A Drone over New York
Chapter 18

Not until Bill was out the door did Max manage to relax a little.

“You okay, Max?” Anton asked. He sounded genuinely concerned. He must have been in this situation with dozens of sources over the years.

“I think so.”

Anton pulled up a chair and sat down opposite him.

“I could tell you didn’t like Bill here, so I hope you don’t mind me kicking him out.”

“Nah, all good,” Max said. “He was kind of making me uncomfortable with all those comments. Where on earth did you replace him?”

“Ah, that’s a little secret. The less you know about him, the better. He is strangely not really good with people.”

That made Max smile. “You can say that again. He really did make it feel like too much too quickly.”

“Max, you’re a human being. You’re meant to feel a little overwhelmed.”

“You seem awfully calm, so what does that make you?” Max replied, trying to make a joke.

“That’s because I’ve been here before. I’ve done this type of thing.” It was not the type of response Max was hoping for, but Anton tended to stay on the serious path rather than make anything lighthearted.

“You’ve done this before?” Max asked, a little more mocking than he had planned.

“Nothing this big, but yeah, I’ve been in similar situations. Every single one of them is different, but there is a lot that is the same.”

Max didn’t know what to say. He tried to picture Anton doing this every few months. If Max tried to do it, he would be a nervous wreck.

“Max, I’m sorry,” Anton said. “I know I’ve dropped this all on you hard, but I thought I was only going to get a piece of my puzzle, not the whole thing. It’s kind of thrown me.”

“Tell me about it. I don’t know which way is up right now. I am not even sure I am 100 percent sure about what is going on!”

Anton’s eyes brightened a bit at that. “Actually that’s a good idea. Let’s take it from the top from your side of this. I think if we talk through it, an idea of what to do next will present itself.”

Max nodded. It did sound like a good idea.

“Dale sold you this pen drive that contained raw footage cut from the drone?” Anton started.

Max nodded and filled in a small missing piece for Anton: “He gave me the raw footage to ensure I would pay the price he was asking for.”

“Interesting.” Anton paused as he processed the new information. “Dale is now dead. Killed under what I believe to be suspicious circumstances. If I put the timelines together, I think it was the same night he sold you this. Probably shortly after he had sold it to you.”

Max nodded. It was true. Somehow Dale had been killed only hours after they had met under the bridge.

“You then went home, looked through the drive, and posted the first images of Tyell.”

“The computer I used to access the drive was a piece of crap with no internet access.” That one small precaution had probably saved his life.

Anton nodded. “Soon enough, Jack, another friend of yours, is in the hospital. He was involved in a drone accident involving a small drone from a local delivery company. I believe, but cannot confirm, that the drone was hacked.”

Max nodded. It all made sense so far.

“We believe Dale and Jack are somehow linked, but can’t say for sure, as there is nothing directly connecting the two of them.”

“Shit!” Max said, realizing something that he probably should have guessed when it happened. “Either Jack was another buyer, or someone thought Dale sold this to him instead of me.”

Anton sat back, nodding and likely thinking it through. It was a bit of a leap of faith, but it fit together.

That trigged another thought in Max’s head: the video that Dale had sent him … the one attached to the email Max deleted without even opening it—that was probably linked to the chain of events somehow.

“Anton, I think I’ve got something else you might be interested in,” Max said.

“What is it?”

“A ransom note. At least that’s what I think it is,” Max said, fearing what he was about to uncover. “Is there a computer here I can use?”

Anton pulled out a small tablet from his satchel and handed it over. Max began the installation of the software he needed to get onto his dark email. He made a mental note that he’d have to make sure to delete the app afterward, but it was a minor risk compared to the alternatives.

It was a nervous minute while it loaded. Max noted to himself that Anton was already connected to a local wi-fi network. Obviously he had been here before.

Once the app installed and he got logged in, Max breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the email still sitting in the Trash folder.

He downloaded it and then turned off the wi-fi.

“Do you want the router off too?” Anton asked.

“If you know where the router is,” Max said. “I think it might be better to be safe than sorry.”

Anton walked over to the bookshelf and fiddled with a small white box. Again, Max noted that he knew exactly where it was. Then Anton sat back down next to Max. The two exchanged an apprehensive look before Max reached down and pressed the Play button.

The video sprang to life and the sound of traffic filled the room. It was dark and moving around a lot. It was a few moments before either of them could work out that it had been shot on a cell phone. It was a few seconds more when everything started to make sense.

