He sighs, long and hard. And then he groans. “Come on, Harry.” I cringe at the name. He knows I hate it. My name is Harold. Or, as Emma has named me, Ryan. I like Ryan. I don’t like Harold. I hate Harry.
“Are you with them?”
“You mean am I a TREX agent?” He laughs. “That would be a no.”
“Why do you say it like that?”
“Are you shitting me? With our family’s history, you can ask that?”
I still as my pulse thuds in my ears. Our family’s history? What’s that even mean? I play it down in the hopes he’s too dimwitted to pick up on the fact I have no idea what he’s talking about. “I just figured, you know…”
“Don’t believe everything you hear.”
“I want to hear it from you.” I have no idea what I’m doing and hope I’m not somehow breaking yet another unwritten rule by baiting my brother into admitting something above my pay grade. Then again, since I’m out of the internship program, I’m not getting paid anyway. That’s a good enough justification for me.
“Hear what? What do you want me to say?”
I take it a step deeper. “They tried to recruit me.”
“What?” His tone changes from annoyed to guarded. “When?”
“Does it matter?”
“Hell, yeah. It matters. Look, I get you don’t like being a part of this family. I mean, what’s to like about private schools, getting into the college of your choice, or graduating with a degree you can actually use.”
“I get it,” I snap. “We have money. We have connections.”
“We have power,” he adds without missing a beat. “Being a Ryan means a lot more than a fat net worth. It’s not you they want. It’s the fact you’re a Ryan. TREX wants to exploit that. You think you’re the first Ryan they’ve come after?”
“You?”
“Don’t sound so shocked. Just be careful, little bro. Don’t buy the bullshit they’re selling.”
Great. As if I don’t have enough turmoil turning my world upside down. Let’s add doubt over why a covert agency sought me out. I’m the least popular brother in my frat. My grades are decent but won’t be getting me a scholarship into grad school. I’m not even sure I want to go to grad school. College hasn’t exactly been better than high school. Not everyone enjoyed high school like Jason Bowman. Like Derek Ryan.
I think about that. Derek went to the University of Washington. Jason went to the UW, as well. Did they know each other? “Do you recognize the name Bowman?”
“No,” he answers fast. Too fast. “Look, man. It’s a Saturday night. I’ve got plans. You’ve got your little online friends. God forbid you actually venture out of that portable you call a house and interact with real humans.”
“I happen to have a girlfriend,” I admit before I can stop myself. I want to prove to him I’m not as pathetic as he thinks.
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s her name?”
“Emma. I met her at a bar.”
He perks up. “You went to a bar?”
“I brought her home from the bar.” Why I keep going, I have no idea, only that I finally have something to talk to him about. For once, he’s actually listening to me. “She stayed the night and even cooked me breakfast the next morning.”
“Dude, you nailed her and got a free meal out of it? Nicely done, bro. Proud of you. There just might be a normal dude hidden somewhere underneath all that weirdness. I gotta bounce. Stay, uh… See ya.”
“See ya.” I end the call and fight the twist in my gut. My brother is proud of me for the first time in, well, ever. I hate the reason why. He doesn’t give a shit about me. He barely gave two shits about some covert agency trying to recruit me. No, what he cares about above all that is the fact I took a girl home from a bar. That, right there, says everything about Derek Ryan.
I contemplate calling my dad and decide against it. Dealing with one pain in the ass Ryan in one day is enough. I’ll try him tomorrow. I still have several hours before I need to be online for my Saturday night gaming tournament. We get together every Saturday night. Without permission, Derek’s words register. You’ve got your little online friends.
They’re the only friends I have. Well, aside from Emma. Hating that realization, I grab my coat. If I’m going to become some sort of player women can’t get enough of, I need to break out of my comfort zone. Gaming, online friends, is all I know.
It’s time I venture into the unknown.
