Dark Crypto (Thorne Inc. Book 1)

by Neil Mosspark

  Gabriel smirked. “You wouldn’t be able to deal with the bureaucracy. Stick with what you know.”

  “Well, I do know interrogations.” Olivia smiled wide.

  Paperwork in hand, Gabriel sauntered toward the periphery of the cubical farm, leading Olivia through a side door. Only a series of locked doors separated the captured criminals from the machinery trying to imprison them.

  A plain clothed officer walking toward them nodded at Gabriel. “I put Kimura in number six.” The man smiled at Olivia and continued twirling a set of keys on his finger.

  Gabe turned, waving the folder at the man. “Thanks, Chuck!”

  She eyed the tall, muscular man with suspicion as he walked away. “Kimura?”

  “Yeah, the guy's name is Takeo Kimura. He’s got a laundry list of petty crimes on file in Japan. Lots of big stuff that never sticks is on that list too. Worse yet, prosecution says that coordinating an extradition to a country that doesn’t want him back is likely going to be a nightmare. No one wants him.”

  They stepped past the heavy door labeled as interrogation room six, and into the adjacent room. Inside, a camera and a small desk were pointed through a two-way mirror. The dim lights on their side kept them hidden from the tattooed Japanese man handcuffed to the table on the other. His attire had changed from an expensive shirt and pants to an orange jumpsuit and shackles.

  “How do you want to do this?”

  “Well, any questioning has to be on the record. Any answers he gives has to be admissible in court.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “It’s not likely he is going to actually say anything, though.”

  “Regardless, I’ll film the interview. You’re already a consultant on the case. It will be a day in court for you at most, and the bad guy does time.”

  “You know I hate being filmed,” Olivia said.

  “Hey, you wanted to know who he works for. These are our rules. I can’t break them. Guy’s likely going go to prison regardless. But once he’s gone from our holding cells, you won’t be able to finish your contract.”

  “Good point,” she said. “You ready then?”

  Gabe turned the camera on. “Ready.”

  Olivia took a deep breath and left the room. Gabe watched her reappear through the interview room door, on the opposite side of the glass. The Yakuza barely looked up.

  “Hi. My name is Olivia Thorne. I was the contractor who was hired to extract the little girl you kidnapped.” She looked at the glass, making sure the camera caught her face.

  The moment the man heard her voice, he looked up. She could see the look of recognition spread across his face.

  “You punched me in the neck!” The man turned to the window. “This woman punched me in the neck!” He yelled at the mirrored glass.

  Olivia could see the darkening bruise below the man’s ear.

  Gabe stifled a laugh.

  “I did. I will admit that, but you had kidnapped a little girl and were resisting. I had permission from the family to act as their legal extension and protect and recover what was theirs under the Private Security Act. In this country it allows us to keep the peace by use of force. I was there to retrieve what you took. A little girl. Two, in fact. I wanted to know if you might be able to tell us why the Yakuza wants little girls.”

  The man simply stared at her. It was all she needed: his complete devoted attention so that she could watch him.

  “Did you do it for money?”

  The composite of a hundred little details rushed at her brain. The dilation of his pupils, the subtle changes in the follicles of his hair, even the wafting smell of fear evaporating from his sweat told her the truth.

  The answer was yes.

  “So it was for money then.” She pulled out a small notepad from her jacket pocket and jotted down the results of her questions.

  He continued to scowl.

  “The parents said that she was at the playground a few weeks ago. Did you take the girl yourself?”

  He sneered at her, but she could see him thinking. All signs pointed to no.

  “You paid the gang members to do it, didn’t you?”

  He didn’t speak, but she could see him tell her the truth. He began to squirm as she teased the truth out of him. It only took a few questions.

  “Were you working for someone else when you hired them?”

  She could see it on his face plain as day. It didn’t take her special skill to know the truth. He wasn’t working for himself. Once a hired thug, always a hired thug. There was someone giving the Yakuza instructions, she could see it.