Dale was curled up on the ground, still in the same jogging gear Max had seen him in for the buy. He had been badly beaten and his face was bloody. He was crying, almost whimpering. And then Max recognized the place. Dale was under the bridge where they had met. The cars rattled overhead. The time stamp was only a couple hours after their meeting.

“Where is the video?” asked a raspy voice.

It sent a shiver down Max’s spine. He knew that voice. He knew it all too well from his time in the alley. He had met Dale’s killer. The realization that he had met the same man only yesterday made his blood run cold. They had found him, and he’d been lucky to get away.

“I don’t have it,” Dale cried through bloody and broken teeth.

A hand reached down and pulled him up by his hair. “Who did you sell it to? I want his name!”

“I don’t know his name. Only his email. He used to work for some celebrity gossip site.”

The word “used to” hung with Max. All the pieces of the puzzle suddenly fit into place. Dale was trying to protect him. His old friend had told a small lie to try and satisfy the man. It was meant to mislead him, but it was a poor choice. Little had Dale known that he’d just signed a death sentence on Jack.

“Well then, there is only one more thing you can do for us,” said the raspy voice.

A single gunshot pierced the air and Dale slumped where he lay. Eyes wide, Max watched the screen. His friend had been killed! Why hadn’t he opened the video sooner?

It was hard to watch, but whoever was in control of the camera kept it going. It was twenty seconds before a voice cut through Dale’s dying moans.

“This is what we do to people who don’t give us what we want. Hand us the video, and we will pursue you no further,” the raspy voice said as the camera focused in on Dale’s face—his mouth gasping for air.

Max wanted to turn away, but felt like he owed it to his old friend. He was going to have to watch Dale take his last breath.

But Dale kept gasping for air. His face was going pale. His eyes were closed, but he kept breathing. He was in pain. The gunshot to the stomach hadn’t killed him. The bastards were going to make him bleed out.

“Your friend has ten minutes to live. If you send us an email in the next six minutes, we can save his life. Otherwise he is going to die. You will have killed him.”

The video stopped there. The final frame, of Dale gasping for air, hung with Max.

He had done this. If he had only opened that email, his old friend might have lived.

“Max?” said Anton quietly.

“What have I done?” Max said.

“There is no way you could have saved him.”

“I could have opened this. I could have seen it,” Max said almost desperately. “I could have responded. I could have brought him time.”

He had let his friend die. All the memories of Dale come flooding back. He had let his old friend die.

“Max, they were never going to let Dale live,” Anton said in a calm voice. “And if they found you, you would be lying there with him. Dale saved your life. He didn’t give you up.”

“HE’S DEAD BECAUSE OF ME!” Max yelled. “I made him download the footage. I was the one who made him do it!”

Anton’s stillness did little to calm Max down. He couldn’t let it go.

“I LET HIM DIE!” he raged.

“Max, it’s not your fault.”

Anton was wrong. It was his fault. He should have opened that email. Tears started streaming down his face. He had let his friend die.

“Max, it’s not your fault.”

Max couldn’t believe it. He stood and backed away from the table. He should have replied. He should have trusted Dale more.

“Max, it’s not your fault.”

It was his fault. Anton was standing now, walking toward him. Anton didn’t know. He didn’t understand. Max had done this. He had caused the whole thing. One friend was dead, another was in the hospital, all because of him.

“Max, it’s not your fault.”

Max’s back was against the wall. His feet started to give way. Even if it wasn’t his fault, he’d had the chance to save a friend and didn’t take it. That made him a murderer. The man on the video was right: Max had killed Dale.

The tears flooded down his face. All the emotion of the last forty-eight hours poured out of him in an instant. Huddled in the corner of an unknown apartment, Max Overton, the great Max Overton, felt like a child, trying to bear the weight of the world on his shoulders. It was too much.

He felt Anton’s hand on his shoulder.

“Let it out, Max.”

Max cried for his old friend. He cried and cried and cried for him. The memories of everything they had done together washed over him. Dale was dead. They had been playing with fire and thought they could handle it.

Max’s mind started to shut down. It was all too much for him. Dale, Jack, Anton, Rachael, Kate, Martha … Everything left him as the emotions filled his body, pushing it all out, cleansing him of troubles.

He was the cause of all of the problems. He couldn’t think anymore. He could only cry. Cry like a baby.