33
Ryker sits in the kitchen, nursing a scotch. He’s staring down at a brown envelope in the middle of the table, sealed shut with no address on the front.
“When did it arrive?” I ask.
“This afternoon, a worker flagged me down when I came to check on the work.”
“Hand delivered?”
“Mm,” Ryker grunts, “We missed her.”
I pick up the envelope and open it, sliding out a pile of photos.
Wren steps forward, looking over my shoulder as I begin to sift through them, my smile hardly contained at what I’m seeing.
People.Importantpeople, all of them in precarious situations, I stop on one, the mayor of London, head buried between the thighs of a blonde haired woman when he has a wife and two children, a few politicians and high ranking CEO’s. These people are from all over the world, huge cities, countries, there’s even a fucking priest. I stop on one image, a guy in a suit, holding a gun to a woman, her son dead next to her.
“I thought they didn’t get their hands dirty,” I comment.
“I guess they will if they need to.”
“Who is this?” I ask, tapping the photo.
Ryker looks over, “I believe that’s Graham Edmonds, Edmonds Enterprises.”
“Interesting,” his reach is far, owning several well established and successful businesses across the world, a range of hotels and restaurants and is in real estate. I lift the envelope and tip it upside down, a flash drive thudding against the top of the table.
Without a word, I spin in the kitchen and head down to the office, hearing Ryker and Wren trailing behind. At the computer I load it up and slot the drive into the port, waiting for the contents to download. Wren stands at the other side of the office, looking around, taking in the paintings on the wall and the hundred-year-old whiskeys lining the shelves. She looks out of place and small, but I know this is exactly where she belongs.
Thousands of files drop, one by one, a list of sins to be used, extorted and bargained with. “She fucking got it all didn’t she,” Ryker comments, amusement lining his tone.
“She did.” I agree and I knew exactly how to use it. Going through each file, I pull up tax evasion, drug and money trafficking, skin trade, everything and it’s all tied to names. Names of the very people running cities, offices, senators, politicians. They’re all corrupt. They’re all dirty.
They were clever really, from the dates on these files, this has been going on for years and they’ve never been caught. There’s never been an arrest. Most of their crimes are done using various different groups, some gangs, but I can see how they are taking over cities. Taking down the ruling bodies and inserting themselves in their place, taking over the drug routes, the money and gambling and inserting their own dirt, their own schemes.
Skin trade and trafficking is something us Silver’s have never been interested in but the Syndicate, they were all for it. It was their main source of income and no doubt where Valentine got his inspiration.
A number of sex houses dotted around the world, girls used in various ways, images of them drugged, some dead, others frothing at the mouth all the while these guys in suits watch on with smirks on their faces.
I make a copy of all the information, saving it to a second flash drive and remove the drive.
This would take some time and I needed the Syndicate to come to me, I wasn’t going to go looking for them. With Valentine gone, they were probably making a new plan but this time, I’d be ready for them.
I store the flash drives in the safe in the penthouse and then go in search of Wren, finding her in the bathroom, drawing a bath. Her hand swirls through the water, mixing in bubbles, the stones in her ring glinting in the bright over head lights.
I press a button to dim them and then strip from the shirt I have on, wincing with the movements in my shoulder.
“All that shit I saw today,” she comments as I brush her hair away from her face, “You’re going to make them pay, aren’t you? The trafficking, it’s disgusting.”
“It is, I agree, but organizations like the Syndicate are like a hydra, you cut off one head, three more rise to take its place. I plan on keeping them away from this city but I can’t do much more than that.”
“So it continues?” She grits her teeth.
“There’s going to be plenty of shit in this life that you’re going to see and not agree with, if you weren’t here, it would still be happening, you would just be blind to it.”
“I wonder if that would be better,” she murmurs, switching the water off. When she turns to me her hands go to the large white bandage covering the bullet hole in my shoulder.
She peels it away from my skin and finds a new one to replace it with, being careful not to disturb the stitches. When that is complete, she slips from her clothes, stepping over the rim of the tub to submerge herself into the water. A long exhale escapes her lips as she slips all the way down until the bubbles touch her chin and her lashes flutter against the apples of her cheeks.