A direct lie. I knew he was responsible, but I didn't know why. It was my other power, the ability I inadvertently acquired from Pete. Before I knew the dangers of being with other enhanced.
"I think we both know that's not true, Tad." My eyes met his hard, critical gaze. "Why'd you do it? Was it for money?"
"Do what?" He attempted a casual chuckle, but he was too nervous to pull it off. "I don't know what you think you found, but you'll have a hard time proving it. My machine got infected, just like the rest."
He narrowed his eyes at Brandon. "Because of your subpar security."
Brandon's mouth fell open. "Wait a minute, you can't assume—"
"I'm going to recommend we get a real security person to replace you immediately." Tad straightened his posture, seeming more confident. I couldn't wait to knock that smug smile off his face.
And I didn't have to wait very long. Brandon got a call back from the surveillance office, and they routed the footage we requested to my laptop.
We watched for a few minutes before the timestamp, and the office was vacant. But then Tad came in and sat at his desk.
"Hmmm, that kinda looks like him, doesn't it, Brandon?" I said.
Brandon only nodded; his gaze glued to my monitor.
On the video, Tad ran his fingers through his hair, grasping the ends, as if he were stressed out. He stood and looked out his window. Then he settled back down at his desk. We couldn't see exactly what he was doing on his computer, but it matched the timestamp on the file exactly. He left shortly afterwards.
"Oh my God," Brandon murmured. "I knew my network was secure!"
"This proves nothing," Tad said, his arms folded against his chest. "I-I was simply working on a spreadsheet at home and I wanted to upload it here afterwards."
"And you came all the way into work to do that?" I asked, looking at him as if were the stupidest end user I'd ever met. "Ever heard of email? Network drives? I would think even a CFO would understand such concepts."
He had the audacity to smirk at me. "If that's all you have..."
I smiled back. "I'm not done with my investigation yet. Once I get a closer look at your box, I just might have something more..."
I returned to his desk chair and was about to resume my work, when Tad stomped toward me. "Get away from my computer!" He grabbed my arm. "You have no right."
I was about to yank my arm back from Tad, when Brandon spun him around.
"Lay off her. She's only trying to find out what happened. Which is what we're paying her to do." Brandon kept his gaze steady on Tad, as if waiting for him to try something. I too, held off, wondering what his next move would be.
"This is ridiculous! We don't know anything about her. What if... What if she plants something in there?" Tad's frantic gaze switched back and forth from Brandon to me. He was full-on back to panicked mode, which only made me more curious about what evil little secrets I would unearth on his machine. I positioned my laptop closer to his tower, so I could covertly touch it without either of them seeing.
A recent bank transfer, a lot of private browser sessions. Most of what I found came from a remote laptop that was VPN'd into his tower, which I guessed was his personal machine at home. A special web browser to access the dark web. I had a program to look for known darknet sites and parse both email content/meta data and addresses for keywords. It got a few hits, and I cringed when I saw the names. Known pornography sites, of the variety that get you federal time.
"You weren't the one receiving money," I said. "You were the one giving it. To keep them quiet about the illegal sites you visit. A high-profile CFO such as yourself was an easy target."
Tad sighed a kind of deflated sigh. He plopped down in one of the chairs in front of his desk and rested his head in his hands. It only concurred with my hypothesis—the hacker must've seen Tad's extracurricular activities and blackmailed him.
"I don't understand," Brandon said. "If they didn't penetrate our network... If Tad uploaded the threat himself, then how did they know about his history?"
That was a harder question to answer—without my ability to communicate with computers, the information would have been impossible to glean, even with a VPN tunnel—no existing software was capable of that. But I was a contractor. And good contractors are capable of magic.
"I found the evidence on his personal laptop via the VPN connection. I developed a software that can extract it remotely." I hoped it sounded plausible.
I put on a confident face as I handed Brandon the jump drive with all the pertinent information. "Here you go. All the evidence you need."
Brandon blinked a few times as he took the USB drive from me, his eyes technically in my direction, though he wasn't really looking at me. "I can't believe... B-but you can still stop this attack, right?"
"It's going to take some time to push out all the fixes," I said. "Do you have a list of priority machines? I can work on those first."
I took another sip from that amazing coffee, while Brandon provided that list and made a few calls. A couple of guards came shortly after to take Tad away. Then a slew of executives I'd met earlier joined us. I explained everything to them, including Tad's little "hobby." Once the shock wore off, they thanked me, and then asked for a time estimate. Again. I knew it would take most of the day and night too. We'd be lucky to get it all done before the expiration. But I set up an interface to mess with the hackers, if they tried to access the network. Which I was certain they would, after I got the website back up and running.
Stacey was awesome at keeping me fed and hydrated. She brought me breakfast, lunch and dinner, all from upscale restaurants downtown, as I worked through the code of my programs to accommodate their environment. There were a couple of machines that needed more code customization, especially at the onset. But after the first few critical oddball machines, it was simply a matter of letting the program do its work. And I was exhausted. I let Brandon know I needed some fresh air, and he gave me directions to a nearby park.
