# Chapter 33:
GHOSTS IN THE WIRING
"Sorry, kid," Ray murmured, dropping his gaze, his voice heavy with grief.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Krist remained seated before his monitor, his expression unreadable. He didn't look shocked, nor did he appear particularly surprised. Instead, he gave a small nod, as though Ray had merely confirmed something he'd suspected for a long time.
"All right," Krist said calmly. "Let's assume you're right. Let's assume my parents—or, as most people would call them, your adopted parents—were murdered. What have you done about it?"
Ray slowly raised his head.
His expression changed.
"Krist, I know this is hard on you. No child should have to discover that someone deliberately destroyed their family." He paused, his voice growing firmer. "But don't you dare sit there and imply that I'm a suspect. I won't accept that from anyone, not even you. As you just pointed out, they were my parents too."
Krist smiled faintly.
"When did I say you were a suspect?"
"You didn't have to say it. The way you asked—"
"I'm asking what you've done with the information you have and whether you've made any progress identifying the people responsible." Krist's smile disappeared, leaving his face completely serious. "Nothing more."
Ray stared at him for a moment before releasing a tired breath.
"Look, Krist, I know you want answers. I understand that better than you might think. But I don't believe it's wise to tell you everything, especially when I'm trying to keep you out of this investigation."
He glanced at the disorganized desk in front of him.
"Besides, there's not much to tell. Every lead I've followed has ended in a dead end. Whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing. They covered their tracks so thoroughly that I've spent nearly two years chasing shadows."
Ray paused, then looked directly into the camera.
"There's something else I've been wondering about, though."
Krist raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"Ever since I told you their deaths weren't an accident, you didn't even blink. No shock, no denial."
Ray leaned closer to the screen.
"It's almost as if you already knew."
For the first time since the conversation had turned serious, Krist smiled.
"Took you long enough to notice."
Ray's expression froze.
"What?"
Krist leaned back in his chair, looking entirely too comfortable for someone discussing the murder of his parents.
"For this conversation to go the way I want, I think there's something I should tell you first."
He paused deliberately.
"I already know my parents' deaths weren't an accident."
Ray stared at him.
"I know who was responsible, and I need your help putting some of their accomplices behind bars. The same people who have been interfering in my life."
For several seconds, Ray didn't respond.
His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.
Then he leaned forward so abruptly that his chair creaked.
"Wh—what?"
Krist said nothing.
"How?" Ray demanded. "How do you know that?"
Ray stammered, his eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and alarm. "No—scratch that—*who* did it?!"
"The entire operation was bankrolled and directed by Vane Industries," Krist answered casually, leaning back against his chair as if discussing the weather. "As for the motive... Anyone with half a brain could figure out why a multi-billion-dollar corporate empire wanted my father's industry out of the way."
Ray's eyes narrowed as he considered the revelation.
"Vane Industries was one of my original suspects," he admitted. "I investigated them early in the case, but I couldn't find a single piece of evidence connecting them to the crash. No financial transactions, no suspicious communications, no direct link to anyone involved."
He shook his head slowly.
"Eventually, I had to rule them out."
"Then you ruled them out too soon."
Ray's gaze sharpened.
"Do you have evidence?"
Krist tilted his head.
"That's an interesting question."
"Krist, I'm serious."
"So am I."
Ray leaned closer to his camera.
"If Vane Industries was responsible for your parents' deaths, then this is no longer just a cold case. It becomes a criminal investigation with potentially enormous consequences. But I can't act on your suspicions alone. I need something concrete."
"Of course you do."
"Then show me what you have."
Krist shook his head.
"Not yet."
Ray frowned.
"What do you mean, not yet?"
"I mean i'm not answering another question of yours until i confirm whether you're actually going to help me," Krist said, crossing his arms.
"I mean I'm not answering any more of your questions until I'm certain you'll help me."
Ray stared at him in disbelief.
"You're negotiating with me?"
"Would you prefer that I call someone else?"
"Someone else?" Ray repeated. "Who exactly do you think you're going to find who cares more about this case than I do?"
"That's precisely what I'm trying to establish."
Ray opened his mouth to respond, but Krist continued before he could interrupt.
"You've spent nearly two years investigating my parents' deaths. I've spent considerably less time dealing with the people responsible for them. Yet here we are, and you're still looking at a wall full of photographs while I'm the one asking you for help."
Ray's expression darkened.
"Careful, kid."
"I'm being careful. That's why I'm having this conversation instead of blindly trusting someone just because we're family."
The words hung between them.
Ray's expression softened slightly, although the disappointment in his eyes remained.
"Fair enough," he said at last. "But if I heard you correctly, you said you wanted my help putting the people responsible behind bars. That means the people you're talking about were accomplices in your parents' deaths, correct?"
"Correct."
"Then you don't need to test whether I'll help you. I would have done it whether you asked me or not."
Ray straightened in his chair.
