Goulman and Gabriel were not the only ones experiencing the odd bout of insomnia. Douglas was still awake as well, and his mind was whirring with the seemingly insurmountable task of finding something to do.
There was a nagging urge in the back of his brain as he sat in the dark, quiet hospital room. His glasses were low on his nose.
He could take his laptop from his backpack, open it up. Peer back into the deeps, see what kind of rumors were making their rounds. People were talking. He knew it. Talking about the state of the Order. The paychecks kept coming as promised, but where was their leader, the fearless Thebes?
Douglas shifted in the rigid armchair and pushed up his glasses.
That fearless Thebes was a figure of the past. Thebes had been forced to look his worst fear square in the eye on the day he'd found Orion hanging at the mercy of that damned noose.
But the laptop. Douglas wanted to drop the Order, forget about all of it. Forget about Gabriel, Blue Whale, everything. Forget about everything but Orion, who was asleep in the hospital bed.
Of course, he might wake up, Douglas thought. His circadian rhythm is still off.
The laptop.
If he opened it, returned to the dark belly of the information superhighway, he'd ensnare himself.
But if he left it alone, tried to forget-- eventually it would all catch up with him.
It's just me, Douglas thought. Kate, Carmo, and Kavi-- they've all gone home. And Ri's asleep. For now.
He at least needed to check his emails. And the IRCs.
God. He'd never get away, would he?
Quietly, he emerged from the armchair and fetched his backpack, drawing out the laptop. No, he'd never get away. He knew this.
First he checked his email, and didn't find anything particularly important. Just the usual. Weekly reports, messages from the payroll crew. Automated notifications.
This made him nervous. Was there something going on that he wasn't seeing, something he didn't know about?
Of course there is, he told himself. There are wavering loyalties somewhere. When the leader disappears, they get scared. Some will stay, but others have probably starting running by this point.
Douglas looked up at the ceiling, took a deep breath.
How many of them have started running? Are they running to the markets or to the FBI?
When a hacking league begins to crumble, there are two types of people. The first type will wait it out to see what happens. The second type would quickly take their leave, leaping from a ship that may or may not be sinking. Sometimes these people would be called cowards.
And then there are three types of cowards. The first type would usually sell their information, similar to an Ask-Me-Anything thread on Reddit. "Hey, I was a member of Order 476. Wire me some crypto and I'll tell you everything."
The second type would scramble to talk to the police, for varying reasons. Some did this when they knew there would be no escape, and they wanted to bring someone else down with them. Others did this because they couldn't carry their conscience, couldn't keep ignoring the blood on their hands. Sometimes people spoke to the police because they wanted a cash reward.
The third type of coward was, in Douglas's opinion, the most favorable. These people deserted the operation, sure. But they kept their mouths shut, and their secrets died with them.
Now Douglas faced the question of: Who was who?
He turned his eyes back to his laptop screen. He needed to do some research.
Perhaps a return to headquarters was in order.
