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When Aviva returned to her condo, she was relieved to find that a note wasn’t waiting for her at the entrance to her condo. She had no time to waste. It had been nearly an hour since her meeting with Lev. He expected an answer from her soon. The urgency she felt wasn’t so much to meet Lev’s deadline; she didn’t care about his needs. She was worried about the situation in New York. The ultimatum from the Red Masks hanging over the city was making people nervous. Nobody knew what to expect. Without law enforcement in the streets, it wouldn’t take much for a clash between the Bold and Brave and the opposing Dignified Unity to start. An accidental gunshot from either side would be enough for this to erupt into a full-blown street war. She wasn’t naïve enough to believe she could prevent something from happening. Even if she gave Dignified Unity good reason to leave the city, they might not listen to her. What was certain, was that if she waited till after the breaking point, her words would be useless.
The more she thought about it, the more she realized it was a stupid idea for the president to ask his bully buddies to protect the Decision Center. This could easily have been avoided if he had asked Dignified Unity to protect it in the first place. The Bold and Brave would have listened to the president’s request to back down. Seeing this simple solution only added to her suspicion that Lev and the president had other plans in mind.
The Virt had become a world of its own. A place where Lev’s influence was limited. He didn’t like that and was probably planning his reach into this world for some time already. Lev saw opportunity in everything. It was the way he worked. The instability caused by the Red Masks offered him an entry into The Virt that he’d probably been eyeing for some time.
Okay, she mustn’t get ahead of herself. She had a talent for creating convincing narratives, but she needed to stay anchored in facts. The situation was complex. The pressure of the deadline wasn’t helping. Lev would have to wait a little longer. Give her a chance to dig into this a little deeper.
She flattened the two pages. To the left were the contacts provided by Patricia. To the right the names from Jacques Duffy’s note. She scanned the names on Patricia’s list. She hesitated over them; she couldn’t be picky, but she needed someone she could trust.
She read through the names again, stopping this time on Sebastian Baker. It provoked a strange feeling in her gut again, like it had done the first time she saw it. This must be Seb Baker. They had never called him Sebastian. He was known for his ability to get information. And he owed her a favor.
***
Seb Baker had been sentenced to jail for accessing confidential government files. Files he declassified revealed a sex trafficking ring of minors by Bill Wilkes, the senator of Arkansas at the time. The senator got ten years in jail, while Seb got life in a high-security prison. At the time, nobody expected Seb to survive his first year. His mother was the district attorney in LA and had been ruthless at cleaning the streets of crime. She had put a record number of gang leaders behind bars, where Seb was going to join them.
Five years later, not only was Seb still doing fine in prison, but the president was issuing him a pardon.
At the time, Aviva had been asked to cover the story. It was one of her first big stories that could get her widespread coverage and advance her career. She had wanted to make the most of it.
She had interviewed prison guards and other inmates to understand how Seb had stayed safe despite his mother’s reputation hanging over him. They didn’t offer much in response. They mostly shrugged, saying that the inmates liked Seb. In one interview, a guard mentioned that Seb played chess with a well-known gang leader his mother had incarcerated. There was something they weren’t telling her. But the more she pushed them, the less they said.
She had interviewed Seb in the prison before his release. He wore an oversized prison uniform over his small frame. He sat slouched, uninterested in Aviva and her questions. She understood he wasn’t the type looking to share his side of the story or wanting to gain public sympathy. He wanted to get out and be left alone.
“Are you happy to be getting out?” she’d asked.
“What do you think?”
Yeah, her question was naïve, she had to admit it.
“Ever feel your life was in danger in prison?” she asked.
“Sure, my mother has enemies.”
“Did they threaten you?”
“I’m still alive, that’s what counts, no?” he said.
She understood she was wasting her time trying to get to the point indirectly. He knew what she was there for and until she asked straight out what she wanted he wouldn’t tell her shit.
“Why didn’t they kill you?” she asked.
Silence.
“Listen to me, Seb,” she said. “Tonight, my face will be on the news across the county to tell your story. I might get the facts wrong if you don’t help me out. It would be unfortunate to not get off to a good start in your freedom. Don’t you think so?” They sat with their poker faces in silence for several minutes. Her little speech didn’t work. She tried a different approach.
“Is the president letting you out as a favor to your mother?”
“Yeah, that sounds right,” he said, appearing amused.
She knew that wasn’t true. She had thrown that comment out there for him to deny it. If his mother had wanted to, she could have reached a deal years ago. The previous president was more closely attached to her than the one at the time of his release. Anyway, Seb’s mother was too righteous a type to ask for such a thing—even for her own son.
Aviva had been pacing the cell, frustrated about getting nowhere with him. “I will uncover every file in this prison to figure out why they didn’t touch you,” she said. “These guys aren’t the type to shrug off a grunge so easily. When given a chance they will gladly seek revenge.”
He leaned forward and whispered, “I made friends.”
“Friends with your mother’s enemies.”
“You seem smart,” he said, “I’ll give you a hint. Just one. Don’t mess it up. The president is releasing me for the same reason they put me in here.”
Her mind raced to make sense of what he had just revealed. They sent him behind bars because he had exposed a senator for criminal behaviors. Quickly she started connecting the dots and things started to make sense.
“Sensitive information.”
He smirked. “They all have some.”
He was providing sensitive information to the criminals his mother was sending in jail. They were probably using this information as blackmail to negotiate a reduction of their sentences. He was undoing his mother’s work.
“You exposed the—”
“I told you enough,” he interrupted, crossing his arms. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t get me killed on my way out. Senators are more ruthless than the inmates I spent years with. The story is that the president is letting me out as a favor to my mother. I suggest you spend most of your time talking about her. Remind the viewers how great she is at upholding the law and cleaning the streets.”
She did just that. Seb Baker’s pardon had been her first big story, broadcasted on prime-time news across the nation. It was also the first time she did something she had promised to never do as a journalist. She had lied. She had told the story that needed to be told and never regretted doing it.
***
She initiated the call.
He answered.
“Is this Seb Baker?” she asked.
“It is.” No video image appeared on the call display.
“You might remember me—”
“Aviva from 24WRLD. We met in prison, right?” he said.
“Patricia gave me y—”
“I know. What do you want?” he said.
“First, I need to know who else will see my request.”
“Everything is between you and me. Always one-on-one, that’s the way I work.”
“Can I trust you?”
“You called me.” He paused. “I trusted you to do the right thing when I was let out of prison. I took my chance, didn’t I?”
She had no other choice. “I got some names that I need you to look into. Anything. History, links to politics—”
“A biographical sweep. Not a problem.”
“Also, I’d like to know if anything odd is happening in The Virt’s headquarter in Antarctica,” she said.
“Odd? That is a large net. A subjective one too.”
“Right. Check for recent changes or new employees...anything.”
“I’ll see what I can do. Anything else?”
She hesitated. “Morgan.”
“Already investigated him. It was requested by Lev. I found nothing suspicious,” he said.
“Nothing,” she repeated.
“He seems like a genuinely nice guy.”
“He is.” She felt guilty for having asked about him.
“When do you need this?”
She checked the time. “Ten minutes.” She knew her request was impossible, but she wanted to see what he could offer.
“Give me thirty.”
That was more than she could hope for. She was impressed.
He hung up.
Aviva sighed, walked to the kitchen, and poured herself a drink.