22
[Ryan]
I’m not even to the Vespa when my phone buzzes. I know better than to ignore restricted numbers and bring the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Come back inside.” It’s TREX Special Agent David Snyder. “We need to talk.”
If it was anyone else, I would have told them no. I have a feeling this man isn’t used to hearing that word, and when he does, he quickly persuades the answer to a yes. “Yes, sir.”
As I walk back to the mod, I glance around, expecting to see Jason or Jackson pop out from the shadows. There’s nothing to indicate anyone’s around. That doesn’t mean they aren’t out there. I grab my keys to open the door and stop. The door is already open. I push it open all the way and step inside.
David is standing at the kitchen island, an open laptop in front of him, a scowl on his face. He flicks a quick look my way before nodding at the computer. “How do you get past this part?”
I close the door and search the room. He’s the only one here. I’m not sure how I feel about that. It’s always been TREX agents, as in plural. Now I have the boss of the agents in my mod. Alone. I swallow hard and toss my coat onto the back of the couch. He’s already told me I can’t be part of their internship program, so why’s he here? Instead of asking, I focus on the laptop screen, expecting to see some sort of password-protected site.
When I spot a first-person shooter game, I relax. A little. I know this game. I’ve beat this game. “The obvious choice is to go through that gate.”
“It’s locked. Where’s the key?”
“There is no key.”
He shakes his head. “Then how the hell am I supposed to break through the damn thing?”
“May I?” I take a seat and shift the laptop to face me. “Basically, you don’t. It’s a distraction. Players will waste time and ammo trying to break through it. By the time they realize it’s never going to open, they’re out of ammo and have to go backward in the game to collect more. It’s a huge time suck.”
“Sounds like the obvious choice is the wrong one in this case.”
“It’s the wrong one in most games, actually. That’s part of the challenge. It’s what makes a game good.” I move the shooter to a giant rock wall to the left and toss a grenade. It explodes, creating a nice hole.
“How’d you know that would work?”
“I used to play this game a lot. Besides, there’s always more than one way to beat the game.”
“You like to create your own way.”
I’m not sure if we’re still talking about the game, but I play along anyway. “I like a little control over the path I take, yeah.”
“Then why aren’t you trying to take the path you created by blowing a hole in that wall?”
“It’s not that easy.” I place the shooter behind a metal trash bin and wait. “There’s a reason that gate is locked. We just breached the compound, so those on the other side of the walls are going to fight even harder to protect what’s inside.” Zombies, monsters, and a few characters I’ve never been able to figure out come pouring out of the hole I created with the grenade. I grab another grenade and launch it, blowing up most of them. I then race the shooter out from behind the bin and shoot until nothing is left standing. “There you go.”
I turn the laptop to him once I’ve secured the area and walked the shooter through the hole in the wall. David taps a few keys, moving the shooter left, then right. “Thanks.”
He sits at the counter and continues to move the shooter. It’s
painful watching how slow he is to react. There are zombies closing in and he’s not doing anything about it. They’ll be on top of him in seconds if he doesn’t turn and take them out. I can’t stand it. “You’re about to get jumped.”
“Here.” He offers me the laptop. I take it and get to work.
David watches the screen, yet I feel his attention is on me, on how I react to the game. “You seem to be pretty good at this.”
“I’m a gamer. It’s what I do. Just because a gate is locked doesn’t mean there’s not another way in.”
“The gate was an obstacle. You just had to find a way around it.”
“There’s always a way around an obstacle.” As soon as I say it, my fingers freeze on the keys. The epiphany hits me as if he screamed in in my face. The zombies surround the shooter and devour him. I don’t even try to fight back and let them take out the shooter.
David slowly closes the laptop, giving me enough time to engage my brain and move my hands. He’s got a knowing grin as he nods. “There he is. I knew the kid I first met was in there somewhere.”
“What is this? Is TREX letting me into the internship program anyway?” I try not to get my hopes up, but my breath comes in shallow gasps anyway. If I’m in, I’ll still have the chance to become something more than someone chained to a desk for the next fifty years.