  “I guess that’s a yes as well. Did you do the operation to stick that cable into her brain?”

  The man actually cringed. It was so subtle that she might have missed it. He mentally retracted from her, and she could see his eyes flitting to the side as he remembered something. The wafting scent of fear filled her nose.

  “You were there, though. You saw what they did to her.”

  A definitive yes played over his face.

  “Was it a Yakuza who did the surgery?”

  Olivia already figured it was a no, but she wanted to be certain. She wanted to see him tell her. Once again his face denied the suggestion with disgust.

  “Wow. It wasn’t one of you then. Was it someone local?”

  A blank response covered his face. He didn’t know.

  “Not sure, huh. They didn’t tell you who they were?”

  More confirming truth spilled out.

  “They really got you into a bind though, didn’t they? I mean, you’re far from home. I’ll bet you probably did something pretty bad to the Yakuza mob back home. You steal from your own family?”

  A negative response floated through the air as he turned his head away.

  “You didn’t steal. So maybe murder. You kill someone important back home?”

  The stink of fear flowed over him again, confirming her thoughts.

  “You probably had to leave pretty quick. Hard to find a place to live when the family is everywhere. You came here because there were no Yakuza ties, didn’t you?”

  Another yes.

  “I’ll bet if they find you here, they will kill you. You might be safe inside prison, though. At least from the family. I can’t imagine what the inmates will do to you. If there is one thing that I know, child molesters tend to get beat on pretty bad. Lots of crooks have kids. Lots steal to feed their family. Some even murder to protect them. Even common criminals have standards.”

  The man swallowed hard. She could see sweat beginning come to the surface of the skin on his forehead.

  "You touch the little girls at all? Hmm."

  He shook his head. "No. I never did anything like that."

  Relief washed over Olivia. Somewhere there was a family that didn't have to live through the additional damage. Despite the good news, she could feel a headache starting to brew behind her eyes. She had to get this over with before the inevitable migraine started.

  “So it was someone local. You didn’t carve up the kid yourself. You ordered the gang to snatch the kid. Did it have to be this kid specifically? Was the girl special?”

  Another ethereal confirmation of her suspicions came to her. Her hands were shaking. The pain was growing, and her coordination was off. She tucked the notepad away, and giving up on her fine motor skills, she opted to try to remember.

  “So it doesn’t matter who the kid was. Just had to be a kid, I guess. Did it have to be a girl?”

  She could see that it didn’t have to be a girl. It could have been any kid. Any gender.

  “Did you choose her yourself?”

  Another no. A headache was growing, throbbing now.

  “Do you have more kids?”

  Mercifully, the man’s body language answered no as he shifted in his seat.

  “So we found all the kids you had then. What about where they did the procedure. Was it in the same building where we found you?”

  Olivia felt lightheaded as she saw th
e answer on the man’s face. She took a deep breath, and her narrowing vision widened again. She was focusing too hard. The headache was almost on her, bearing down like an avalanche of mind-numbing pain. Medication would come later, but she needed answers now.

  “Someone did the procedure there in the house.” A thought crossed her mind, and suddenly a surge of anger flowed through her. She knew she shouldn’t ask, but the words came out of her mouth. “You saw them do it. Did they use anesthetic when they bored a hole in her skull?”

  Her fists balled up. She could see the man lean back. She didn’t need her gift know that the man had likely watched the girl scream as someone cut into her head.

  Olivia stood quickly, and the chair she sat on fell backward. The room spun. She wanted to push his teeth in, but it was all she could do to stay upright.

  “Are there other boxes? Will there be more experiments?”

  Her vision shrank smaller, and she was breathing deeply now. She barely caught the answer. No. Mercifully, no. There were no other boxes.

  Hands grabbed her gently. She was tempted to pull away and fight, but the visual aura was on her. The crescents of light against a black background accompanied the throbbing pain that was flowing through her now.

