Exploited
Page 14

We couldn’t trace IP addresses or pinpoint a location. Whoever he was had used at least a dozen proxy servers. The DDoS attack involved over a thousand computers owned by unsuspecting citizens who had no idea their systems had been compromised. Each of those computers had been used to overload Ryan Law’s website, crashing it momentarily. Then the hacker had brought it back up with very specific changes.
The firm had scrubbed the website clean, but not before the information plastered all over the home page was broadcast for all the world to see.
The allegations were serious.
It seemed Dominic and Jared Ryan had been very, very bad boys.
Freedom Overdrive wasn’t the only one who now had the FBI’s attention. A full-scale investigation would be launched against Ryan Law.
Extortion. Witness tampering. Money laundering across state lines.
It seemed my least favorite cracker had done the Bureau a favor by exposing some nasty people.
That didn’t change the fact that his tactics were illegal. And dangerous. So as much as I wanted to pat Freedom Overdrive on the back, I also wanted to catch his ass and throw him in jail for a long, long time.
If not just to get Agent Derek Sanders off my nut sack.
By about seven this morning I had been ready to bang my head into the wall. Agent Sanders was breathing down my neck and making my eye twitch every time he looked my way. He had shown up around the same time I had, if for no other reason than to drive me insane.
“I don’t need to tell you that if you can’t solve this case, Washington won’t be very happy. This is serious, Agent Kohler. Very serious. This has to be your priority.”
I tried not to slam my hands down on my keyboard, though my nails dug into my palms, most likely drawing blood. I plastered a fake smile on my face. “Yep. I get it, Chief. Now I should get back to it. After all, this is my priority.”
Perry, picking up on the I’d-like-to-murder-you vibe between Derek and me, watched us both with a morbid fascination.
After Agent Sanders walked away, my partner whistled low. “Wow, did you kill his dog or somethin’?”
I rubbed my temples, the aching headache a dull throb. “Why do you say that?”
“Agent Sanders is a hard-ass. Everyone knows that. He’s not what you would call the warm, fuzzy type, but even I’ve never seen him take such an intense dislike of someone before.” Perry took a sip of his coffee, watching me over the rim of his mug.
“Yeah, well, I’m not too fond of him either,” I muttered.
Perry pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. “You want one?”
I shook my head. “Nah. I’m going to get out of here for a few and get some breakfast. You want anything?” Perry shook his head so I grabbed my keys and got to my feet. I went to turn off my monitor and paused, staring at the line of numbers and letters tucked in discreetly toward the bottom of the frame.
12080512alwcaw.
To most people it wouldn’t mean anything. But I had been following Freedom Overdrive for a long time. And I recognized his signature. His stamp. His big, giant middle finger right in my face.
I knew that these numbers, these letters, they meant something.
They had been chosen for a reason. A significant one.
I knew that unlocking their meaning would help me find Freedom Overdrive.
A hacker’s digital signature was akin to a thumbprint. Completely personal. Unique.
The numbers could be dates.
They could be times.
They could be a goddamned address.
I ran my hand over my face, wishing I could scream. Guessing the reasoning behind the signature was like searching for a needle in a haystack.
Then something else caught my attention.
06050900.
It was buried just below the code I had been obsessing over. I had almost missed it entirely.
06050900.
Huh.
That was new.
What did it mean?
I bent closer to the screen, my hand hovering over the mouse. Maybe this was something I needed to look into further….
“Derek wanted me to give these to you.”
A pile of files was dropped on my desk, jarring my hand. I looked up from the numbers on my computer into Madison’s impassive face. She barely looked at me, her lips pinched, the vibe between us tense and uncomfortable.
If I was going to work in this office, I had to do something about the ongoing awkwardness. The guilt wasn’t so great either. Because even though I knew ending things with Madison had been the right thing to do, it didn’t change the fact that I had hurt her.
Madison turned to walk away and I reached out to touch her arm. Just briefly. She flinched and I instantly dropped my hand.
“Hang on a second, Maddie—”
“It’s Madison. Or Agent Armiger. Not Maddie,” she snapped.
“Okay, sorry. Madison. I just wanted to let you know that I truly am sorry about everything that happened.” She wouldn’t look at me. She was staring somewhere over my left shoulder, her mouth set in a thin line. Her jaw rigid. Her shoulders stiff.
“I acted like an ass. I didn’t mean to hurt you—”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is entirely unnecessary.” Madison waved a hand toward the files she had dumped on my desk. “Agent Sanders said those came in for you from the New York field office.”
Her perfectly manicured fingernails were digging into her palms. She looked as though she were chewing glass. Damn, she was pissed.
I picked up the top file. “Thanks for bringing these over. Look, we have to work together. I really think we should talk—”
Madison’s eyes finally flashed in my direction. Rage and fire. “Yes. We have to work together. That doesn’t mean I have to assuage your guilt by accepting your piss-poor apology.”
I opened my mouth but then closed it again, deciding speaking wasn’t in my best interest at the moment.
“You are a jerk, Agent Kohler. A grade-A asshole. There’s no way you can whitewash that.” She turned on her heel and stomped off, her blond hair swishing angrily behind her.
There was a snicker behind me. Chaz clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Damn, you sure do know how to make enemies, Agent Kohler.” He came to stand in front of me, crossing his arms over his chest, watching me levelly. “I guess that’s what happens when you dip your wick in the coworker pool. That’s why it’s a big no-no.” He dropped his voice and leaned in toward me as if we were a couple of gossiping girls. “But tell me, Mason, are those tits real? ’Cause damn, those beauties are perky.”