I stared at the screen, dumbfounded.
Bitcoin?
In 2003?
I skimd the paper again, making sure I wasn't mistaken. The more I read, the more it beca clear: this was a legitimate whitepaper of Bitcoin, outlining the basic principles of a digital currency system. But... it was published by Russian programrs?
No one in 2003 should have been anywhere close to coming up with Bitcoin. It was worked on maybe soti after 2005 and only released in 2008 or 2009, I don't rember exactly.
But this... I an... there were so cryptocurrencies even back in the late 90s that had a similar principle of cryptography to Bitcoin, but even then, why would they use the exact sa na?
Unless they were like .
Man, I was really trying to keep that theory out of my mind. But I can't refute it anymore...
Could there be others who had traveled through ti, just like I did?
Staring at this Bitcoin whitepaper, it seed like the only explanation that made sense.
If soone else has knowledge of the future, then they have the sa advantage I do.
They can manipulate events, investnts, and entire economies to suit their purposes.
The changes in the tiline, the shifting dynamics between China and the U.S. Possibly... Is a Chinese polytician or a USA polytician one of the travelers... or maybe both...
This scares the hell out of ...
This changes everything.
And what about this attack on —was it a Russian hacker? IT expert? Was he a part of so sort of mafia or an Oligarch family?
He could have found his way into an organization like that by offering his capabilities, his knowledge about cybersecurity and IT that far surpasses what people are aware of at this ti.
Were they now trying to take down because I was a threat to their plans?
Fuck, why can't things just be simple?
If there are others like , then achieving my goal will get way harder.
I was potentially facing other ti travelers with agendas that might be as ambitious—and dangerous—as mine.
I was taken aback, sitting in the chair, staring at the screen, not knowing what to think or what to do with that fact frankly. How to proceed from here?
How do I fight against soone who knows the future as well as I do? How should I protect myself and my family from a psychopath that seemingly won't stop at anything?
Lots of questions, not many answers...
I got up from my station.
Mark shot a look. "You're heading out already?"
"I've got urgent things to handle," I said flatly.
"This got anything to do with that crazy security Sam's throwing down?"
"Yes."
Without another word, I turned and left.
As I drove out of Orlando, the sun was starting to set. The silver Porsche humd beneath as the city faded into the rearview, replaced by the open highway to Gainesville.
My mind was tangled like a ball of yarn, but I continued on.
I got a call from Charlotte on the way because I was taking so long.
By the ti I got to Gainesville, it was late evening.
Finally, I pulled into the driveway and parked the Porsche in the garage.
As I opened the car door, Charlotte was already there, standing by the side of the car, arms crossed, and a worried, tired look on her face.
Without a word, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around tightly.
I held her for a mont.
"The cops were here," she said quietly, pulling back just enough to look up at . "They ca by about an hour ago."
I frowned. "Why didn't you tell that over the phone?"
She hesitated, her hands resting on my arms. "I just... I thought it would be better to explain everything face-to-face."
"Alright. Let's go inside."
"I made so tea," Charlotte said as we reached the living room. She motioned to the small tray on the coffee table, a teapot and two cups sitting there, steam still gently rising.
We sat down on the couch next to each other.
Charlotte poured the tea, and I took the warm cup in my hands.
"So," I said after a sip, "what did the police say?"
Charlotte set her cup down. "They told they confird the identity of the man who attacked . Supposedly, he was part of so small street gang... but the gang could have so connection to a larger organization.
They said that their higher-ups—I don't know who that is supposed to be, they didn't tell , but they said that they will be looking deeper into this and try to find the people behind this."
I nodded slowly.
"They also ntioned Mia," Charlotte said, her voice sharpening. "They told she's injured, Jack. That there is a large investigation going on around Sam. I didn't know any of this until they told . When did you want to tell ?!"
I could see the anger flash in her eyes.
"Charlotte, I—"
"You're driving all over the state, and you don't even bother to let know that Mia's in the hospital?"
"I was visiting my sister and my parents to let them know what's happening. I was going to tell you once I got here—I didn't want to worry you."
"Worry ? You think I'm not worried already? You think I didn't notice all the extra security around the house? I've been sitting here, Jack, waiting, wondering what the hell is going on..."
"I should have told you sooner. I'm sorry. There is just so much happening all at once..."
"I get it," she said. "I just... I hate feeling like I'm the last to know."
We sat in silence for a while. Finally, Charlotte let out a long breath. "The police are useless, by the way," she said, her tone shifting from anger to bitter frustration. "They were asking all these pointless questions—when do you usually get ho? Do you know anyone with enemies? Like, what the hell?"
I could hear the disdain in her voice.
"They have no clue what they're doing, Jack," she continued, her hands gripping the edge of the couch cushion. "They just sit there, nodding, pretending like they're going to do sothing about it, but they don't have a plan at all."
"They're trying," I said, my voice tight, "but I guess I can't rely on them. I need to think about how to solve this myself."
Charlotte blinked, clearly caught off guard. "What do you an, solve it yourself? You want to hire soone to track them. Jack... don't do anything stupid. We're not in so detective novel.
You will make things worse. They already put Mia in the hospital!"
She ran her hands through her hair and let out a long, exhausted sigh. "But why would anyone do this? What the hell did we do to deserve this?" she said, with her head down.
'How would she react if I told her the truth?' I thought.
DING! DING! DING!
The doorbell startled both of us.
Charlotte looked up with shocked eyes. "Did you expect anyone?"
"No. But don't worry. There are four security cars around the house," I said, getting to my feet. "There's no way soone would slip by without getting shot."
I walked up to the door, peering through the peephole.
Two n stood on the front step, both in dark suits. One was black, with short dark hair and a solid build. The other was white, bald, and slightly shorter. Behind them, I could see one of our bodyguards standing by.
I opened the door slowly, keeping my posture cautious.
They faced directly.
The black man, the taller of the two, held up a badge. "Good evening, sir. I'm Special Agent Mike Hastings, and this is my partner, Special Agent Jake Carter. We're with the FBI."
The bald man, Mike, gave a slight nod. "We'd like to ask you a few questions, if you have a mont."
I glanced back at Charlotte, who was now standing a few feet behind in her long, bright jeans and a white cotton sweater.
"Sure," I said, stepping aside. "Co in."
The two agents walked into the house, their eyes briefly scanning the room.
Charlotte and I exchanged a glance as I motioned to the living room. "We can talk in here."
They both followed into the living room, sitting down across from where Charlotte and I had been earlier.
Jake pulled out a small notepad, but it was Hastings who spoke again. "Thank you for seeing us. We're aware of the recent incidents involving your family and close associates. We've been assigned to investigate potential ties to organized cri or any other significant threats."
I leaned a little forward. "I appreciate you looking into it. So what exactly are you thinking this is? Did you find any clues?"
Hastings exchanged a glance with Carter before continuing. "The man who attacked Miss Rodriguez today, the one who was identified as part of a small street gang—there's reason to believe that this gang has connections to an international organization. Mr. Somnus, The fact that they are targeting soone with your resources and connections raises so serious red flags for us."
Charlotte shifted uneasily beside , her gaze flicking between the two agents and . "But Jack hasn't done anything to provoke sothing like this."
Agent Hastings leaned forward. "I must inform you that I'm directly involved with the FBI's international terrorism program," he said, seriously. "We have so targeted questions for you, Mr. Somnus. That's because this case may be a part of a much larger, more dangerous operation that we're currently investigating."
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