The ghost at the table – Draft 03 – Chapter 22

Logan

The wind cut through the eucalypts, rustling their leaves like whispers of conspiracy. I waited, back against the rough bark. This was the meeting spot—far from town, where the only eyes belonged to kangaroos and the odd wedge-tailed eagle circling above.

“Logan?” Her voice sliced the silence.

“Over here,” I called out, stepping into view. Stephanie McBride, my new ally in a game that could chew us up.

“Nice choice for a covert meet-up,” she said, scanning the area, her brown hair tied back, practical.

“Best I could do on short notice.” My hands were in my pockets, playing with the lint I’d found there. “So, what have you got?”

She pulled out her phone, swiped a few times, and handed it to me. Names, faces, and dirty laundry of Adelaide’s underbelly stared back at me. “This is the network,” she said. “These guys are the big fish.”

“Looks like a regular who’s who of scumbags.” My thumb scrolled through the information. These were the types you didn’t want to owe money or favours.

“Exactly. And they’re slippery. But with your… expertise, we might just be able to nail them.”

“Expertise?” I looked up, caught her eye. There was a hint of something there. Doubt? Hope?

“Listen, Logan.” She stepped closer, urgency tightening her voice. “I’ve seen what these people can do. They’re not just thieves; they’re destroyers. Lives, families, futures—nothing’s off-limits.”

“Sounds like my kind of crowd,” I said, though bile rose in my throat. I knew firsthand what it was like to be on the receiving end of life’s gut punches.

“Can you do this?” Her question hung between us, heavy as the humid air.

“Can and will are two different things, Steph.” I met her stare. We both had our demons, but hers wore suits and sipped lattes while the world burned.

“Look, I’m not here to make friends, but I need someone with your skills. Adelaide needs someone who’s not afraid to dig into the muck.”

“Digging’s easy when you’ve been living in it.” I tossed her phone back. “All right. Let’s take down some bad guys.”

“Thank you.” Relief softened her features for a moment before she slipped back into her role. “We need to be careful, though. They’ve got eyes everywhere.”

“Then we’ll be ghosts.” I cracked a half-smile. It was time to see if the keyboard could be mightier than the sword—or the syndicate.

“Let’s get to work.” She was all business again, determination set in her jaw.

“Lead the way,” I said, and we moved off, two silhouettes swallowed by the encroaching dusk, bonded by purpose.

The screen’s glow was the only light in the room. Fingers flew across the keyboard, dancing a staccato rhythm. I was in. Lines of code scrolled like a high-speed chase down the monitor. I hunted for the truth hidden in the digital alleys of the syndicate’s network.

“Anything?” Stephanie’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and focused.

“Tracks everywhere.” I didn’t look up. “Just need to follow the right ones.”

She hovered behind me, a silent sentinel. I could feel her gaze, heavy with the weight of what we’d undertaken. This wasn’t just a job; it was a mission. Friendship and survival entwined like the wires that ran beneath our feet.

“Be careful,” she said, a mantra against the darkness.

“Always am.” A lie. Careful was something else. Someone else. But with her, caution felt possible.

Sounds of my past life ticked in my ears—the military precision, the commands, the control. Here, now, it was just me and the keys. And Stephanie.

“Got something.” My heart hammered. A file—names, dates, transactions. The evidence we needed. “This is it.”

“Good.” She was on her phone, whispering, connecting dots of her own with people who still wore badges. “I’ve got us backup. Legal’s on standby.”

“Backup’s good.” Trust didn’t come easy, but hers I could count on. It wasn’t the uniform that made the cop; it was the person wearing it. Stephanie wore hers better than most.

“Logan.” Her hand touched my shoulder. “You’re not alone in this.”

“Never thought I was.” With her, the loneliness that had stretched over miles of isolation seemed to shrink. Even here, far from the city’s pulse, friendship found a way.

“Then let’s finish this.” Determination in her eyes mirrored my own.

“Finishing it.” I cracked knuckles, a prelude to the final act.

We were two against a legion, but numbers never told the whole story. We had right. We had each other. And sometimes, out here, that was enough.

The screen flickered. A wall of code met my eyes, an unwelcome sight.

“Damn,” I muttered, fingers stilling on the keys. “They’ve got a gatekeeper.”

“Trouble?” Stephanie’s voice, sharp as her intellect.

“Big trouble.” I squinted at the digital fortress before me. “Cybersecurity team. They’re pros.”

“Can you break through?” There was no tremor in her words, only steel.

“Maybe.” Honesty was all I had. “It’ll take time we don’t have.”

She paced, phone to ear, then snapped it shut. “We need another way in.”

“Agreed.” My mind raced, sorting possibilities like cards in a deck. “Their HQ. We hit them where they live.”