“Officially, no. Your involvement is strictly off the books.”
My hope is dashed, replaced with distrust. I think back to what my brother told me. TREX doesn’t want me. They want my name, someone who can tap into the power that comes with being a Ryan. I don’t want to believe him, but what choice do I have? “Involvement in what?”
“We need someone with your particular set of skills to help crack some intel we’ve been trying to get at.”
“I’m not a hacker.” I refuse to break the law, regardless of the reason.
“We’re not asking you to hack into anything. We need someone to set up, uh…” He pauses and lifts his gaze as if searching the ceiling for the words. “Something about a web pixie and detection blocker. Ah, hell. Just a second.” He whips out his phone and dials. “Charis, love? What was it I was supposed to say? No, I didn’t write it down. Yes, I know you told me to. Would you just tell me? Fine.” He sets the phone on top of the laptop. “You’re on speaker.”
“That photographic mind of yours only works if you actually see it, not hear it.”
“You’re on speaker,” he repeats with a growl and forces a smile.
“Hello, Ryan.”
“Uh, hello?” I bounce my attention between the phone and David. He nods at the phone, so I drop my gaze and focus on the screen.
“My name is Charis Snyder. I’m an SAC with TREX in the intel division. That’s a—”
“Special Agent in Charge,” I jump in, desperate to impress them both, though I’m not sure why.
“Someone’s been paying attention,” Charis sings. I can practically see her smiling—well, if I could see her. I definitely hear it in her voice. “Do you know how to set up a web proxy?”
“Yes.” In my sleep.
“Good. We need you to create a web proxy so you can run searches undetected. I’ve saved instructions on how we want you to set it up so it routes traffic through TREX, where we’ll be monitoring your keystrokes. It’s standard protocol for any rookie his first year.”
My first year? Am I in? I want to ask but am too scared of the answer. “I can do that. What am I searching for?”
“Let’s get that web proxy set up, first.”
Web proxies aren’t enough anymore. “What about a VPN?”
“What’s that?” David asks.
“A Virtual Private Network,” Charis explains. “It’s a way to encrypt the traffic flowing to and from your computer.”
When David only blinks and shakes his head as he mutters something about geek talk, I think back to his advice. Know your audience. He’s clearly not familiar with computers, so trying to explain by using computer lingo isn’t going to work. “Think of a VPN like the walls of a compound. It keeps your valuables safe inside by keeping everything else outside.”
“But you broke through the wall.” His eyes shift back and forth as he processes the explanation. “That’s like hacking a VPN. You blew a hole into the wall and got in anyway.”
“With a grenade. That’s not the same thing.” I don’t want him to think I’ll ever hack, not for TREX or anyone else. I’ve had to clean too many viruses and malware off the lab’s computers thanks to hackers with nothing better to do than clutter the computers and annoy the shit out of me.
“TREX’s defense has seven layers as opposed to the industry standard of five.” Charis reins in the conversation. “Read through the instructions. It explains it in more detail.”
“Thanks, love. Give my boys kisses from Daddy.” David ends the call and grabs his phone, slipping it into his pocket. “I guess that’s that.”
I stop him as he heads to the door. “Wait. You’re leaving?”
“That’s what it looks like.”
“But…” I hesitate and glance at the enormous laptop. It’s either ancient, or it’s a super computer in a convenient size. “You want me to work on that laptop?”
“And only on that laptop.” He scoops up the bag holding my computer. “I’ll be taking this.”
Panic slams into me. “You can’t. All my school work is on that.” Not to mention some questionable browser history.
“I’m sure a smart kid like you had it saved in the clouds or whatever. Everything you need is on that laptop. If you need anything installed—which is highly unlikely since my wife set it up specifically for you—there’s a chat program you can use to reach TREX.”
