Page 72 of Natural-Born Cullers

Desensitization programmes in MI5 and 6 were ruthless over counteracting the effects. Clockwork Orange and being bound down and forced into rewatching memetic kill switches would have Halliday citing a breach of human rights, but doing that was the only way to prepare for their effect, because where the Mereana Mordegard Glesgorv was a hoax, others, like this this developed since, weren’t. Gray had been through training, then because of Simon’s dark web ownership, Gray had taken him through it too.

No one was immune. It only took a new hazardous memetic to get onto the market, and they were at the same risk as anyone else. Gray knew the history surrounding this one, and his knowledge over it being a hoax kicked in. But someone had added the audio to try and bypass that.

Hence why they had one woman dead and a police officer in hospital.

“What was she trying to access?” Gray rubbed at his head, shaking off what he felt. MI5 weren’t soft. Under Simon’s hands, they used their own memetic hazards to stop anyone gaining access to sensitive information, especially when it came to the internet. So he would more than recognise it too as he did the coding for those at government level.

“That was my question.” Simon thumbed at his phone, then brought up a file. “It’s helped having her laptop. She’d saved some file to her cloud storage, which I’m betting she wasn’t supposed to do. But it’s allowed me to follow download links and get into what she was looking at on the net.”

Gray clicked on the first file.

Chained to separate corners in the room, two men in their thirties with striking copper red hair and freckles shivered into their nakedness. A D-link clipped into another D-link made sure bruised and bloodied chins touched concrete as hands stayed bound behind their backs, leg spreaders making sure asses stayed up in the air. A man stood by one, a bomber jacket barely fitting his thick frame, where a young blonde woman of about eighteen kept the other twin company.

But the Dobermans they held by their collars?

Gray lost all taste for his coffee. “Our Red Room and one of their venues.”

Simon flicked it off as the dogs, all in full heat, fucked into the twins. “Seems our lovely mom of one had a… darker liking.”

Bestiality. Yeah, that was one of the darkest. Again a favourite liking of terrorists and degrading captives. “Has that come from the Controller himself? He used a memetic kill switch on her. Why?”

Simon flicked up another list. “Along with the downloaded recordings she stored, looks like she didn’t pay her bill for the See no Evil killers. In fact she tried to leave the server from what I’ve just found out.” He cocked a small smile, but it wasn’t happy. “But it brought up a lovely list of crypto addresses of anyone paying into it, including our two killers: Ferguson and his cameraman.”

Now that got Gray’s attention. “How’d you get names and physical addresses from cryptocurrency billing addresses so quickly?”

“Black magic,” said Simon. “In all honesty, I already had their banking details from their address here, plus the gamer tags they used. Noah really wasn’t the sharpest. He had a habit of filing paperwork under his mattress. We should be able to get a full list of names, punters and Red Room killers alike now I’m in their new server. It’ll take a few days, though. And hopefully that will include our Blood Eagle.”

Gray was impressed. He went to add something, but Jack came through, scratching at his head, and Simon flicked him a look as Gray closed the laptop. Simon shut his phone off.

“Martin?”

Gray gave a small smile away from Simon. That wasn’t Martin. Gray could tell them a mile apart, mostly in how Martin checked out a room before he entered. Jack looked Simon’s way, just briefly, but there was startlement to seeing him there.

“T’other less moody one who’s still got no fucking driving licence.” Then Gray stole his attention as he came over. He leaned down into a kiss, but Gray caught his arm to make sure he stayed in for another.

“Why are you back early?” said Gray. Unless someone was missing a limb, Jack didn’t cut work early too often. “Al’s supposed to notify Ray of any change.”

“You’ll let me breathe properly one of these days, I swear.” Jack frowned his anger off as he shifted over to a cupboard and pulled out painkillers. “I was talking to Jan on the phone, and that cough of his turned into the chills and ‘bubonic plague.’” He poured water from the machine into a glass. “Soft lad’s dying up there, even begged me to come and rescue him. God, that bloke’s got no staying power.”

Gray eyed Jack up. That didn’t sound like Jan, and with how Jack poured some heated soup into a bowl, placed it on a tray, added bread, along with spoon and orange juice in case Jan didn’t want water… yeah. It hadn’t been Jan who’d made the call to get him back to home shores. Jack had a big heart, and he didn’t even try to hide it as he winked over at Gray.

“I’ll leave you to it.” Simon pushed back from his chair, and Jack glared over his shoulder.

“Fucking do that.” As Simon flicked a look over at him, Jack seemed to check himself. “Sorry…. Just…. I’m ordering in tonight, so let me know what you and Light want. Jan’s not going to be up for cooking.” And his look warned Simon from going near Jan to even ask. But Jack seemed rattled. On edge.

“No problem, thank you.” Simon pocketed his phone as Gray frowned at Jack. Maybe it was to do with how strict Gray kept surveillance on them, but it seemed a little more than that. “I’ll go see what Light wants,” added Simon.

“Send me a text. Save your legs,” Jack said as Simon headed for the door. He got a nod back, then as the door closed, he came over with the tray. “Could you do us both a coffee, mukka?”

Gray looked up at him. “You trust me making a… coffee?”

He got another wink. “If you wanted me dead, you’d have done it long ago, up that alley.”

Gray snorted a smile and got to his feet as Jack made his way into the hall.

Two coffees in tow, Gray made it up to their bedroom and took them over to the bedside table. Apart from the pain meds and water, nothing on the tray had been touched as it slept dejected on the floor. Not that Jan didn’t look hungry. In fact, as he tried to sit up from in the mix of duvet and Jack, his look at the food more than cried out how hungry he was.

“Gray….” Jan tried to shove at Jack’s shoulders, but Jack took him back down, hands framing his face until Jan grinned. “I’m not that sick, you ass. It’s just a damn cold.” His sneeze proved it, and Jack ducked into his shoulder to avoid the onslaught.

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