It was so quiet, as I walked around the serene lake. Nobody around, no technology taunting me, just an occasional duck and squirrel. The sunlight faded, and I wondered what time it was, if I should be heading back.
Then I noticed a man with a dog in the distance, on a park bench. As I approached, I got a better look—his beard was clean-cut and the suit he wore appeared to be custom tailored, not at all who I would expect to find on a park bench at dusk. The dog was a medium-sized white terrier-looking mutt and she seemed friendly enough. Plus, I was in Georgia, the likelihood of me encountering a serial killer in the nicer part of Atlanta was remote.
"Excuse me, do you have the time?" I asked the man.
The dog started wagging her tail like crazy and leaning her front paws on the back of the bench to get close enough to lick my face.
"Time?" he said.
I smiled and pet the dog. It was nice to have someone so excited to see me. As I turned my attention to the man, I was struck by this odd feeling. The best way to describe it would be calming, like the feeling you get in a relaxing bath.
He seemed a bit confused, but I could sense he had a phone in his possession. Cells were the worst for sending out loud vibes.
"You have a cell phone, can you tell me the time, please?" I didn't know what to think of the strange sensation that came over me. But I knew it was a distraction, and if he didn't answer soon, I'd just leave anyway.
"18:42," he finally answered.
"Thank you." Part of me wanted to stay. Just bask in that peaceful feeling. Maybe find out more about this handsome stranger. And his cute, friendly dog. But it was getting late and I had to get back, before Brandon sent out a search party for me.
"Wait! Can I walk you home?" he said. "It...it can get dangerous here at night."
In this part of town? Unlikely, but sweet of him to offer. I smiled. "I'm fine, thanks for the offer."
"How did you know I had a phone?"
Shit, it was stupid to say that. But cell
phones were so commonplace, I figured I could get away with it. "Oh! I...I just assumed. I mean everyone has one, right?"
I let out an awkward chuckle, trying to play it cool but failing miserably. I wasn't a people person on a good day. With a handsome stranger? Nope, not even close to normal.
"Except you," he said and smiled flirtatiously.
"Right, uh, thanks again," I said, before running off. I was afraid my awkwardness would get even worse, now that I was blushing like a teenager with a crush.
"What's your name?" he called out after me.
But I didn't see the point of answering. I mean, he's just some random hot guy in Atlanta. Was a nice thought while it lasted, but I'm never going to see him again.
As I walked back, my thoughts kept returning to the stranger. That feeling, when I was near him...what was that about? Of course, it was my luck to meet someone interesting on assignment.
I finished up at Dynatech, removing the malware from the rest of their machines. Brandon actually hugged me afterwards. Which was kind of weird after my bizarre dreams about him, I'm not gonna lie. Because Tad intentionally uploaded the threat, the heat was on him and not Brandon now. I was glad for it—Brandon was an asset to the company, and I told the execs as much when they paid me my fee. I also told Stacey if she ever wanted to move to Jersey, to look me up. An assistant like her would be an absolute godsend.
As I left the building, I glanced back at the park. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but I got the distinct feeling I would see them again—the stranger and his dog. And that possibility made me smile.
Chapter 4
Three blissful days I was left alone. No calls, no emails, no human contact whatsoever. I finally got to lounge in my comfy chair, alternating between gazing out at the town and reading my favorite books, cozy mysteries. I always thought if I weren't enhanced, if languages had not come to me so easily, that I would've been some kind of amateur sleuth, solving mysteries in my hometown and abroad like in my books. I liked to think I was sneaky and observant enough to pull it off. I sipped expensive frou-frou tea and lost myself in that fun fictional world. It was glorious.
So, when the call came in on the fourth day, I wasn't annoyed. One might even say pleasant, which is difficult for someone from New Jersey.
"Ms. Lexington? This is Lisa from Genitech."
"Good morning. Call me Cass."
"Thank you, Cass. I'm calling about an unresponsive android. He was fine one minute, then the next..."
I raised an eyebrow. An android? It wasn't exactly my area of expertise, but I supposed it was still a machine.
"Okay, can you give me more details?"
She let out a giggle that probably left most men helpless slaves. I found it slightly irritating. "Oh, I'm afraid I'm only a secretary, so I don't know about all that. But I'm told you're the best of the best!"
There was something odd about the way she said that. The whole interaction sounded kind of suspect.
"Look Lisa, I can't take on a client without knowing at least a few more details. You might be better off with someone...more suited to robotics."
Was I trying to avoid taking on more work? Maybe. But in truth, I'd never interfaced with an android before. I wasn't even sure how my power would work.
"My boss is fully on board with whatever your fees are. We've had..." She paused so long, I thought the call had dropped. "...some bad experiences with other contractors."
It was understandable, certainly plausible considering my experience with others in IT. The idiots far outnumbered the skilled, and on more than one occasion I had to clean up someone else's good intentioned mess. I did a quick search of the number she was calling from, and found the location was in Jersey.
"I can be there in two hours."
Lisa agreed and planned to meet me in the lobby then. That gave me just enough time to shower, grab a quick snack, and research this company more.