“Direct.” She liked direct. “Risky, though.”

“Life’s risky.” I shrugged off the fear, let confidence seep through. “I can disable their security from the inside. Create a window.”

“Then I’m your shadow.” Stephanie squared her shoulders. “In and out before they know what hit ‘em.”

“Okay.” Plans formed, pieces aligned. “You keep watch. I’ll do the dance with their systems.”

“Watching’s my talent.” A ghost of a smile crossed her lips.

“Let’s dance then.” I stood, ready.

“Let’s.” Her nod was all the agreement I needed.

Friendship wasn’t just about the laughs and beers. It was about standing shoulder to shoulder when the storm came howling. Right now, the storm was us, and hell hath no fury like two friends scorned by injustice.

My fingers flew over the keyboard, a blur of motion. The code on the screen danced to my tune, twisting through digital defences. I could feel the pulse of the mainframe as if it were alive. It was a beast, but beasts can be tamed.

“Got it,” I grunted, voice low.

The screens blinked. Alarms silenced before they could scream. Stephanie’s window was open, brief and clear. She slipped through the shadows, ghost-like. My heart thrummed. Success tasted sweet.

“Stephanie, you’re clear,” I said, eyes never leaving the monitors. “Go.”

“Copy that.” Her voice crackled in my earpiece.

The HQ sprawled like a spider’s web, rooms upon rooms, hallways splitting and merging. Stephanie knew her stuff. She moved with purpose, a sliver of darkness against the sterile lights. Each corner turned, each door breezed past, she was the silence among chaos.

“Left. Now right,” I directed, her eyes in the labyrinth. Guards passed, clueless. Cameras blind to her dance. This was our ballet, our symphony played out on a stage of steel and wire. We moved in sync, a duet of determination.

“Almost there,” she whispered.

“Keep going,” I urged. Sweat beaded on my brow. Not from heat, but from fire within. The fire to finish what we started. To not let them win. To stand by her side even miles apart.

“Another left,” I said. “Then straight.”

“Got it.”

We were more than friends. We were comrades, allies in a fight larger than us. Together, we were a storm against their fortress. They didn’t stand a chance. Not against Stephanie. Not against me. Not against us.

“Logan,” she breathed, a hint of triumph in her tone. “I’m in.”

“Good.” A smile cracked my face, rare as rain in this dry land. “Now find what we came for.”

“Count on it.”

This was it. The moment of truth. Our friendship, our bond, would see us through. Or so I hoped. In rural Australia, where the sky’s as vast as the ocean and secrets hide in plain sight, it’s all you can do to trust in the person at your side. And trust I did.

The screen glowed. My fingers danced over keys, commands flowing like rapid-fire. Eyes on every pixel that represented Stephanie’s progress. Her safety was my mission now.

“Turn right,” I said, voice low. “Door at the end.”

“Seen.” Her reply, crisp and sure.

My heart hammered, not from fear, but focus. Each beat a drum of war against those hidden in digital shadows. We were close, so damn close.

“Room’s ahead,” she murmured. “Looks like the jackpot.”

“Go in. Quick and quiet.” My words were bullets, sharp and direct.

Stephanie moved, a shadow among shadows. The command room’s door creaked open on her entry, a tell-tale whisper of victory. She slipped inside, unseen.

“Logan,” her voice crackled with static and adrenaline. “You should see this.”

“Describe it to me.” I leaned into the mic, eager for her report.

“Files, Logan. So many files.” Her breath hitched with excitement. “Bank transactions, deals, names. It’s all here.”

“Copy everything.” I felt the thrill, a surge of vindication. “We need all of it.”

“Copying now.” The clack of her keyboard was music—a symphony of justice.

I watched the bytes transfer, a cascade of information that could cleanse the rot from this land. This was bigger than us, bigger than Meningie or Adelaide. It was about righting wrongs, no matter where they hid.

“Done,” she said at last, satisfaction lacing her tone.

“Get out of there.” Firm and final. “Meet me outside.”

“En route.” Her silhouette exited the command room on my screen.

Through the tendrils of cybernetic webs, our bond had solidified. Friendship, partnership—it was our lifeline in the vast, open expanse of rural Australia. In a place where the horizon kisses the sky in an endless embrace, we had each other’s backs.

“Coming out now,” she confirmed, breaking through the silence.

“See you soon.” My voice steady, a rock in the stream.

We didn’t just survive. We thrived. Together, we were more than the sum of our parts. We were the resistance, the truth-seekers, the friends who stood tall when the world tried to bring us down.

And as I shut down the terminal, erasing our digital footsteps, I knew we’d made a difference. We stood against the storm, shoulder to shoulder, and we did not falter. Not today. Not ever.

