by Chris Kale
She had a large grin on her face as the piercing in her dimple sparkled in the sunlight. Her green eyes were the color of mossy forest, as they showed a hint of fatigue, yet thrill at the prospect of getting to the end of this road they’d been traveling down together.
Freyja entered the car quickly, leaning over and reaching her arms around Thomas, who was caught off-guard but then wrapped his arms around her.
“Thank you,” she said in a soft voice.
He smiled. “Thank you.”
She leaned back into her seat, and her eyes fixed on the coffee. She grabbed it with her free hand, and putting it to her lips, took a deep gulp of it.
“Ah.” She sighed in relief. “Nothing like coffee after almost being killed. How good does it feel to be alive?”
“Pretty good,” he said, shifting the car into gear. “Did they reattach it?”
“Yes,” she said. “I got here as quick as I could. They seemed to do a pretty good job. I told them I cut it off when I was prepping for dinner. I don’t think they believed me, but they helped anyway. They wanted me to stay there at least overnight. But fuck that. I hate hospitals.”
After a short pause, Thomas said, “I didn’t tell them you were there. The cops I mean. I think they believed me. Too much trauma to remember.”
“Thank you,” she said with a wide grin on her face.
He winked. “You ready?”
She nodded.
And just as he was about to hit the gas, his phone rang.
They looked at one another in surprise. Were they being watched?
“It’s probably my boss,” he said, but his eyebrows angled toward each other as he didn’t recognize the number.
“Are you going to answer it?” she asked, her voice soft, yet suspicious.
He hit a button and put the phone to his ear and waited to hear the voice on the other end.
“Mr. Merten,” the voice said, which Thomas didn’t recognize immediately. “We need to have a conversation.”
Thomas looked at Freyja again, her mouth agape.
He covered the microphone of the phone. “It’s Li Wei,” he whispered to her.
“Mr. Wei,” he said, as casually as he could. “Yes, I believe we do. It’s going to have to be later tonight though. Does that work?”
“No. Right now,” Li insisted.
“No, not right now, later tonight.”
“Mr. Merten,” Li snapped. “You will come to me right now, or I will come to you. I heard about your. . . situation, and I need to get some information from you. Don’t forget that the only reason you are here is to help me get back these missing Bitcoins. My entire enterprise is resting on this one thing. There is nothing more important to me than this. Where are you now?”
“Mr. Wei, all due respect, I’m not your employee. I’m an employee of the United States government. I’m not sure what you need from me, but I’m sure it can wait until later. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have something I need to take care of. . .”
“Thomas,” Li said in a deep tone, “I don’t feel as if I’m being clear enough. You and your friend are going to come to BitX right now.”
Thomas’ eyes shot into Freyja’s. “He knows about you,” he whispered. She scowled.
“I can tell by your pause that you don’t want her identity revealed. I’ll be expecting you shortly.” He hung up on the other end.
Thomas sighed. “He’s going to out you if we don’t go there now. Both of us.”
She waved her arm in defiance. “Fuck him. I’m not going to be bullied by that piece of shit. Let’s see if he outs me when we have all the Bitcoin he tried to steal in the first place.”
Thomas grinned and shrugged, hitting the gas. “Good point.”
He gunned it down the same roads he’d taken before, this time though—there was no Niklas at the house, no Freyja bound in the basement, and no gun at his side.
They were soon by the house, but Thomas parked where Freyja pointed him to—behind the house, and past some thick shrubbery and trees. Leaving the car, they both made their way through the foliage as it scratched at Thomas’ skin and shirt. Then it came into view, the small house where they both almost lost their lives. Inside, Freyja’s dried blood still stained the basement floor, bullet holes were still lodged in the upstairs floorboards, and maybe—just maybe—there was a USB drive that they desperately needed.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Wrapped in red police tape, the back door to the house was securely shut and locked. Thomas found no trace of anyone at the house, or around it.
