by D. N. Leo
“Do you know who the LeBlancs are?”
“Yes, the richest and most mysterious family on Earth. What’s your point?” Orla sipped her coffee.
“I know your client said we don’t have to deal with the kidnap and ransom, but we practically have to kidnap Jo from the kidnapper. That’s worse. You haven’t done this kind of job before. It’s bad enough that we don’t know Zen and what he’s capable of. But when it comes to the LeBlancs, nobody knows anything.”
“Rumor has it they can make gold. That’s why they’re so rich.” Orla chuckled.
“Yes. Also the head of the family, Ciaran LeBlanc, he can make gold from his spit.”
“Ew.” Orla pulled a face.
“Seriously, Orla. The LeBlancs are powerful. They might be into human trafficking, drugs, or whatever. They’re so powerful that they can buy out the media.”
“How do you know they bought the media?”
“There’s not a whiff of info about them in the media or on the Internet. What kind of money can buy that degree of silence? Even the US’s top secrets have been leaked. Have you ever seen a picture of any of the LeBlanc family members?”
Orla rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I think I saw a picture of the younger brother. Was that Tadgh LeBlanc? The picture was snapped when he traveled to Australia, I think. The LeBlancs don’t blend well. Very tall, gorgeous dark hair, very fair skin, and striking eyes.”
Lorcan narrowed his eyes. “I get the picture. You don’t need to elaborate. If the kidnap and ransom has anything to do with them, it can’t be good . . . and . . . before you say it . . . two million or even six million is not worth the risk… I’m serious.”
They heard a signal from Madeline’s phone, her voice came across.
“If you let me talk to Jo, we could figure something out.”
“You want to talk to her? Okay,” a male voice said.
Silence.
Static came through the recording device.
Lorcan said, “I think he’s switching on a video call, we are now capturing both voices through her speakers.”
“The guy must be Zen,” Orlar said.
Lorcan nodded and gestured for silence.
“Do you see her now? Talk away. You girls can figure things out, right?”
“You hurt her, you bastard. You told me you wouldn’t hurt her if I found your stupid avatar!” Madeline roared.
“But you found nothing!” the man screamed.
“He didn’t hurt me, Madeline. I tried to run and fell down the stairs. Should have taken my stupid heels off.”
Jo’s voice sounded weak.
“You sure you’re okay?” Madeline said.
“I’m fine. You take care of yourself, Madeline.”
“I can’t get the blue dots to work, Jo. Can you tell me what the game is about? What am I looking for?”
Jo was about to say something, but it sounded as if she was yanked her off the phone.
The man spoke, “All you have to do is to find out who plays with Jo using the name White Knight. You’ve seen the game—and the player. You should be able to tell who the guy is in real life. I told you he works for the LeBlancs and has been playing from that building. You don’t have to go in. Just wait him out.”
“Do you understand that LeBlanc Pharmaceuticals is a global company that employs millions of people?”
“But I gave you the precise location!”
“I told you, it’s like a military barrack. I used my journalist credentials to ask for an interview with their PR department . . .”
“And?”
“The waiting list is a month.”
“I don’t have a month. I give you three days.”
“It’s not possible . . .”
“I don’t give a shit. If I don’t get this done in time, I’ll be dead. But I’m not going down alone. I can guarantee you that. I’ll send you more info as soon as I have it. But three days is all the time you’ve got.”
The man hung up.
They heard Madeline sob.
Lorcan sipped his coffee and said nothing. Orla knew he was reconsidering what he had said before. She got off the bed to get dress and leave him time to think. When she came back to the bedroom, Lorcan had a grin on his face. She winked at him.
“Got something to tell me?” she asked.
“I think I’ll lend Madeline a helping hand.”
Orla laughed. “I knew you couldn’t help yourself when it came to the LeBlancs’ computing system.”
“Madeline seems to be a good person. Coming all this way to save her friend. I just want to help.”
Orla rolled her eyes. “Aha . . .”
“Okay . . . plus hacking the LeBlancs’ system is every computer nerd’s wildest dream.”
“So you’re no longer worried about them trafficking humans or dealing drugs?”
“It’s obvious that this deal was about computer games and technology. So . . . I’m interested. It’s impossible to hack the LeBlanc’s system. But if Madeline could get inside their headquarters physically, that would be something. The LeBlanc’s residential addresses are unknown. There’s no information about them anywhere. Their headquarters are guarded like military barracks.”
“Why would you want to hack the LeBlanc’s system? Wouldn’t it be more challenging to stalk MI5, MI6, the Pentagon, or the FBI?”
“It would be more challenging. But hacking a government-related agency will only give me more information about what I don’t want to know. Scandal. Propaganda. Politics. Wars. You name it. You could take what you see in the movies or on TV, multiply that by ten, and you’d get what’s in the government databases. Sometimes, I don’t know which one is real and which one is fantasy. No need to hack for that kind of info. But the LeBlancs . . . hmmm.” Lorcan’s eyes sparked with curiosity.
“They’re aliens?”