"Then you didn't need to play tactical games," Ray said softly, a dark fire lighting up his bloodshot eyes. "I would have hunted them down even if you never asked. I want everyone who had a hand in their deaths held accountable, whether they were directly involved or helped make it happen. I don't care how powerful they are, how much money they have, or how many people they know. If they're responsible, I'll do everything I can to make sure they answer for it."
For the first time, Krist's smile seemed genuine.
"I know you would."
"Then why all the suspicion?"
Krist shrugged. "if I hand over all my digital evidence first, I lose my leverage. Let's treat this like what it is: an intelligence trade. Your files for mine."
For several seconds, Ray said nothing.
Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face.
"Well, I'll be damned."
He shook his head, looking at Krist with a mixture of amusement and admiration.
"You really did inherit your father's brain."
Krist said nothing, but the faint smile remained.
Something had changed in Ray's eyes. Until that moment, he had been speaking to krist as though he were a child who needed to be protected from the truth.
Now, he was beginning to see someone who had already stepped into dangerous territory and was determined to understand exactly where he stood.
Krist might still be young, but he wasn't approaching this blindly.
He had a plan.
And Ray was beginning to understand that keeping him away from the investigation might no longer be possible.
"All right, then," Ray said. "Let's make a deal. You give me what you know, and I'll give you what I've uncovered. No unnecessary secrets between us."
Krist raised an eyebrow.
"That sounds suspiciously like an attempt to get me to reveal everything first."
"You're impossible."
"I've been told."
Ray sighed.
"Fine. You first."
Krist shook his head.
"No. You first."
Ray stared at him.
Then he laughed under his breath.
"Unbelievable. You really are your father's son."
He turned toward his laptop.
"All right, little negotiator. What do you want to know?"
"First, I want to know why you're convinced the crash wasn't an accident. Second, I want every piece of information you have about the case, including the identity of whoever you believe was directly responsible."
Krist picked up his phone and began tapping the screen, apparently preparing to record or organize the information.
Ray took a deep breath, reached over to his keyboard, and hit a sequence of commands. "The man in the files I'm about to send you is my prime suspect for the ground-level execution. I haven't cracked *how* he pulled it off remotely yet, but I know for a fact he used the specialized piece of hardware detailed in the second file."
"What pictures?" Krist asked, looking down as his phone remained dark.
"Oh, I haven't sent them yet. You'll receive them in about..." Ray leaned back, counting down with his hand. "...three... two... now."
He slammed his finger down on the enter key.
A series of high-resolution attachments popped up on Krist's screen. Krist opened the first image, and his brow furrowed. "Who is this?"
The files contained dozens of surveillance stills of a man captured across various city checkpoints—street-corner vendors, building lobbies, and municipal traffic cams.But every single angle shared a glaring, impossible anomaly: the camera lens had failed to capture the man's face even once. Hats, coat collars, turned heads, and strategic shadows obscured his identity in every frame.
"Did you filter these on purpose?" Krist asked, scrolling through the blanks. "Because I still have no idea what this guy looks like."
The man appeared in several different locations, wearing different clothes and carrying himself in slightly different ways. Yet every photograph shared one remarkably consistent feature.
**His face was never visible.**
In one image, he was turned away from the camera. In another, a passing vehicle blocked his features. In a third, the angle was too poor to identify him. Other photographs showed him with his head lowered, his face obscured by a hood, or the camera's view partially blocked by nearby objects.
Ray looked genuinely confused.
"What are you talking about?"
Krist gestured toward the images.
Look at them. I've gone through several photographs taken by different cameras in different locations, and I still can't identify the man. Not even one camera managed to capture his face clearly?"
Ray shook his head.
"That's exactly what I've been dealing with."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk.
"I don't know whether it's deliberate or just an extraordinarily unfortunate coincidence, but I haven't found a single usable image of his face. It's as if the man knows precisely where every camera is and how to avoid it."
Ray rubbed his forehead.
"Whoever he is, he either has exceptional training or someone has gone to extraordinary lengths to keep his identity hidden. And that's been one of the most frustrating parts of this entire investigation."
Krist studied the photographs in silence.
A person who appeared in several different locations without ever being properly identified was unusual enough.
But a person who could move through so many camera-covered areas without leaving a single clear image of his face?
That was something else entirely.
"What about the device?" Krist asked, bypassing the faceless man to look at the second data set.
The image displayed a circular, flat metallic casing—roughly the dimensions of a heavy industrial ceiling light, though elongated with a dense array of cooling fins and localized battery packs.
"That's a localized EMP-resonance jammer," Ray said grimly. "I believe it's the exact tool they used to blind the jet's avionics."
"How can you possibly be certain?" Krist leaned closer to the monitor, his eyes narrowing at the schematics.
Ray's expression became serious.
"Because I was the one who found it."
Krist stopped moving.
Ray continued.
