Page 90 of No Charm Done

“You sure?” Camo Cap asked, surprised.

“Not feeling it,” Elias lied.

“Smart,” said the kid as he raked in a pot he shouldn’t have won. “Sometimes you gotta trust your gut.”

Elias nodded at the lanyard hanging from the kid’s chest. “What’s the badge for?”

He puffed up like he’d been waiting for someone to ask. “Security. Got a gig just outside Kansas City. Pays great, but the hours are rough.”

“Aha. Overnight shift?”

“Worse. Rotating. Eight on, four off. Been pullin’ doubles all week ’cause they got this big event comin’ up.” He dealt the next hand with the confidence of someone who’d seen too many movies about poker and not enough actual poker. “But the overtime’s insane, so I can’t bitch too much.”

Elias picked up his cards. Garbage. “What kind of place?”

“Can’t really say. Signed like four NDAs.”

“NDAs?” Elias kept his voice casual, his attention on his cards.

“Non-disclosure agreements. Legal stuff. Basically means I’ll get sued into oblivion if I talk about work.” The kid grinned. “Which is why I definitely can’t tell you about the California freaks who flew in last week.”

The other players laughed. Elias folded his garbage hand and leaned back. “California freaks?”

“Tech consultants. Rich kids in fancy sneakers and ironic T-shirts.” The kid was warming to his story now, the NDAs apparently forgotten in his delight at having an audience. “CEO brought ’em in for some big-shit project. Get this, they were doin’ tricks in the break room. Like magic tricks? Sleight-of-hand stuff. Poof! Lights go out. Whole place smelled like burnt hair for two days.”

Camo Cap groaned sympathetically. “Goddamn hippie freaks.”

“You don’t know the half, my friend. But the CEO says it’s all part of this big Fourth of July launch. Some marketing bullshit. We’re on high alert through the holiday. Total lockdown on the fourth while the integration servers do their thing. But apparently they’re paying triple to work the holiday, so you know my ass’ll be there.”

Elias played another hand on autopilot, barely seeing his cards. “What’s . . . I mean, what exactly are you guarding? If you can say.”

“Server farm. You know, data center?”

It was abundantly clear from Elias’s expression that he did not, in fact, know.

The kid shrugged. “Big-ass warehouse full of computers, basically. That’s where the app lives—CastR, it’s called. Magic app, which is why they brought in those consultants doing their hocus-pocus shit.”

Camo Hat’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Magic?! What are you even talking about? What is this, some kinda toy?”

“That’s what I thought at first. But I dunno, man, the shit these consultants get up to? I’m starting to get converted, if you know what I mean. You can bet I’ll download that thing—that’s for damn sure. See if I can get my ex to take me back. Love spell or some crap like that.”

“Huh.” Elias tried to look like any of this made sense. He knew what a warehouse was, at least. But beyond that, things got fuzzy. “So, um. I thought CastR was on the, uh, you know . . . the handheld device.”

The kid laughed. “The handheld device?! You’re a weird dude—you know that? Anyway, yeah. The app itself is on people’s phones—that’s the word you’re looking for, man, phones—but the servers are what make it work. Like . . .” He fumbled for an analogy. “Like, you got electricity in your house, right? But the power plant’s somewhere else. Same thing with this. The data center is sorta like the power plant for the app.”

Oh. Understanding clicked into place with sickening clarity. Vex’s Oak Haven demo would serve as a sort of light switch. But the real power came from the plant, from this farm the kid kept talking about. Luna and her sisters could smash the proverbial light switch but the electricity would still flow. Did it even matter, ultimately, if the Melroses made Vex look like an idiot? So what if Vex was humiliated or if some investors lost their shirts? Would any of that stop Burke?

Elias knew the answer from experience.

If this server farm was still running, the app would still launch.

“And just wait, it gets crazier,” the kid continued, oblivious to Elias’s dawning horror. “They got us super, super paranoid about sabotage. Even put these weird symbols on all the equipment.”

“Symbols?”

“Yeah, like . . . etched into the metal? They’re super, super paranoid about sabotage. They brought in these weird dudes, did it all in the middle of the night. One morning I show up and the servers were, like, fucking covered in these etchings. Voodoo shit.” He laughed. “I was like, seriously? Who the hell’s gonna sabotage some goofy demo? And yet I signed four NDAs over it. Shit’s crazy, man.”

Elias folded a hand he could’ve won and stood. “Gentlemen, I need some air.”