Lorcan laughed. “Maybe. They could be vampires, witches, sorcerers, werewolves . . .”
“Don’t mention those supernatural creatures.”
Lorcan raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were into the paranormal. You read those books.”
“Books are fantasy. The LeBlancs are real. Let’s not joke about it, okay?”
Lorcan nodded. “How about aliens? Am I allowed to mention aliens?”
Orla threw a cushion at Lorcan. “Get to work if you want to help Madeline from the goodness of your heart.”
Lorcan chuckled and turned to his computer. “I’ll just let Madeline know where she may be able to find the LeBlancs,” He muttered.
“You said that information wasn’t available.”
Lorcan nodded. “Not available to ordinary people.” He winked. “I’m no ordinary hacker. You should know that.”
“What? You can hack their system? You know where they live?”
Lorcan grinned. “No, I don’t know where they live, and I can’t hack their system. But I can certainly hack the logistic control system of their guards and assistants. All of the mundane activities and movements of their minions in the company that nobody pays attention to. Then I can deduce from there.”
Orla grinned widely. “You’re a smart boy.”
Chapter 9
Early morning in Hyde Park, the fog was as thick as clouds. Orla sat on a bench with her monocular. Her phone was on hands-free. She glanced at the park to locate Madeline. She had a notebook on her lap. “What am I supposed to watch for again?”
“Birds. Look up into the trees, find a bird, and pretend to take notes. Don’t point your monocular at people, or you’ll get arrested.” Lorcan’s voice came out from the other end of the line.
“Okay, all right. I know. How do you know this will lead to something?”
“You see Madeline?”
“Yes. She’s running. She’s a real runner, though. Not a pretend bird watcher like me. She runs around her block every day. I can’t believe she took our hint and change her routine to run here today.”
“She searched for a chance to get to the ex
ecutives of the LeBlancs for days without any hope. We gave her Hyde Park. What would you do if you were her?”
“I’d jump on the chance and check it out. But still, I’ll bet you anything this is the location for Lindsay Freeman, Ciaran LeBlanc’s right-hand man. He’s practically the public face of the company. Of course, he would travel in limos and live at places like One Hyde Park. You can’t get Ciaran himself with just the travel log, regardless how good of a data thief you are.”
“Is that a challenge? Wanna bet?”
“All right. Bet on what?”
“Well, we missed one of our rituals yesterday morning. If I get this right, I’d like to double our activities tonight.”
“Lorcan, can’t you think of anything other than sex?”
“Well, men are pigs . . . but you like bacon, don’t you?”
“Oh, my God . . .”
“What?”
In the scope of Orla’s monocular, a man came out from the fog like a warrior. It was Ciaran LeBlanc. He was tall. At least six foot three. Slender build, well-toned muscles, fair English skin, long black hair that almost touched his shoulders. He had a strong face and dark, intense, smoky gray eyes. God must have been in a very good mood when he created that face. He looked like a dark angel. A god’s warrior. Or maybe a wolf from Heaven. Were there wolves in Heaven? Orla mused.
“Orla.” Lorcan’s voice echoed from the other end of the line. “Orla,” he repeated.
“Huh?”
“What happened?”
“I . . . I think I just saw Ciaran LeBlanc.”
In the apartment, Orla stared at the computer and smiled. Lorcan narrowed his eyes. “You’ve got that smile on your face.”
“What smile?”
“You smile for two reasons, lust and money. Given that we’ve just satisfied the first one, I am guessing you’re using your money smile . . . Unless you’ve turned into a rabbit and want to go for another round?”
Orla chuckled. “Don’t worry. I don’t want to wear you out. The money just came in.”
“What money?”
“I told the client that we located Ciaran LeBlanc. He deposited twenty percent of the money into our bank account.” Orla grinned.
Lorcan shrugged as if he didn’t care.
Madeline’s voice came from the speaker again. She had called Zen, and it sounded like Zen had switched on the video phone.
“Miss me?” oozed Zen’s sleazy voice.
“You don’t have to sniff around my workplace and freak out other people. I said I’d get the information for you, and I will.” Madeline fumed.
“I didn’t snoop anywhere. Who else knows about this?”
Orla gasped.
Madeline paused, then she continued. “Oh, no, I’m just annoyed. I have a few unkind readers sending nasty notes to my paper, that’s all.”
“You know, if you keep poking your nose into other people’s business, you’ll end up with something as big as a bomb—or as little a bullet. They’re both lethal, though! What have you got for me?” Zen asked.
“Ah . . . not much yet. I just wanted to clarify a couple of things. So White Knight is a fictional character in a game, an avatar? The person behind White Knight only created this character? Or did he or she take on the role in the game?”
“Jesus Christ! Don’t you know anything about games?”
“No, not really. I don’t even know exactly how to get the information. If I get inside the LeBlanc premises, you want me just to go around asking who plays White Knight?”
Lorcan chuckled and whispered into Orla’s ear “She’s stalling.”