  “Wait...”

  The hands paused. She breathed deep and some of her sight came back for a moment, but the pain was still there, causing her to squint against the bright lights of the room. She leaned hard on the table, peering at the tattooed man. “Do you know what the box does?”

  A final negative response could be seen on his face.

  Strong hands pulled her away as her legs gave out underneath her. Only out of blindness and desperation she allowed the hands to guide her out the door and into the sweet darkness of the next room. Her head pounded, and all she wanted to do was lie down on the cold floor.

  They lowered her into a chair instead. The room spun as her shaking hands fumbled to get the wallet from her pocket. It slapped against the floor at her feet. Someone behind the wall of darkness aided her. The nausea was starting. She swallowed bile.

  “The dermal patch. Stick it on my neck.”

  It felt like forever, but gentle hands swept the hair away from her shoulder and applied the patch. The pounding headache clung to her eyes, but after a minute or two and a few sips of cold water, it released its hold on her sight and balance.

  Blinking, she looked up expecting Gabe. Chuck’s blond, blue-eyed face was staring down at her. “You okay?” His soothing tone irritated her.

  “Who the hell are you?” She scowled back at him. “Where’s Gabe?”

  “Here,” Gabe stated, walking through the door, “I was getting you something stronger than cold water. Take these.”

  Olivia barely registered the multicolored pills that rolled into her hand before she popped them back. The pain slowly began to fade. It wasn’t gone completely, but it became manageable. She wanted to know what the pills were but opted not to ask. Anything strong enough to dent her migraines was likely from someone’s prescription. She wondered for a moment why Gabe had such strong painkillers.

  “Good work in there,” Gabe said.

  “He didn’t say anything, though,” Chuck chimed again. His perfect jaw framing an equally perfect smile as she looked at him. She wondered for a moment if he was the result of cosmetic surgery or just perfect genes. Either way, he was looking at her like she was his new best friend. Olivia didn’t like it.

  “He didn’t need to.” Olivia leaned forward and held her head as a rogue wave of nausea washed over her. She spied a trashcan and pulled it over, forcing the bile back down. The pills would do her better inside than out.

  “You need a moment?” Gabe asked.

  Olivia sat up slowly. “Nah. I’m good.”

  Gabe sat down in an adjacent chair. “So it sounds like buddy was working for someone else? It’s not Yakuza?”

  “Yeah. He likely paid the goons we shot...” She looked over at the camera, pointing into the other room. “Is that thing off?”

  “It’s off,” Gabe said.

  “He likely paid the goons we shot to collect the kid. He was working for someone else. Someone hired him as middle management to find kids so they could experiment on them.”

  “It’s not some sort of kiddie sex ring, is it?” Chuck asked.

  Olivia looked up at him. “What?” She looked at Gabriel. “Is this guy for real?”

  “He’s a rookie. I’m training him. Showing him the ropes.”

  “Well, ‘Rookie,' to answer your question, it’s not some sort of pedophile thing. This guy is a thug for hire. My guess is that he organized the capture of the kids. Probably has been doing this for a while.” Olivia paused, looking back at the garbage can.

  “There were other kids, weren’t there.”

  “Yup,” she said, “they were probably doing this for a while. Nabbing kids, hooking them up to that box. Using them up for something. The only reason we stopped them was the goons he hired were using the parents’ fear for their kids. They were scamming extra money and never giving the kids back. They're probably all dead.”

  The sickening feeling in her gut felt worse than the migraine.

  “Who does that to a kid?” Chuck asked, turning to look at the Yakuza. Olivia could hear the naïve kindness in the man’s voice. It only made her nausea worse.

  She stood up, wavering for a moment. Both men reached out to catch her. Olivia scowled at them, and they retreated.

  “I’m going to find out who took these kids, and I’m going to hand them to you on a silver platter.”