The door swung open with a whisper. Stephanie stood still, hand hovering over the evidence. Her breath was a ghost in the charged air.

“Ms. McBride,” rumbled a voice, slick as oil on water.

I tensed. It was him—the syndicate’s leader. His shadow stretched across the room like a dark promise.

“Didn’t expect company,” she said. Cool. Collected.

“Nor did I,” he replied, stepping into the light. A grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Especially not from law-abiding citizens.”

Her stance shifted. Ready to run. To fight. I watched through the lens of a camera, helpless.

“Let’s talk,” she offered.

“By all means.” He gestured, a wolf inviting the lamb to parley.

“Your operations are done,” she pressed. “We have everything.”

“Optimistic.” His laugh, a low growl. “But you’re missing the human element, Ms. McBride.”

“Which is?”

“Me.” He took a step forward.

She matched him, one back. “You’re one man.”

“Yet here we stand.” Another step. “And you’re alone.”

“Am I?” She threw back.

“Logan’s good,” he conceded. “But not invincible.”

“Neither are you.” Defiant.

“True.” He paused. “But I am here, and Logan is not.”

“Maybe he is,” she countered. “Maybe you just can’t see him.”

“Perhaps.” A shrug. “But it’s you I see, Stephanie. Only you.”

“Then see this.” Firm. Unyielding. “We won’t stop.”

“Admirable.” He nodded. “But foolish.”

“Depends on your perspective.”

“Mine is quite clear.”

“Mine too.” She edged towards the exit. “Clarity comes with conviction.”

“Conviction can be shattered,” he warned.

“Not mine.” Steadfast. “Not ours.”

“Ours?” A brow raised.

“Partnerships,” she stated. “They matter.”

“Indeed.” A flicker of doubt in his eyes. “They change games.”

“Change outcomes.” She was near the door now.

“Stephanie,” he called out, a last attempt to sway.

“Goodbye.” She slipped into the shadows.

“Until next time,” he promised to empty space.

“Count on it,” she whispered, already gone.

Friends matter. In the townships scattered like seeds in the dust of Australia, they’re everything. The bond between us, unseen but unbreakable, was her shield. My blade.

Silence settled. The standoff had ended. For now. But the war? It raged on. And together, we’d fight it. Shoulder to shoulder. Always.

I see her silhouette flicker. She’s cornered. Heart races. Fingers fly across the keyboard. A cybersecurity maestro conducting an invisible orchestra. I’m in. Security feeds glitch. Alarms wail. It’s showtime.

“Go, Steph,” I whisper into the comm.

She moves. A shadow among shadows. The screens around me blur, my focus narrows. Cameras spin wildly. Guards scramble. Confusion is our ally. My code dances through their systems. It’s a tango with danger.

“Left corridor, now!” Commands come easy.

“Got it.” Her voice, steel wrapped in velvet.

The building layout etched in my mind. Each step she takes, I’ve mapped out. Time slows. Adrenaline pumps. It’s all on this. All on us.

“Stairwell to your right,” I guide.

“Ascending,” she confirms.

My hands are tools; they fix, they break, they protect. A digital knight for my partner in crime-fighting. The syndicate’s labyrinth becomes our playground.

“Top floor clear,” I say. “Move.”

“Clear,” she echoes. Steps soft but swift.

“Security disabled.” I smirk. “Your exit’s open.”

“Roger that.” Her breath, even.

Minutes stretch longer than the dry plains back home. This isn’t Meningie. No wide skies, just the suffocating walls of corruption we’re tearing down. But like back home, trust is everything. Without it, you’re as good as dust.

“Three guards ahead,” I warn. “Distraction incoming.”

“Waiting,” she says.

The lights flicker. A symphony of chaos orchestrated by keystrokes. She slips by. Unseen. Undetected. We’re doing it. Together.

“Out the back door,” I direct.

“Out,” she confirms.

The line goes dead. Silence screams in my ears. Did she make it? Seconds crawl. Then, the back door bursts open. Stephanie steps into the night air. Victory in her eyes. Evidence in her hands.

“Logan,” she breathes out, relief painted on her face.

“Steph.” I can’t hide the smile.

We stand outside the belly of the beast. Concrete fortress looms above. Its secrets pilfered by us. By friends. In this desolate place, mateship isn’t just a word; it’s life or death.

“Nice work in there,” I nod towards the building.

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” she admits. “Your hacking…”

“Was nothing,” I cut in. Humble. “It’s what partners do.”

“Friends,” she corrects. A bond acknowledged.

“Right. Friends,” I agree.

We’ve got the goods. The evidence to blow this wide open. But at what cost? We’re marked now. Targets. The outback’s vastness offers no cover from this storm.

