paul.
He’d met them their first week in Key West (he didn’t even know they
had a roomie named Bee for two months), and the three of them had
got on like hot and bothered. What had been crimes for them started
out as larks for him. Trick some poor suckers into believing ghosts
were real? What a laugh! Foist off fake treasure maps on some cigar-
chomping rube from New Jersey? The joke’s on him! Set up free hous-
ing in empty guest houses for his friends? That wasn’t stealing, it was
just doing the right thing. And start a party that never ends? A private,
exclusive roaming house party where drugs and sex and gambling were
not just allowed but encouraged? He’d been breaking all those laws
since he was fourteen. Weren’t none of that a thug-life style life of crime.
That was just getting by in proper Key West Conch Style.
When things started to get heavy, first with that woman getting mur-
dered last year and then with everything that followed, Sandee found
himself swept up in it with the rest of them. Sure it was serious, but
man, oh, man was it thrilling. The close calls? They only made it more
interesting, especially since Chloe and Paul always managed to think
their way clear of any problem. And when the traveling started, going
off to other cities and pretending to be tough, smart, sexy women for an
audience of pussy-hungry nerds, well, that was like Fantasy Fest taken
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to a whole new, weird level. He hadn’t traveled much, nowhere really,
beyond Miami and one trip to New York. A couple cruises around the
Caribbean. But now he had fake ID’s and James Bond gadgets and
gullible, googly-eyed men who didn’t doubt he was a she for even a
moment. It had been grand.
Then there’d been the whole stupid fucking Oliver fiasco, and now
The Party was literally over. He watched on the screen in Bee’s sanc-
tum as cops and strange men with FBI on the back of their jackets
came storming through the Crawford House and started pulling apart
everything. Not that there was much to find. The guests were all gone,
the once never-ending Party stalled out a couple days back when every-
one else in the Crew became obsessed with bigger problems. Sandee’d
meant to go back and get the other cameras today at some point, but
it was such a chore to do it by himself that he’d been waiting for Bee
to come with. A few hours later and they’d have been on those screens,
with those nasty, brutish thugs and probably under arrest. He watched
as they kicked down another door. They had guns drawn.
“Omigod,” said Bee again. “Oh, oh… oh shit.”
“Call Paul.”
“OK,” said Bee, reaching for a phone.
“I’ll do it,” said Sandee, putting a hand on hers. “PAUL! GET IN
HERE!” he shouted down the stairs.
You didn’t need to tell him twice, especially as high strung as he
was. He heard Paul’s steps come thundering up the stairs, taking them
two at a time from the sound of it. He fairly slammed into the wall
at the top, caroming off and stumbling into Bee’s room. “What is it?
Chloe?”
Sandee just pointed at the screen and watched awareness and then
horror creep across Paul’s features. The boy didn’t need deeper worry
lines, but he was getting them. To his enormous credit, Paul didn’t
panic, which Sandee thanked God for, because he was pretty close to
peeing himself in terror. But Paul’s show of strength kept his rising
alarm and bladder in check. “We have to get out of here right now.”
“They’re across town,” Sandee pointed out, wincing at how silly it
sounded.
“This town is only a mile wide,” Paul said. “If they’re there, they’re
coming here. They can trace us through those cameras, right, Bee?”
“Maybe not…” Bee said. “It’s wireless and there’s the blind.”
“Nope. Not good enough. This is it, we’re done here.”
“Done?” asked Bee clearly wondering if done meant what both she
and Sandee thought it meant.
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179
“Bye-bye. We’re bugging out. I’ll call Chloe and Sacco. You start
hitting those kill switches.”
“Oh…” said Bee. “Should I warn c1sman?”
Paul, who was almost out the door already, stopped, his back to them
as he thought for a minute. “No. Not yet. We’ll update him when we’re
gone. Right now we gotta go. Go!” He rushed downstairs and Chloe
heard him yanking the door open to his room.
“Sandee, can you help me?” Bee asked, sounding small and far
away.
“Sure, hon, what do you need?”
“My drill.”
Bee’s realm was always the part of the Party that Sandee understood the
least. Not that he was computer illiterate by any means, but that didn’t
mean he understood how the things worked on the inside. And as for
the electronics stuff—the wires and cameras and circuit boards—he’d
just never paid any of that much mind at all. That was Bee’s thing.