"After the crash, I examined the wreckage myself. I found one of these devices in each of the plane's two engine compartments. Both had been disconnected by the time I recovered them, but their components were still intact enough for me to identify what they were designed to do."
He paused.
"They were jammers. And based on their placement, I believe someone used them to interfere with the aircraft's systems."
Krist leaned closer to his monitor, examining the device with renewed interest.
"You personally found both of them?"
"Yes."
"And you were at the crash site?"
"Of course."
Krist tilted his head.
"Then you must have noticed something unusual. If I'm not mistaken, suspicious people are easier to identify when you're standing in the same place as them."
Ray gave him a weary look.
"When I arrived, everything about that scene was suspicious."
"Such as?"
"Such as the fact that I wasn't even among the first group of people allowed into the area."
Krist frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that by the time I arrived, the site had already been secured, and access was restricted. There were officials everywhere, people moving around, and more confusion than I care to remember. I couldn't simply walk up to every person present and demand to know what they had been doing."
Ray leaned back.
"And before you ask, no, I couldn't identify the person responsible just by looking around. I didn't even know exactly what I was looking for at the time."
"By the time I bypassed federal perimeter security, everything was already compromised," Ray sighed.
Krist considered it for a while
Then he looked back at the photographs.
"All right. Now tell me what you know about the man."
Ray blinked.
"What I know?"
"Yes."
Ray gave him an incredulous look.
"Didn't I just show you everything I have?"
Krist stared at him.
"You've shown me a collection of photographs of a man whose identity you don't know and a picture of a device you believe was used to sabotage the plane. You've explained how you found the device, but you haven't told me anything about the man himself."
He gestured at the monitor.
"Who is he? Where did he come from? Who hired him? How did he get access to the plane? What connection does he have to Vane Industries?"
Krist paused.
"Unless, of course, you don't know the answers to any of those questions."
Ray's face tightened.
"Hey! Don't get smart with me."
"I'm not getting smart. I'm asking questions."
"You're asking them in a very irritating way."
"Would you prefer that I ask them in a less irritating way?"
"Yes!"
"All right. Who is the man in the photographs?"
Ray stared at him.
Krist waited.
Finally, Ray let out a frustrated sigh.
"I don't know."
Krist slowly closed his eyes.
"Unbelievable."
"Don't start."
"You've been investigating this case for nearly two years, and all you've uncovered is a faceless man and a strange device?"
"That's not all I've uncovered!"
"Then what else have you uncovered?"
Ray opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Krist shook his head.
"I thought you were ranked among the six best detectives in the city. Are you actually putting effort into this investigation, or is the competition so terrible that they've somehow mistaken you for one of the best?"
Ray's jaw dropped.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
"Krist, do you have any idea how difficult this investigation has been?"
"Apparently, I do now."
Ray pointed accusingly at the screen.
"You little—"
He stopped himself, took a breath, and tried again.
"Listen carefully, kid. Do you know how many detectives were assigned to this case? Several. Do you know how many of them eventually gave up because they couldn't find anything useful?"
Krist said nothing.
"All of them."
Ray spread his hands.
"Every single one eventually ran into a dead end. Some couldn't find a single credible witness. Others couldn't establish a clear timeline. And the rest couldn't even determine whether the crash was suspicious in the first place."
He leaned closer to the camera.
"Whoever organized this operation went to extraordinary lengths to erase the evidence. They closed off almost every possible lead before anyone even realized there was something to investigate."
Ray gestured toward the photographs on his laptop.
"So yes, I may have a faceless suspect and a device that I can't completely explain. But at least I have something. That's more than most people managed to find."
He paused.
"Now, instead of insulting me, you should be commending me."
Krist considered that for a moment.
"Fine. Congratulations on finding a man who apparently doesn't have a face."
Ray glared at him.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"A little."
"You're a menace."
"I've been told that too."
Ray shook his head, but a faint smile briefly appeared on his face.
Then something seemed to occur to him.
"Oh, wait. There's something else."
He immediately turned back to his laptop.
"I almost forgot to send you these."
His fingers moved rapidly across the keyboard.
A moment later, two more photographs appeared on Krist's screen.
Krist opened the first.
It showed a man wearing a Stark Tech engineering overall.
He opened the second.
Another man appeared, dressed in an identical uniform.
Krist examined both images carefully.
"Who are these two?"
Ray's expression became serious again.
"Those are the two lead turbine engineers who ran the pre-flight diagnostics on your parents' jet," Ray said. "They had direct clearance to the engine bays. They must have been the ones who smuggled the jammer inside."
"Well, that's progress," Krist nodded approvingly. "At least you have named targets. You can track them down, lean on them, and get confessions."
Ray's expression darkened into a grim shadow. "I can't lean on either of them. The moment the jet took off, both engineers vanished off the grid. A week later, we found the first one dumped in an alley just outside city limits—throat slit to the spine. And the second engineer?"
Ray let out a heavy, defeated breath. "He's still completely off the radar. Total ghost."