Page 13 of Booked for Theft

I grabbed his large container, opened it, and dipped my fork into his sauce. A single taste warned me that the Indian restaurant would test his fortitude. However, I gave the restaurant credit on flavor.

They would make him cry, but he’d like it. “When I’m not up for spice, I’d eat this.”

He raised a brow at my announcement, took his dish back, and eyed the contents. “Isn’t one step above mild not very spicy?”

“You’re going to be crying, so I recommend we look over the files before we eat much more. What else is on the drive?”

Bradley ate every bite out of his sample cup, waiting two full minutes before turning to his milk for some relief. “There is a folder instructing us to watch everything within.”

“We can eat while we watch, just don’t ruin that laptop. It’s hard to get.”

“No kidding,” Bradley muttered. “My father’s employees will not be happy if they have to destroy all components capable of getting on the internet in yet another laptop.”

“Yet another?”

“I may have gone on a laptop rampage before my doctor’s appointment. You now have a laptop similar to this one, and we have two gaming laptops. They’re loaded with multiplayer games for us. I will conquer you, Janette. I will utterly destroy you and leave you begging for mercy at my feet.” Bradley wiped his hands clean before using the machine, clicking into the folder. “It seems we have a collection of ten videos to watch, and they’re numbered in order of which we should watch. They’re thirty minutes to an hour each.”

I eyed him, wondering why he’d gotten even more laptops. Since I’d moved into the condo with Bradley, three had fallen into my hands, one of which was dedicated to all things gaming. After some consideration, I decided I’d worry about the computers later, as Bradley was an adult capable of making poor fiscal decisions without me complaining about the money spent.

He surely had a reason, even if I couldn’t guess what that reason might be.

As such, I commented, “It seems Senator Thaddens has a lot to say—and he doesn’t feel he is allowed to say any of it.”

“Freedom of Speech died in the United States many a year ago.” With a sigh, he opened the first file and turned the laptop so we could both watch while we ate. “Let’s see what a politician wishes he could openly say, shall we?”

The video opened with a screen of text indicating that the camera and the original chip used to record all videos had been destroyed beyond any hope of recovery. I read between the lines: we would be wise to destroy the videos beyond any hope of recovery as well.

After dinner, we would. Bradley would take care of the laptop, and he would make use of a special hiding hole in the wall to store the memory chip. To access it, we would need to move several pieces of furniture, remove a section of baseboard, pull up a single plank, and pull out a tiny piece of drywall to hide the chip inside before moving everything back into place. At a glance, it was impossible to tell the baseboard connected to the wall using a strong magnet, the plank was likewise secured, and only the observant, after removing the baseboard, would notice the drywall wasn’t quite right.

Every scrap of evidence we had was stored within one of several tiny drives hidden in several crannies scattered around the condo.

No one else knew about the spaces, not even Bradley’s parents or his father’s security company.

Nobody could betray our secrets that way.

“Well, this is disconcerting,” I muttered.

“That’s an understatement.”

After a minute, the text faded away, and an image of Senator Thaddens stepping away from the camera and coming into focus came into view. He stood in a rainy forest, and thunder cracked overhead. A flash of light penetrated through the boughs above, and the man eyed the sky and heaved a sigh the camera somehow managed to pick up. “There’s so much I want to tell you, but I only have a limited amount of time to record this. It has become harder and harder to escape the view of the government’s eyes—or their ears. At the time of recording this, you and your family are safe from constant surveillance. They have limited bugs near your vehicles, but you have demonstrated that you are coming and going to your life without a care of the government. Keep doing that. It will protect you in the months to come. Luck has been with us in the strangest of ways, and I am in the best position to get a message to you. Will it help? That I don’t know. I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.”

Bradley reached over and paused the video, and he regarded me with a worried expression, his face paling. “He knows about the bugs in our garage.”

I nodded. “Which means the upper echelon of United States has been evaluating us—and finding us to be little pests not worth eradicating. Perhaps we’re the good kind of spiders in their garden in their eyes right now?”

To cover my growing sense of apprehension, I sought out another piece of potato, determined to fry my eyeballs, my taste buds, and quite possibly my few remaining brain cells in the process.

“I suspected this would be disturbing, but we haven’t even gotten through the first five minutes of this video, and I’m concerned over how much worse it will get.”

“Considering you just explored a bunch of folders confirming the government is rigged, there is reason to be concerned. Just hit the play button. Let’s see how deep this rabbit hole goes.”

Bradley did as asked, and like me, he relied on his meal to ground him—and offer sufficient culinary suffering to distract from the plethora of issues the video would inevitably create for us.

Senator Thaddens gestured to the forest he stood within. “This is near Lake Como in Italy. Italy bars excessive government personnel during visits, so the United States was only permitted to send two agents with me. This is a rest day, and I wished to go on a hike. The Italians kindly invited my security detail to participate in a training exercise, promising they would attend to my security. Should things not go as we prefer, reach out to Italy. They are your ally—and mine. They also have copies of everything I am giving to you, as they assisted with the creation of the thumb drive I hid away for you to find. This ploy could not be completed on American soil, that much I can tell you.”

I believed it, and I wondered how the United States had fallen so far that Italy had gone out of its way to assist a beleaguered senator.

But then again, Italy understood vicious politics better than most, being the heart of what had once been the Roman Empire. In a way, I was grateful I had fallen in love with the codices depicting Emperor Hadrian’s architectural exploits. It gave me a good reason to delve into the rise and fall of empires—and how we might navigate the treacherous waters we waded through.