The more I learned about Genitech, the more uneasy I became. Red flag #1: lack of details for the incident. Red flag #2: the company itself—founded to study the enhanced condition. I remembered an article mentioning how close they were to developing a tool to detect enhanced.
Is this some kind of trap? I was tempted to call Lisa back and cancel. But then I figured I was just being paranoid. I was always careful about using my abilities around other people. As far as I knew, no one had discovered I was enhanced. Well, no one alive anyway.
I did a search to see if Genitech had any ties with the OCEI—the detection tool sounded like something they would commission. But if they were working together, there was no public record of it. With so little information available on the OCEI, it was a lost cause. Save one or two news articles that disappeared on subsequent searches, it was like the OCEI didn't exist. If the rumors were true about what they were doing to enhanced, it made sense for them not to have an online presence.
Genitech, on the contrary, was all about helping enhanced and humanity. At least according to their website. I wasn't so sure. And I wouldn't be, I realized, until I checked them out myself. Why not get paid while I was poking around?
When I arrived early at Genitech, I checked in with the receptionist. The lobby was modern and starkly furnished, I supposed to project a sort of sleek technology image. It was in the ground floor of a large mirrored glass office building, with at least a dozen floors and a keyed entrance to the main offices. I saw no other names on the building, so I had to assume it was all them. From what I read on their website, they were still a fledgling company, only starting up two years ago. It seemed surprising then, for them to have an entire building at their disposal, especially considering their purpose was to "research" the enhanced condition.
While I was waiting, I asked the receptionist what Genitech does, just to see what she would say. She didn't in fact say anything at all, just smiled sweetly and handed me a brochure.
"Genitech: Protecting our Future with Technology," the brochure displayed on the front cover. The colors clashed and the layout was all over the place. This was definitely done in-house by someone with zero design experience. It was as if they never intended for anyone to look at it.
The brochure had much of the same information as on the website, full of bloated, generic humanitarian drivel. As I read on though, some of the words struck me as a veiled threat to enhanced: "knowledge is the only way we can be prepared to face our nation's threats," and "we're developing tomorrow's cures today, to keep everyone safe." I shuddered at the word "cures." If they weren't partnered with the OCEI, it was only a matter of time. As I read more propaganda, a feeling of calm washed over me. Which was more than strange, considering my reading material.
"Hello again."
I looked up from the pamphlet at the sound of a man's voice. Sitting in the chair next to me was the guy from the park in Atlanta.
"Small world, isn't it?" he said.
"Where did you come from?" I asked, glancing around. "I was alone a second ago."
"Oh, I just arrived. You seemed rather engrossed in that brochure, I didn't want to disturb you." He smiled a sexy but cute grin.
What the hell is he doing here, anyway? Did he somehow track me? If I didn't find him so attractive, I would've been freaking out. Which occurred to me, is exactly how serial killers successfully kidnap their victims. "Um, why are you here? This seems a long way from Georgia."
His easygoing smile abruptly vanished. "Oh God, you don't think I'm a stalker, do you?"
There was something genuine about the way he asked that. "The thought had crossed my mind."
"I'm here for a tour of the facilities," he said. "I'm thinking about investing in the company."
"Really?" I blurted out before I could stop myself. If he wanted to invest in Genitech, why should I care? But I found myself curiously disappointed in him.
"What?" he asked in an innocent tone. "I mean protecting our future with technology sounds pretty important..."
He tried to keep a straight face but fail
ed miserably.
"Did you read this thing?" I whispered. "It's just awful!"
"Maybe it's better if I don't," he said, and laughed. "So why are you here?"
The double doors that led into the offices opened, and a woman who could've easily been a model came into the lobby. Tall, perfect mocha skin and a natural hairstyle that accentuated her bone structure. I wondered how long it took her to look so effortlessly beautiful. She smiled when she noticed me, and then walked in my direction.
"Cass? I'm Lisa, we talked on the phone."
I stood and reluctantly shook her outstretched hand. "Nice to meet you."
She glanced at the handsome stranger next to me and her brow furrowed, but then she returned her focus to me. "Let me get you a badge."
I was about to join her, when the man stood and spoke.
"Wait," he said, as he touched my arm. The calm I felt earlier was amplified, and a warmth spread throughout my body. "Your name is Cass? I'm Tyler."
"Who are you?" I whispered under my breath. I took a deep breath and exhaled, enjoying the total peace that seemed to accompany his proximity. My eyes closed involuntarily, as if to let my other senses take over and fully experience the sensation.
"I was kinda wondering the same thing," he whispered back.
The harsh clicking noise of what could only be high heels grew louder, and I opened my eyes to see Lisa approach me. She handed me a badge. "You'll need to wear this at all times inside."
The calm left me in a rush, and I realized the man was gone. Did I imagine him?
"The man that was here a moment ago, do you know anything about him?" I asked Lisa. Mostly I was hoping for a confirmation that he was real. My active imagination was not to be trusted.
"I think Sara mentioned an investor stopping by." She shrugged her shoulders. "Guessing that was him."
Oh thank God. He's real! But as fascinated as I was with him, none of that mattered. I came here to do a job. I grabbed my laptop bag and followed Lisa.
Playing With Fire Page 114
