Tui had known eventually everything would come to a head. And when it did, there would be chaos and he’d be able to swoop in like a hawk and pluck the unsuspecting fish from the river. Sure, it was difficult to keep up with Jalen, but again, his instincts had paid off. He’d watched the failed raid on the Chinese Kumbaya circle, enjoying the contrite look on that bastard Darsie’s face when the crowds started swarming around the church.
But still, Tui knew this could be the billionaire’s elaborate scheme. Make a to-do about suspecting someone else to keep the attention away from yourself. Sounds just like something a punk like Darsie would do. Funny, he’s the world’s greatest hacker and yet he somehow lost the trace. How convenient.
Even so, Tui couldn’t believe his eyes as he watched Darsie’s Tesla leave the data center, weave back through Chinatown, and then pull back into Red Trident where Hi Kyto was waiting. That sleazy MFer was headed right back to the nest. To meet with the prime suspect.
Tui got out his phone and texted Ken: Polish the fuckin medal of honor for me.
This is all about to pay off, my friend. Ken texted back. Big time.
From the back seat of the Uber, Jalen’s hands shook as he texted Hi Kyto: I know you hate me. And I promise I’ll never lie to you again.
Seconds passed. Then a text popped up: What do you want?
The handle Pro_F_er, Jalen typed furiously, have u ever seen it?
Maybe. I’ve played like 1000 handles.
Morg’s handle? Was it his?
Don’t think so. He had a bunch. His main one was like Ocean Boy. Or Sea Boy. Please stop.
Sea-boy? Jalen’s heart pounded in his throat. Not high boy?
No.
Jalen looked out the window at the late-afternoon traffic. Hi Kyto texted again: But hai is sea in Chinese.
“Oh my god.” Jalen tapped his driver’s shoulder. “Please, man, can you please go faster?” He called Hi Kyto.
“Jay, I can’t do this right now,” Hi Kyto said.
“Julie, listen to me. You’re not safe. Please, where are you?”
“I’m in Morg’s office right now. Look, if you have questions, you can talk to him yourself. He’s walking in.”
Jalen listened in horror as she passed off the phone.
“Hey, Jay,” Morgan said.
Tui flipped his FBI badge at the salad-eating security guard at the pavilion entrance and ran to the elevator, jamming his thick, tan hand between the doors before they could close.
“What floor?” Darsie asked as he pressed the fourth.
“Same, thank you.” Tui smiled.
The fourth floor pinged and Darsie stepped out, almost charging down the dingy hallway. Tui fell in step behind him, feeling for his gun as he entered the business office of Ocean Guardian. Everything was grungy. Like stepping from the sleek future back into the year 1989.
Tui watched Darsie duck inside the office where the Asian gaming chick and a young college-aged kid with stupid-looking long hair were waiting. It was dark. The overhead fluorescent lights were off as the staff and volunteers were leaving for the end of the day. Tui’s eyes shifted to the glass, peering through the sea of stickers.
Now was the time. Tui entered the waiting area, where the three were sitting in beanbag chairs. He leveled his gun. “Think I need to have a little talk with you guys.”
Morgan jerked Hi Kyto by the wrist and started stepping backward toward his office. “Yeah, I don’t think so.” Morgan slammed the door, peering at Tui and Darsie through the glass.
“Morg, what are you doing?” Hi Kyto writhed in his grip. “Let me go!”
Tui leveled his gun at the door.
“No!” Darsie called out. “It’s bulletproof!”
“Then I’ll kick it in.” Tui slammed his giant foot into the door.
Tui began slamming his whole body into the glass door. A few more kicks and slams and suddenly, the door gave way. He was in.
He made it only a couple of feet before—BOOOM!
A horrible explosion rocked the room, blowing glass and knocking Darsie to the floor. Black smoke and flames permeated the air. Darsie looked out into the chaos: water raining down from the ceiling and Tui, legless on the floor, eyes open, body severed in half.
Darsie stared blankly, then shifted his body, seeing a giant chunk of glass piercing his torso, blood seeping around it. He peered into Morg’s office—filled with smoke and broken glass, the windows completely blown out. He watched as Morg secured a neon yellow rappelling rope to a cabinet and slipped over the edge, struggling to support a limp Hi Kyto tucked under his arm.
He dropped from sight, and moments later, Darsie heard a motorcycle engine rev.