“But—”
“TREX up, kid. You wanted this, remember? Now’s the time to prove it.”
23
{Emma}
It’s pretty crowded in the bar for a Saturday night. Friday is usually the party night. Saturday, and most of the time Sunday, is spent recovering and doing the homework being put off until the last minute. At least it is with me.
Kayla, on the other hand, is the exact opposite. She won’t even go out until she’s not only done this week’s homework, she’s also got a jump start on next week’s.
Which is why we didn’t arrive until almost ten. She wanted to finish a paper not due until break. I haven’t even started my Java midterm and it’s due before her paper. I’ve still got time. And, I’ve got an ace in my hole—Ryan. For whatever reason, I glance around, hoping to see him, though I’m not sure why. His running buddies wanted to go out for a beer. I didn’t think running buddies drank, beer or otherwise. Then again, Ryan is in college. Drinking should be a core class. It’d be the one class every college student aces.
The fact he’s got buddies has me more than a little suspicious. He’s never mentioned them. Granted, I’ve only known him a couple days. I’m sure there’s a lot I don’t know about him. That doesn’t make me any less suspicious.
“Do you want to get a table? Or a booth?” Although Kayla asks, she’s already heading for a booth. She rarely asks a question she doesn’t already know the answer to. Watch out if she ever meets someone who makes her question herself. My mind jumps to Jake Swanson. He makes her crazy, makes her do questionable things—like sleep with him and expect him to respect her in the morning. Jake isn’t the kind of guy to stick around after he gets what he wants. He’s more of the bang and bolt type.
I think of Ryan and smile. He’s not the bang and bolt type. Just having him pretend to be a Delta dick gave him hives. The way I reacted—it pissed me off, I’m not going to lie—had him ready to cry. Nope, that’s definitely not the way a player acts. I hated the way it made me feel like I didn’t matter, like I was just a piece of meat. To a true player, that’s all I am. To Ryan, I’m more.
I don’t like the way Kayla’s eyeing me, like she’s waiting for me to come clean on some big secret. Instead of opening that door, I ask, “Ho
w’s Jake?”
“Oh, no you don’t. We didn’t come here to talk about me and Jake. Besides, there’s nothing to talk about. I gave up a night of studying to talk about you and this little project you’ve got going.”
“His name is Ryan.” I hate that she calls him my little project. It’s not any better than Britt’s Project Em’s Way title.
“I know his name. I know who he is. He works at one of the computer labs and seems like a nice enough guy. Definitely not your type.”
“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Thank God our drinks arrive before Kayla replies. I take several gulps, consuming half my maraschino martini before nodding at the wide-eyed waitress. “I’m going to need another one.”
“You’re going to need a designated driver if you keep drinking like that,” she retorts.
Kayla offers, “I’ve got this. Get her another one, me a Diet Coke, and a basket of fries.”
“Sweet potato fries,” I jump in. When Kayla looks at me, I recall Ryan’s explanation over yesterday’s breakfast. After he explained a white carb, I went back to my dorm and threw out all the processed shit Britt and I keep on our shelves. She’s going to be pissed when she gets done blowing through her latest heartbreak. Mike? Mark? Mack? It doesn’t matter. He won’t be around long enough for me to learn his name. “Nothing white. White carbs are nothing but processed crap stripped of any nutritional value. It just turns to sugar, like I need any help with that.” I lick cherry syrup from my lips.
The waitress nods and disappears into the sea of college students letting loose on a Saturday night. Kayla is staring at me with wide eyes. I shrink back. “What?”
“When did you become such a health food expert?”
“I hardly think knowing the difference between white and sweet potatoes earns me the title of expert.”
“This from the same person who only eats deep-fried food at the diner.”
“That’s not true. I get the kitchen sink omelet sometimes.”
She rolls her eyes. “Why this one, Emma? What makes this one so different?”
Reluctant Hero (TREX Rookies Book 1) Page 17