  “We don’t have any leads aside from the box and the girl,” Gabe said.

  “The girl wasn’t sedated when they cut her up. She will probably know who did it to her. She will remember something. I’ll interview her. Where’s the box, by the way? Evidence?”

  “The hospital had a specialist come in to remove it from her. They took it away. I’m afraid that we’re not going to get much back from that, though.”

  “Why’s that?” Olivia asked.

  “Neotech has it,” Gabe stated.

  “Who?”

  Chuck piped up. “Neotech is a company that catalogs the tech that is finding its way out of the Quarantine Zone. Any technology that might be alien in nature is funneled to them for analysis. They catalog it for the government and store it so that it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.” Chuck’s eagerness to please was beginning to wear on Olivia’s last nerves.

  “Can you get any info from them on it?”

  “A freedom of information request can be filed,” Chuck said.

  Gabriel chimed in. “It won’t work. They just stuff those things in a box and pile more paperwork on top. You’ll never see a lick of information.”

  “Alright, first things first. I’m going to go talk to the little girl.” Olivia leaned forward and braced herself on the arms of the chair. Her vision had come back, and the drugs she had swallowed were doing a much better job at taking the edge off than she had expected.

  “Take Chuck with you,” Gabriel ordered.

  She looked at him like he had two heads. “What? No!”

  “The girl is a victim in an ongoing investigation. The hospital’s not going to let you get anywhere near her, but lucky for you Chuck is a police officer and has access to the case. He needs to be present when you question our victim.”

  "The family hired me. I have legal access."

  "Not after delivery and contract completion. The hospital isn't going to let you in unless you have a badge or are family."

  “I was just going to lie my way in,” she said.

  Gabriel frowned.

  “I can help. I don't mind,” Chuck stated.

  She thought about it for a moment. The headache and nausea were subsiding, but she didn’t feel like dealing with the rush-hour crowd on public transit. It did simplify the matter. “You have a car?” She shrugged.

  Chuck smiled widely.

  “Fine, let's
go.” Olivia rolled her eyes.

  “Try not to kill him,” Gabe said.

  “No promises,” Olivia snapped back.

  It didn’t take them long to wind through the maze of hallways, past the booking department, and out the back door. The low sun hit Olivia in the face like a brick, and she winced in pain, halting in her tracks.

  Chuck stopped and looked at her but said nothing. He was learning.

  Pulling a pair of sunglasses from her pocket, she slipped them over her eyes. Moving across the parking lot, she realized that she was achingly hungry as well.

  “For the record, I don’t think I am going to invite you to poker night,” he said.

  “What?”

  “That guy didn’t say a word as far as I can tell, and you pulled answers out of him. Gabriel says you can tell what people are thinking.”

  “I don’t play poker, and that’s not how it works.”

  “How does it work?”

  He unlocked the unmarked police car with the remote as they approached.

  “I'm good at reading people. I just see if someone is lying. You’re right, I would destroy you in a poker game, but only if I was asking you what cards you were holding. It’s not fun for me. I get migraines from focusing too hard.”

  “So you’re some sort of psychic?”

  They pulled out into traffic, and Olivia was starting to wish he would shut up.

  “I watch people's faces; I can see their microexpressions. Sometimes I can smell something in their sweat. It tells me if they are having an emotional response. It doesn’t always work. Some people are natural liars.”

  “The Yakuza was a bad dude, and you got answers out of him. He was probably a good liar.”

  “He wasn’t. It’s why he kept his mouth shut.” Olivia was tempted to tell Chuck to keep his own mouth shut, but mercifully the man stopped talking.

  From the time they pulled out into traffic until they got to the hospital, they didn’t say a word. Olivia spent the entire time with the seat reclined and covering her head to keep the light out.

  Only when they eased into the parkade did Chuck start up again. “We’re here.”

  Olivia groaned and sat up. The headache was manageable now, but her hunger hadn’t abated.