Page 109 of Hurt

Elijah got between Jamie and Roland. “It’s true. He’s very careful. There’s no way anyone could have pickpocketed him.”

Owen could confirm that. For all his joking, Jamie was always self-aware. He knew how many people were in a room before Owen had even looked up and was incredibly defensive.

“Are you familiar with RFID?” Owen interrupted.

“Radio Frequency Identification?” Grant asked.

“Yes. It uses electromagnetic fields to automatically track objects that have tags attached to them. Modern-day pickpockets can use it to scan credit cards right in your pocket. A lot of wallets are getting around this risk with built-in RFID protection.” Owen scratched at the neck of the orange sweatshirt he was wearing. He hated being the center of attention.

“There’s a new technology that’s using the same thing but for cell phones. Hackers can use modified RFID tech to clone a phone without even putting their hands on it. It’s expensive, though, and not widespread.”

“Could the Vega Cabal have it?” Roland asked, still unblinking.

Owen was really worried about his eye moisture levels.

“The technology is so new that there’s no way to track it.” Owen shrugged. “If I could get into their system, then I could do some digging, but from here, there is no way to know.”

Wallace stroked his scraggly goatee. “Well, we have to assume that they do. Grant, get everyone new phones and instruct them to only use them for emergencies. For now, all communication will have to be done over the secure server.”

Jamie strode over to the cellphones and picked his up. Carrying it with him, he stepped out into the backyard. Through the kitchen window, Owen watched him set the phone on the ground then take five large steps back.

A gun appeared in his hand, and before any of them could say anything, he had shot the phone twice.

Owen stared at the smoking wreck of electronic parts. “Is this a bad time to mention that Lithium batteries are pretty unstable?”

Jamie returned to the kitchen, sans gun. Where he put it, Owen had no desire to know.

He made no comment, just returned to his post with a dark look on his face.

Elijah watched his partner with a trace of understanding in his eyes. The Weaver boys owed everything to the Weaver Syndicate. It must be devastating for Jamie to know he might have been the cause of Weavers’ deaths. Even unintentionally.

Grant rubbed his face. “All Weaver personnel are in safe houses. Those who can fight are ready. Owen, can you run aerial surveillance on the addresses we pulled off Congressman Thomas’ computer?”

A few taps of his mouse, and he had them pulled up. “Already done.”

“Good. I suspect some of them may be related to the Vega Cabals businesses—legal and otherwise.”

“We going to hit them?” Jamie asked without any of his usual mirth.

“Yes,” Grant said. “We may not know where their home base is, but we can eliminate their support structure.”

Wallace nodded in approval. “Knock out the foundation, and the house comes crumbling down.”

Roland’s fingers cracked as he flexed them.

Owen looked down at his computer and missed his basement.

The loft in Grant’s cabin was spacious. Open to the rest of the house by an ornately carved wooden banister, it was hardly designed for privacy. Despite that, Kurt found himself quite comfortable. The A-frame roof dropped down over a mattress lying on the floor under a window. Taking up the entire short wall, the window overlooked trees sheltering the home from prying eyes.

Curled up on the edge of the mattress, wrapped up in a thick duvet, Kurt watched a squirrel chase its friend up the spindly trunk of a Mesquite tree. Resting his forehead against the cool glass, he let his breath fog up the window then fade away before another exhale clouded it again.

He was alive.

It was a strange feeling. A week ago, he had been ready to die. He never imagined what his life would look like in the following days. Or weeks. Or months. Now that he was here, he didn’t know what to do.

The events of the last few weeks kept replaying in Kurt’s mind. Everything from the assault he didn’t really remember to the gun going off beside his head. A constant loop of cruelty that put him through a gambit of emotions he couldn’t keep up with. The pain he was used to, but there was a new one. A fresh feeling. One he had not felt before, new and terrifying, it was just as sharp as the rest.

Relief.