Victor was dragged to wakefulness with a startled grunt and then a quiet groan of pain as he dislodged his glasses from his face. He sat up, bleary-eyed, confused, peering at Randall, who was in the middle of eagerly thumping Jed on the back. It seemed that Randall hadn’t fallen asleep like the rest of them. Disheveled was probably the kindest word that could be applied to him right then, but Victor found himself smiling stupidly at the stubble on Randall’s jaw, the way his hair was sticking out everywhere, the tiredness on his face that was only barely edged out by the excitement. “What the fuck?” Jed was eloquent, as always. He’d apparently fallen asleep on Randall’s legs at some point. Now he was blinking groggily, scrubbing his hands across his face in some vain effort at waking up. “The holding company. I found it.” Randall thumped the laptop down on the table, climbing into the chair next to Victor, grinning. “I traced it back through stockholder reports for the past ten years.