“What do you think?” he asked Freyja, her gaze shooting around the premises as well. He knew that entering the house would be completely illegal, but at least the monster was gone.
Freyja brushed him aside with the back of her hand, driving a lockpick into the door’s keyhole.
“Where did you get that?” he asked, with his eyes wide.
“You didn’t think to bring one?” she asked with a grin. “What were you just going to break the door down with your foot? Do you know how hard that is?”
He laughed. “I didn’t think about it. But yeah, I’d break the door down somehow if I needed.”
She moved the thin metal points in the keyhole with her ear close to it. “Well, let's just get in and out quietly. I don’t want any more attention on me thank you very much.” The latch then popped, and Freyja’s thrilled, green eyes shot up at Thomas. “We’re in.”
“Let’s make this quick,” he said, following her back into the house through the back door.
A musty smell hit Thomas in the face like a thick fog. The interior of the house, for lack of a better term, was a disaster. It was unkempt before, but now, the police or someone else had torn the place apart. Dried, muddy boot prints stained almost every square foot of the floors, the mattress was torn and strewn about. The cellar door was left wide open, and Thomas only wanted to go down there again if absolutely necessary.
“Do you think they found it?” Freyja asked, walking through the room, carefully avoiding the scattered trash on the ground.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Has the Bitcoin moved?”
She pulled out her phone, and after a couple of clicks, said, “No. It hasn’t.”
“Well, if they do have it,” Thomas said, “then they don’t know how to use it.”
“Or there’s another puzzle on the drive,” she said, kicking a dirty, black shirt away with her foot.
“Possible,” he said. “You know, if you were going to hide something like that, do you think it would be in a wall or something?”
“Or down there,” she said, looking at the open basement door.
Thomas walked over to the opened door into the darkness, where the light of the kerosene lamp had been turned off or burnt out. The air that rested down there was cool, yet dense, as if it had an aura of its own, a dark presence. How many other people had died, or almost died down there? He turned and went back, inspecting the upstairs walls. He was looking for something—anything—that may signal a secret compartment.
While he ran his hands against the walls, trying to feel for any creases or recent drywall patches. He walked the perimeter of the room, while noticing that Freyja was walking down the creaky basement stairs. He tensed, and that shiver of adrenaline shot through him, but he had to remind himself that Niklas wasn’t down there anymore. He was surely in holding at a hospital, or in a jail cell somewhere. Thomas moved to the kitchen.
He inspected the refrigerator first, opening it as the white-blue light popped on revealing the last remnants of almost empty condiment jars, two bags of bread with only the heals remaining, and some lunch meat was thrown into the corner of one of the drawers. Running his fingers down the door, checking for any signs, but he decided a refrigerator was probably a bad place to keep a USB drive.
Closing the door, he thought about moving it away from the wall. That would be a good place to hide something, but looking down at his feet, he could tell by the s
cratches on the floor that it had very recently been moved. Thomas moved to the cabinets and started opening each of them. The pale, wooden cabinets were almost completely empty, except for coffee grounds and almost polished off whiskey bottles, with less than a finger in the three of them.
He moved the silverware around, searching behind anything, and he even got on his knees to check the undersides of them—nothing. Pulling the drawers out and placing them on the countertop he looked deep into the cabinet wells—nothing. He sighed.
Having investigated every drawer now, he turned his attention back to the main room, with the torn apart mattress. But then he paused, looking suspiciously back at the kitchen. There was one place that didn’t quite make sense in the construction of the cabinets. In between the corner and the oven was a panel, a panel that would seemingly have nothing behind it.
Thomas went over and knelt, examining the panel. They were almost unnoticeable, but when he was this close, he could see the slightest of scratches on both sides of the panel, and the scratches went behind the panel. Thomas slid his fingernails into where the scratches were and pulled. It took a good amount of effort, but the panel popped free, falling to the floor before his knees. Thomas was now staring at a black leather briefcase with silver hinges.