“Next steps?” She’s all business.

“Get this to Andy,” I suggest. “Let The Advertiser sing.”

“Then?” Worry creases her brow.

“Then we brace,” I say. “They’ll come after us.”

“Let them,” she stands tall. “We’re ready.”

“Are we?” Doubt nips at me.

“Have to be,” she says.

“Right.” I match her resolve.

The chill of the night seeps in. We’re two souls against an empire. Two friends against the odds. Out here, in the quiet darkness, it’s clear. Friendship isn’t just about survival.

It’s about winning.

“Ready?” Stephanie’s voice cuts through the silence.

“Let’s do it,” I reply. The night holds its breath. We’re in too deep to back out now.

“Promise me, Logan.” Her eyes are steel. “We see this through.”

“Every last byte and bullet,” I swear. The pact is sealed. Not just words. A vow.

“Even if it costs us everything?” she asks. A whisper of fear.

“Especially then.” I meet her gaze. We’re warriors in a digital age. Crusaders against the corruption.

“Good.” She nods, resolute. “Because we might pay dearly.”

“Then we’ll be heroes or ghosts.” My laugh’s hollow. But it’s truth.

“Heroes,” she insists.

“Damn right.” I clench my fist. The evidence feels heavy in her grip. Heavy with hope.

“Tomorrow, we start fresh. New plans. New angles.” Stephanie’s mind races ahead.

“Against old demons.” I’m ready for the fight.

“Exactly,” she confirms. “We dismantle their network, piece by piece.”

“Until it crumbles.” I can almost taste the victory.

“Until they have nowhere left to hide.” Her determination is contagious.

“Count on it.” I’m already plotting algorithms and firewalls.

“Be careful, Logan.” Concern flickers in her eyes.

“Always am.” A lie. But she doesn’t need to know that.

“Time to part ways,” she says. It’s inevitable.

“Guess so.” I can feel the solitude creeping in.

“Thank you, Logan. For everything.” Gratitude. Respect.

“Back at you, Steph.” I nod. Comrades in arms.

“Take care of yourself.” She steps away. Distance grows.

“Will do.” The lie comes easy.

“Goodbye, Logan.” She turns.

“See ya, Steph.” My throat tightens.

She fades into the darkness. Alone again. I watch until she’s nothing but a shadow. Then I turn my back. The night swallows us both.

A promise made. A friend gone. The world’s a bit colder. But the fight goes on.

Boots crunching gravel, I stride into the night. The air’s crisp. Stars mock city lights with their ancient glow. I’ve been through hell, but I’m walking out on two feet.

The path is dark, familiar. Stephanie’s a shadow now. A memory soon. Her words linger, though—heroes or ghosts. I chuckle. Ghosts don’t have footprints.

My hands are calloused, not just from keyboards. Life’s been a fistfight. I remember the RAAF. Commands barked. Dreams shelved. Spirits crushed. They said no to pills, to relief. So I said no to them. Walked away. Never looked back. Until now.

Stephanie brought me back. Her courage. Her fight. She thinks I’m brave. Maybe I am now. Wasn’t before. Hiding behind screens, coding in silence. But then the Syndicate crossed the line. People got hurt. Enough was enough.

I think of our plan, the pact. It’s more than a mission. It’s redemption. For every keystroke in the shadows, for every wrong we’re righting. My sins feel lighter. The burden’s shared.

Hacking used to be a game. Numbers and puzzles. Now it’s war. Pixels and data against flesh and blood. These criminals, they’re smart. But I’m smarter. Had to be. Survival.

The night breeze carries whispers of eucalyptus. Home. I’m far from the base now, from the sterile halls, from the doctor’s cold stare. Meningie’s quiet streets are my haunt. My battleground.

I pull my collar up. Not just against the chill. It’s armour. Against past judgments, against sneering faces. Acne scars are my medals. Earned in a different kind of service.

We touched fire tonight, Steph and I. Stole it from the gods. Like Prometheus. We’ll bring light, expose the darkness. Even if it burns us. Especially then.

“Keep fighting,” I murmur. To the stars, to Stephanie, to myself. The weight of evidence is nothing compared to the weight of apathy. Of giving in. Won’t happen. Can’t.

There’s hope in my chest. It flutters. A bird in a cage that’s just discovered the door’s been left open. I can breathe. Redemption tastes like fresh air, feels like freedom.

My steps echo. The road stretches. Empty. Tomorrow, we start fresh. New plans. New angles. I’m ready. Friendship taught me that. You survive together. Or not at all.

“See ya, Steph,” I whisper to the wind. She’s out there somewhere. Fighting still.

I walk on. Alone. But not lonely. There’s work to do. Battles to win. A future to shape. And damn it, I’m shaping it my way.