Zen sounded as if he was struggling to stay calm. “No, don’t ask directly and don’t alarm anyone. All you have to do is to tell them that one computer on their premises was used to play a hologame. Make it up as you go. Say the game was illegal or whatever. Then, when you have the info about the person who used the computer, let me know. Don’t say anything about White Knight at this stage. If it turns out to be many people, we’ll narrow the list down later. But I need the real names of those who played. Got it?”
Orla asked, “Do you know what a hologame is?” Lorcan nodded.
“When will I see results?” Zen asked.
“Come on, you only gave me Hyde Park. That’s a residential address, not the business headquarters. How am I supposed to . . .?” Madeline said.
“What? I didn’t give you the address. I didn’t know the address. Who tipped you? Who else knows about this?” Zen asked.
“Shit!” Orla exclaimed.
“Fuck, she thought Zen gave her the note,” Lorcan mumbled.
“What happened? You better fucking tell me!” Zen yelled.
“I . . . I was . . .” Madeline stuttered.
“Tell me!” Zen’s demonic voice sounded as if it would rip open the speakers.
“I was doing some research . . .” Madeline’s voice was shaky.
Orla yanked at her hair. Lorcan pulled out his pack of cigarettes. His hands shook slightly.
“Don’t you fucking lie to me again . . .” Zen demanded.
“I’ve got it. I’ve got the access . . .” Madeline begged.
There were struggling noises. Doors slamming and footsteps.
“You know why she doesn’t scream? Because nobody can hear her from down here. No one can save her but you,” Zen said.
“He must have put Jo on the screen,” Orla said. Lorcan kept smoking and said nothing.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m not lying to you about anything. Please don’t hurt her. Yes, I’ve done some research, and I got some information about a possible place of residence for the LeBlancs. I might be able to get an interview tonight with my journalist credentials. But that’s all I have . . .” Madeline cried.
There was the sound of fabric being torn. Jo cried.
Orla didn’t realize that tears were rolling down her face.
Madeline shouted. “Please don’t hurt her. I’ll do whatever I can tonight to get you the information. I’ll get you the list. No one else knows about this, I swear . . .”
More sounds of struggling. Jo’s cry was terrifying. It was the sound of pain, grief. And rape.
Lorcan grabbed at Orla, holding her as her body shook.
Madeline screamed into the phone. “Please, don’t do that. I will get you the list.”
“Then you’d better keep your promise. I’ll call you tomorrow morning,” Zen said and turned off the phone.
“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed this. I shouldn’t have asked you to do this. I shouldn’t have slid the note under her door . . .” Orla cried.
“Shhh.” Lorcan hushed her and held her until the emotion subsided. “Madeline needed that information. It’s the only way she can save Jo. It’s not our fault, Orla. You see, she got an appointment with Ciaran LeBlanc. Without our Hyde Park hint, she would never have gotten that far,” Lorcan said.
A couple of hours later, Lorcan finished putting together some listening devices.
“We need to hear Madeline’s conversation with Ciaran tonight,” Lorcan said.
“More listening in. More interference. We got Jo tortured, Lorcan.” Orla’s eyes welled up again.
“We don’t know that.”
“You want to watch video footage as well?”
“That’s not helpful, Orla. We can’t take back what happened. The more information we can find, the more we can help Madeline . . . and get Jo back safely.”
“I’m not even sure I’d give her to the client now,” Orla sobbed.
“Let’s think about that later. Right now, we need more ears on Madeline.”
“I don’t think we’ll get to listen in tonight. The recorder is in her light backpack. No girl is taking a backpack to a dinner date.”
“Dinner date?”
“Well, I told you that you should see Madeline in the flesh. I know Ciaran LeBlanc is a big fish. But he’s also a normal man—at least, by my gauge. If Madeline were a fifty-year-o
ld reporter with four kids, I wager he’d give her an appointment in his office during office hours. But she’s a hot cookie. So of course it’s a dinner date.”
Lorcan shrugged. “Well then, I’ll take this chance to head into the company to grab some equipment. I’ll be as quick as possible. Do you need anything while I’m out?”
Orla hesitated. “A gun.”
“Orla!”
“We might need it.”
“No, no. Of course not.”
“But if we do need a gun, can you arrange it?”
Lorcan gave Orla a blank stare.
“I guess not. You’ve never had to do anything like this in your life. I’m just pulling your leg.” Orla smiled.
“Orla,” Lorcan warned.
“Okay. All right. I won’t mention it again and won’t do anything silly. Happy now?”
Lorcan approached. He cupped her face in his hands. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I hate to break my promises. So while we’re at it, can you promise to help me out by taking care of yourself?”
Orla nodded. Lorcan kissed her, long and deep. Then he left the apartment.
Chapter 10
Orla was stacking away her work files and doing some research on her computer when someone knocked on the door. She narrowed her eyes. Had Lorcan forgotten his keys? Not possible. She peeked behind the curtain to look outside. A stunning woman in an elegant deep red suit, exquisite scarf, and ridiculously beautiful high heels was waiting at the door. She didn’t look threatening, but Orla grabbed her pepper spray and slid it into her pocket before opening the door.