“Freyja!” he called down to the cellar, and he heard her footsteps shuffling back up the stairs, a strong creak with each step. She made her way back into the upstairs room just in time to see Thomas as he pulled the briefcase out from the hidden compartment and laid it gently down on the countertop.
“Thomas. . .” she said, with her mouth hanging open and her hands clasped together in front of her chest tightly. She walked over to his side as they both stared down at the finely crafted leather container. “Is this it?” He looked up her, with a wild thrill rushing through him. “Open it.”
He looked at the top latches, and there were dials for a passcode to open it. There’s no way it's going to be the right passcode left on it. I’ll have to break it open somehow.
But with a flick of his thumbs, both latches popped open, and Freyja gasped.
“Niklas must have been lazy, or just very confident,” Thomas said. He slowly opened the briefcase as they both leaned it, eagerly and nervously.
The soft, red satin interior was lined with dozens of pockets, and Thomas’ fingers quickly began to feel the exteriors of the pockets.
“Best to not leave any fingerprints,” Freyja said, her hair tickling his neck.
He found something that felt like it could be a drive and slid it out of the top of one of the top-right pockets up from the bottom. It was a rectangular, stainless-steel lighter with a drop of blood on its side. A dread shot into Thomas’ mind, and the revelation of what he’d found was clearly shown by the shock in Freyja’s eyes.
“This is. . .” he gasped. “This is his trophy collection, isn’t it? Niklas was. . . is. . . a serial killer.”
Thomas’ gaze darted around the room, a new worry entering his head. Niklas would certainly kill us if he found us with our hands on his most-prized possession.
“There,” Freyja said, pointing to a pocket in the lower-right. “What’s that one?”
Thomas moved his hand down to the pocket and slid it up from the bottom. Excitement was not the right word for how Thomas felt in that instant. It was more like waiting for that one thing in your life you never could have, and then getting it. It was like the first time you told someone you loved them, and they said the same.
Out of the soft, red satin emerged a rectangular, polished, stainless-steel USB drive.
“It’s a ledger,” Freyja said with a tone of pure excitement. She snatched it quickly from the exposed top of it. She opened out the hinge that covered the micro USB female port on the side, and held it up, inspecting it. “It's a Ledger Nano S.”
“A wallet, right?” he asked, as she twirled it end over end before her. “Could some of the Bitcoin be on there?”
“It's possible,” she said. “But we can’t get into it without another seed phrase, or maybe the same one we’re trying to find. . .”
A familiar sound pinged from behind the back door that was still left ajar. His eyes shot up at the door, just in time to see the barrel of a gun, now cocked and ready to fire. Freyja’s fingers clasped tightly around the drive and held it at her side. Thomas brushed her behind him as the man carrying in the gun entered the room.
Neither of them spoke as their true fear was that Niklas had somehow broken free of custody, recovered, and slithered his way back to his nest. But a slight sense of relief came to him, as it wasn’t Niklas carrying the gun. . . but Soo-Jin Park. Thomas’ shoulders eased as he looked at the strong, stout man wearing square, dark-framed glasses. Soo-Jin looked at Thomas with an inquisitive eye, not saying anything, but he looked surprised. Then his eyes fell to the briefcase, with its top opened, but not revealing its contents to him. . . yet.
“Soo-Jin,” Thomas said, with his hands at his sides with his palms facing out. Freyja tried to hide completely behind him. Soo-Jin continued to hold his gun out at Thomas.
“So,” Soo-Jin said in his mild Korean accent, “you still don’t remember who the other one in the basement was, huh?”
“Listen,” Thomas said, “I was trying to protect her. I need your help in this. . .”
But before Thomas could reason his way out, Soo-Jin was making his way around the counter to them.
“Put your hands behind your back,” he said forcefully, with the gun still aimed at Thomas’ chest. “Both of you. You’re both under arrest.”
“Soo-Jin,” Thomas pleaded. “You can take me, but let the girl go. You don’t know the danger you’re putting her in if you do this.”
