THE THOUSAND DOLLAR MURDER: Colt Ryder uncovers a terrifying snuff-film operation, in his most difficult mission yet . . . by J.T. Brannan

Author:J.T. Brannan [Brannan, J.T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grey Arrow Publishing
Published: 2017-07-31T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

We’d finally hit the sack when the sun was already starting to come up, and the sleep had done all of us good. After the night we’d had, we’d definitely needed it.

It was late afternoon now, and Mickey and I were at his friend’s place. Ryan hadn’t made it this time; he’d not been in any fit state to be out and about and – ignoring his protestations – I’d demanded that he stay at Mickey’s, with Kane to keep him company.

And after seeing what I’d just seen, he should be grateful he hadn’t come; because Mickey’s friend had delved into the dark web and come up with the sickest shit I’d ever seen. I didn’t know how he’d done it – he’d tried explaining it to me, but it had gone straight over my head – but I knew his methods had even impressed Mickey, who seemed to be taking notes.

The man’s name – or at least the one that he gave me – was Ethan, and he was a whole lot younger than Mickey, although I didn’t make a joke out of it. Given what we were going to try and find, it somehow didn’t seem right.

From what I could gather, he was a tech genius – he’d won a scholarship to MIT, got into trouble during his second year when he’d hacked into the mainframe of the National Security Agency using university resources, and had then dropped out, only to be recruited by the same NSA a few months later. He’d been working for the whole alphabet-soup of US military, intelligence and law-enforcement agencies for the past three years – and it was through these connections that he’d been introduced to Mickey – and during a lot of that time, he’d been tasked with accessing the dark web. It was mostly counter-terrorism stuff, but he had practical, hands-on experience of how this secret world operated that enabled him to find things that ordinary joes like us would never even know where to look for.

He’d found various unpleasant sites during the six hours we’d been camped out in his house – a modest two-bed whitewashed home that nevertheless had fantastic views out over the Atlantic – but it had taken him until now to find rtk.onion.

The three of us had watched with growing horror as Ethan probed the site, finding various online videos of graphic scenes too disturbing to even think about; I was already trying to forget what I’d seen, and we hadn’t even found the key film yet. We hadn’t seen any livestreams, there was – mercifully – nothing current going on right now, but there was a backlog of previous “projects” that were accessible, if you had enough Bitcoin to spare.

Apparently, Ethan had all the virtual money he needed, gifted to him by various government agencies for ongoing “research”, and he was able to access these videos at will.

And now, we had finally stumbled onto what we’d been looking for. It had seemed fairly

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