“You were in love?” I feel like I’m on the verge of hysteria after Van’s revelation. I square my body to his as much as I can while sitting next to him on the bench. “You were in a fucking relationship? What soap opera shit is this? Let me get this straight: first, he’s a saint, then he’s a murderer, then he’s a victim, and now he’s an actual piece of shit adulterer after all? And he’s fucking gay? That would have been nice to know back when I was scared to come out to him. Or at any point in the decade since. Bloody hell.”

“To be fair, I don’t know that he considered himself gay,” Van says, undeterred by my outburst. “He didn’t talk about his family, but not because he didn’t love them. I don’t think. I’m focusing on the wrong thing here.” He takes a breath to recenter. “Logan was never a saint, so don’t act like he was. And yes, I loved him. Grow up. You’re missing the point.”

“There’s only one? I’m counting four points, maybe five.”

“Put your crisis on hold and make this about yourself on your own time. We’re on a clock.”

On my own time. I’m distantly aware that’s a long way off. And now there’s a time limit. I hate time limits. I try to focus, difficult for me on the best of days.

“I feel like I’m justified,” I hear myself whine, needing to get the last word. No reaction from Van. I sigh. “Alright,” I manage. “I hope I don’t need to remember anything specific right now because it’s not going to happen.”

“Fair enough,” says Van calmly. “Let’s get started.”

“Wait!” I blurt. “Before that, I have to know: how did you manage everything with that fucked-up treasure hunt to the USB?”

Van gives the tiniest hint of a smile, the most emotion he’s allowed to show on his face so far. “You swear like your brother." Then stonefaced again. "It’s simple. I followed you. You were easy to find. I knew based on your routine that you’d visit your library sooner rather than later, and I observed where you retrieved your books. It was as safe a place as any to leave the note for you. Logan talked about you often, so I already knew certain details about your life with him. I knew the Chain Bridge would be familiar to you, but cryptic to anyone else.” He swallows. “I knew you would recognize the meaning of ‘the worst day of your life.’”

“But the fingerprint scanner? How the hell did you swing that?”

“Not as difficult as you might think. I composited it from prints lifted off drinks and other items you’d handled. That particular lock box wasn’t the most sophisticated or secure, but a retina scan would have been quite difficult to obtain covertly.”

“Sheesh.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes. “I can ignore the invasion of privacy since it was for a good cause, I guess?” I lock eyes with him again. “Why couldn’t you use this information yourself?”

Van’s voice lowers, hardly more than a whisper. “Because I’m still on the inside and my position is tenuous. If I were to attempt any action, I’d risk being buried along with Logan, and his work would be for nothing. You, on the other hand, are under the radar. I hoped I could count on your strong character and your loyalty to your brother, the same way he was loyal to you.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

I doubt he can see my face turn red in the dim twilight as I think about how I almost threw that note away and went on with my life.

“And I wanted to give you time to process,” he continues. “If I had stopped you on the street, handed off the drive and explained everything at once, I wouldn’t have been able to trust that you’d react in a desirable manner.” He spreads his hands on his knees and takes a deep breath. “I hope that’s enough explanation for now; it’s really all secondary to our main objective.”

“Agreed!” Marcos leans forward on the bench to address Van. I was so lost in the moment, I had forgotten he was there. “So the idea is there’s a conspiracy with the Awakening mind-wiping people for… what?”

“What, indeed,” Van answers. “I believe Logan had uncovered vital intelligence during his operation but didn’t have the opportunity to relay it back to me.”

“Because he was caught,” Marcos finishes the statement. “And then framed to shut him up. So now what? You think he left a record somewhere?”

“I do. During our last briefing, he expressed worry that he was being watched. He ended the conversation abruptly and I wasn’t able to contact him again after that. But if he had discovered something and suspected his cover was in danger, he would have recorded it or hidden it somewhere as a failsafe. Under normal circumstances, he would have encrypted a message for me to retrieve information from a physical drop or a digital cache.” Van hands me the gallon-sized navy aluminum water bottle he had been drinking from. Instead of water sloshing inside as it moves, I hear rustling paper. “Here are some unlogged field journals, notes, and locations of previous drops he might have reused if he felt he needed to. Other than that your best course of action will be finding a way to access—”

“The encrypted files on the USB,” Marcos cuts in.

“Exactly. I added enough information on the drive to lead you in the right direction, but I haven’t been able to retrieve the encoded information he originally loaded it with.”

“Huh?” I look back and forth between them. “I didn’t see any encrypted files on there.”

“That’s kind of the point,” Marcos says and rubs my back. There, there. “I’ll show you where to look.”

“Okay…” I draw out, “and then what?”

“I get the impression your friend here will know what to do at that point,” Van says, nodding toward Marcos. “My instinct would be to go public. Put enough information out that it can’t be contained.”

“Publicity might protect us,” Marcos adds. His eyes move back and forth as if visualizing logistics and scenarios. “They can’t silence everyone if this blows up.”

“Silence as in…” My mind goes back to Logan waking up on the operating table, his lifeless smile. “Like remembering a book I’ve read,” was how Logan had described our entire life together after he awoke.

I become aware of both men looking at me with concerned expressions. “I’m fine! I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine…” All three of us are unconvinced.

Van stands up and offers me a handshake. “If this is the last time we meet, just know that you’re not alone in your grief.” He turns and shakes Marcos’s hand as well. “Any further attempt to contact me will be dangerous.” He turns back to me and searches my face with narrowed eyes. “Good luck.” Then he turns and walks away as poised as he had come.

Marcos squeezes my shoulder and says, “I’ll set up base for us. Get some rest and be ready to get to work tomorrow.” He leaves in the opposite direction as Van. I stay on the bench as the sky gets darker and the city lights get brighter, and eventually find the strength to go home, carrying the water bottle with the weight of Logan’s life in it.