“As far as I’m concerned,” Soo-Jin said in a cold tone, “you’re trying to steal the hacked Bitcoin. Now put your hands behind your backs and face the cabinets.”
“Soo-Jin,” Thomas pleaded, “help me, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, but leave her out of this.”
“Nice cast,” Soo-Jin said to Freyja. “Looks like he did a number on you before Thomas came to your rescue, and then you bashed Niklas over the head with that hammer.”
Freyja sighed and put her hands behind her back.
“We’re not trying to steal the Bitcoin,” Thomas said, “but we’re very close to getting it. We just need a little bit more time.”
“We’re going to have plenty of time, where we’re going,” Soo-Jin said.
Thomas was facing the cabinets now, and he heard Soo-Jin holster his gun, then two strong hands grabbed the back of Thomas’ wrists and pulled them tightly together at his back. A pair of handcuffs wrapped around them then. He then cuffed Freyja.
Thomas looked over at Soo-Jin, staring at Freyja’s hands, he then dug his hand into hers, prying the USB drive from her hand, as she lowered her head, letting her hair cover her face.
“Is that it?” he asked himself.
He knows. He’s been looking for it too.
“Embarrassing that my men missed this,” he said. “But I’ll be the first to say thank you. Now let's get going.”
With a strong push in the back, he shoved Thomas toward the back door. Freyja followed as she began to cry. Soo-Jin tossed the USB drive into the suitcase, shut it forcefully, and carried it out with him as they left the house.
Thomas continued to plead with him to let Freyja go, but Soo-Jin was now shut down to all his pleas. After all, Thomas knew he carried no favor with Soo-Jin now. He’d been busted in a flat-out lie. Why would Soo-Jin do anything to help him now? Maybe he should have told the truth, or maybe not. All he wanted to do was protect Freyja, and as Soo-Jin moved them into the back seat of his car, all Thomas could think was; that’s it. . . I’ve sentenced Freyja to death because I messed up. They’re going to kill her, and it’s all my fault.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Bound in the back of Soo-Jin’s car, Freyja sobbed behind her long hair that fell like a veil over her face.
> “I’m sorry,” Thomas said, his hands trapped behind his back.
“So why didn’t you just tell me the truth before?” Soo-Jin asked as he raced down the road back toward Seoul. “What were you trying to protect her from? Niklas is in custody. He’s not going anywhere. You’re both safe from him now.”
“If I tell you the truth will you let us go?” Thomas asked. “We’re not the bad guys here. I’m just doing my job.”
“Well, it’s not going to hurt your chances.” Soo-Jin glared back at Thomas through the rearview mirror.
Thomas took a deep breath, and Freyja looked up at him through the broken, wavy lines in her faded black hair. “She’s wanted by powerful people. If it gets out that she’s here, they may come after her. That’s why I’m asking you not to do this, she’s in danger.”
“OK,” Soo-Jin said. “I believe you. She’s in danger from what?” Thomas looked over at her, and her head sunk. “What did you do?” Soo-Jin asked her through the mirror.
“I’m wanted online,” she said softly. “There’s a reward for my identity. I don’t do anything bad, but sometimes to do good, I have to break international law just a little bit. . .”
“How much is the reward?” he asked without hesitation. That caught Thomas off guard.
“Ten thousand Ethereum,” she said.
“That’s not too bad,” Soo-Jin said, nodding his head. “That’s going to be a lot of money someday.”
“So, will you let us go?” she asked, her voice soft and sad.
“I’ll think about it,” he said. Then after a long pause, he asked, “How did you know where to find the ledger wallet?”
She sighed. “Thomas found that the long address pointed to a geographical location—Bob June’s place.”
Then Soo-Jin growled. “Really? That’s it? So that’s why you went to Niklas’ in the first place. You’re good, I’ll give you that. It's not exactly legal to track someone’s cell phone either. I’m guessing that’s how you found where he was staying.”
