Page 58 of Whistleblower
“Why are you a snitch? Did you sell their tech to a competitor?”
“This next part is confidential. I could be put in jail for sharing this with you. But then again, this conversation is off the record because technically you shouldn’t be here, and my current organization doesn’t exist. And plus…I fed you Doritos, so…”
He half-smiles. “Secret’s safe with me.” He looks around the room. “Who would I tell?”
“I like what Empress stood for so much that I took a full-time role with them. The very first day I got executive access I came across a live bidding platform. I think they screwed up the permissions with my login credentials because I was dumped into this sort of online black market. What I eventually realized is that it was an information auction.”
“What information?”
“Anonymous avatars were buying groups of data for categories such as highly impressionable, prone to violence, open to conspiracy, racist, has a gun, committed petty crimes, violent felons, interested in radical behavior, politically outspoken, incentivized by money… Do you see where I’m going with this?”
“They were selling recruits to terrorists?”
Hector’s quicker to the truth than I was. I studied the database for hours before I understood what they were doing. The only thing scarier than people doing terrible things is people doing terrible things with an army of support behind them. Take the power of mob mentality—like cancel culture—and apply it to terrorism. What do you get? Civil war. Maybe even world war.
“We’d call them leads, but yes—same thing. They were buying personal information necessary to build what I can only assume were armies for their causes. They were targeting people…collecting people…all via social media.”
“Wow. Smart.” Hector attempts to stretch his legs, but he’s restricted by the rope around his ankles, binding him to the chair. “That’s not how I was recruited.”
“How?”
His stare lands on the floor. “My older cousin told me we were going to get beer from the gas station… Instead…we ended up at a meeting. They told me they’d kill me if I left.” He clears his throat. “So, you told on Empress?”
“I went to the exec team first and they denied everything. They fired me on the spot and cut off all my access. So, I went to the FBI.”
“I’m sure they gave you a medal.”
I let out a shrill cackle, like a villainess. “I got a half-assed ‘thank you.’ My real reward was debt up to my ears from legal fees trying to protect me from a company I helped build. I was basically in hiding during the trial. People threatened my life—they didn’t care if war was brewing, as long as they could keep their cushy Silicon Valley paychecks. I lost my job, my friends, my colleagues. I became a pariah. I lost everything and I still live in constant fear for my life. All because I told the truth and tried to prevent something truly evil.”
“But you’re okay now.”
“No…” I shake my head. “I’m not okay. I’ll never be okay again. I’m marked. Once a snitch, always a snitch. I’ll carry that title to my grave, but you know what I do to make me feel better sometimes?”
“What?” Hector lets out a dry cough. I return to him with the water bottle, offering him another sip. I level my eyes with his before I speak again.
“Lately, I’ll see a random person in a restaurant, or in my building, or sometimes just someone on the news, and I tell myself that maybe they get to live because of me. Maybe they won’t know true terror, or lose their loved ones to something as tragic as war because I was convicted enough to speak up. Maybe my life is ruined, but maybe theirs will be okay because of me. And for now, that’s enough.”
“You sacrificed everything for strangers?”
“Mhm,” I say. “The same way I’m pretty positive I just ruined, what could’ve been a very satisfying relationship, by coming in here to defend you—a criminal I’ve never met before because, sometimes, being a good person is just as senseless as being a bad one. But I’d rather see people alive and happy and think it’s because of me, than see people tortured and dead and know it’s because of me.” I raise my eyebrows right in Hector’s face. “The burden of information sucks. I wish I never saw that database. I wish I never knew. But do you know why God, or the universe, or whatever entity you believe in, chose me?”
He matches my gaze. “Why?”
“Because I was powerless not to do the right thing. The same reason you’re in this chair, Hector. You’re chosen too. And the only reason you’ve been listening to me talk all this time is because you want someone to tell you it’s worth it. Right? Or is it just because you want more chips?”
He chuckles, then his face sobers. “I never thought I’d be a person who could hurt somebody, I’m only nineteen.”
I knew he had a baby face. I nod. “Nineteen is young. You still have a lot of time left to atone for what you’ve done—to find a way to forgive yourself. You could start by looking at some of the strangers in this city and thinking maybe they’re okay because of you.”
“I won’t be in the city.” Hector nods toward the two-way glass. “They are going to lock me up.”
“Then serve your time and do better. Redemption is there for the ones who admit their mistakes and are courageous enough to make a change.”
I hold my breath hoping, praying. His eyes start to glisten and if it’s not now, it’s never. I’ve thrown every piece of wisdom I have at him…but it still might not be enough.
“Hector, please. What are they planning?”
“To hurt people,” he admits.