“Score!” He shot a fist into the air as the user’s name popped up.
TylerS. Not Hamid or something similar. Looked like the computer belonged to a guy named Tyler. Made sense, Wiley supposed. Hamid wouldn’t put his own pricey computer in a cache. That would just be stupid.
Wiley used Kip’s computer to check the Hacktivist site. Yeah, there was another kid named Tyler Stone in the group, but Wiley didn’t know him. Maybe the ultrathin was Tyler’s computer and Hamid was punking Tyler, so he put Tyler’s computer into the cache. Sounded like something a teenager would do. Shoot, sounded like something Wiley would do as a practical joke.
Wiley turned his attention back to the ultrathin. The screen held only two icons. One for Facebook. Another, a Notepad document called “No-Fly List Hack”.
No-Fly List hack?
Had Hamid hacked the database holding the names for the No-Fly List? Nah, not a decent kid like Hamid. Or was he? It’d been some time since Wiley talked to the guy. Maybe he’d turned into one of those religious zealots involved with a terrorist group and the cache was a way to move things to others without raising suspicion. But if that were the case, he wouldn’t have posted it on Hacktivist where anyone could see it, right?
Or maybe that’s why he posted it at night, when no sane person would go looking for it. Could be the way the terrorist cell communicated. If so, the laptop might hold some extremely valuable information.
Wiley opened and perused the file. The hacker had done what all good hackers do. He’d kept a step-by-step record of his invasion into the federal database allowing him to get back into the site at a later date.
Oh, yeah. This’s good. Real good.
Adrenaline spiked through Wiley’s veins. He might have stumbled onto something serious here.
He checked the document’s properties. Discovered it was created on this machine. Now, just who did the machine belong to? Tyler or Hamid?
“You find anything?” Kip set the large bowl of popcorn on the table and dropped into a chair by Wiley.
No way was Wiley telling Kip about the hack. The dude was so clean, he squeaked. He would report the hack to the authorities before Wiley could determine if and how he could exploit it.
He closed the document. “I’m logging on to Facebook right now to see if I can get any of the owner’s details.”
“Let me see,” Kip said, as he grabbed a handful of popcorn and slid closer.
Wiley shifted to give Kip a view. The account password had been stored on the computer, and Facebook opened, revealing a headshot of a white male, obviously in a teenage rebellious phase, with scraggly long hair and a sullen expression.
“Tyler Stone,” Kip muttered.
TylerS. The owner of the computer?
Seemed more likely than Tyler having been the last person to access Facebook on a machine belonging to Hamid. Wiley clicked on the “About” tab.
“Dude, he’s only seventeen,” Kip said. “A junior at Reynolds High in Troutdale. Why would a kid put a computer in a cache?”
More importantly, which one of the teens had hacked the No-Fly List?
Maybe this Tyler kid was buddies with Hamid and they were in on this together.
“Click on his pictures,” Kip encouraged. “I gotta see more about a guy who’s dumb enough to give up a pricey computer this way.”
Wiley opened the page and scrolled down, watching for any pictures of Hamid. There were plenty of shots of a computer club hanging together, but none including Hamid. So what did that mean? Maybe Hamid hacked the list and was setting this Tyler kid up to take a fall. But Wiley’s gut told him the computer belonged to Tyler Stone and he’d done the hack. So why did Hamid have the machine and why put it in the cache?
Kip stabbed a finger at the screen. “Dude, isn’t that the FBI chick who put you away?”
Wiley quit scrolling to enlarge the picture. He sucked in a breath and held it while he studied the picture. Tyler Stone peered up at Special Agent Nina Brandt wearing a dress that hugged her curves. On her other side, a tall, tough-looking dude dressed in Navy blues stared at her, his face filled with sappy infatuation.
“Check out the Navy guy,” Kip said. “He’s got a Trident pinned on his uniform. You know what that means.”
“No.” Wiley had about as much interest in the military as he had in being Kip’s roommate for life.
“Means he’s a SEAL, and he’s clearly got the hots for her.” Kip mocked a lascivious smile totally out of character for his mama’s-boy personality. “Too bad she was the one who put you away, or I could get all over hanging a picture of her in my room.”
Wiley didn’t blame Kip. She had a face and body that most guys would drool over, but she left Wiley cold. Frozen-waterfall-in-the-gorge cold. This poor excuse for a human being flashing an innocent smile had sealed his fate for two long years. Since Wiley had never been arrested before, the judge had hinted at leniency. But no. Brandt had to get all up in his stuff and change the judge’s mind. Told him that Wiley would repeat if he didn’t have the time to see the errors of his ways.
Nasty chick. Mega nasty. She’d ruined his life. Totally ruined it. Just when he was getting ready to take the world by storm. To make his mark in the hacking community. Achieve notoriety so everyone who was out to get him would know he was as hardcore as they come and couldn’t be touched.
“What’re the odds that you’d find a computer connected to her?” Kip asked as he took over the mouse to scroll down the feed. “I mean, it looks like a remote connection, but a connection all the same.”
Indeed. What were the odds? Were the gods finally smiling on him?
He could use this information to his benefit, but how?
He let Kip continue to play creepy stalker dude and sat back to think.
If the document panned out, Wiley had a blueprint for accessing the No-Fly List. Possibilities were endless. Terrorists would pay millions to have a door into that system. Thanks to his prison stint, Wiley knew how to find a buyer. He could use the money to put his life back together. Pay for plastic surgery to erase his scars. Set himself up in style. A big win on its own, but with a little sleight of hand, he could make it look like Brandt orchestrated the hack.
Oh, yeah, perfect. She’d go away for a lot more than two years. Maybe for a lifetime. A lifetime!
“Here’s another picture of them.” Kip paused on a photo showing the trio on a picnic. Brandt smiling again. Her love for the SEAL dude shining on her face. She didn’t deserve this happiness. Not when he was still suffering from her abuse.
Time to end it. Check out the hack. Sell it.
Maybe he could use this Tyler kid or the SEAL in the plan, too. She obviously cared about them, meaning Wiley could inflict more pain that way. No. Wait. Hamid would be a better choice. His nationality would suggest that Brandt was involved in terrorist activities. She’d never see the light of day. Never.
Wiley would have to get to work on this right now. He couldn’t risk authorities discovering the hack before he could act on it. Once they did, eliminating the vulnerability would shoot to the top of their priority list.
A flash of unease cut into his conscience. Could he live with the consequences of putting this list into the hands of terrorists?
He looked at Brandt’s smirk again. She’d left him to rot in prison. To be a punching bag for the scum of the earth. Made him crawl in their filth. Day after day for two years. Seven hundred and thirty endless nights of darkness that still sent fear to his heart.
His gut churned, forcing acid up his throat. She had to pay. To bring her down he could—he would—do anything. Anything! Even if it meant innocent people died in the process.
“DANG, NINA. YOU look horrible.” Fellow agent Becca Lange said as she parked herself in the doorway of Nina’s cubicle.
“Thanks
a lot,” Nina replied, then chuckled.
Nina wouldn’t let just anyone get away with telling her that she looked bad, but Becca and Kait were almost family, and family was often brutally honest.
Nina stared at her friend for a moment, barely registering her requisite FBI uniform of a dark suit and simple blouse. Her shoulder-length hair was back in her usual ponytail with highlighted streaks from her daily jogs.
Becca rested her steaming coffee mug on Nina’s desk. “What are you still doing here anyway? Our suspects are in custody. You should go home and get some sleep.”
“I know, it’s just . . .” Nina tapped her computer screen displaying the chat room Jae had brought to her attention. Nina had been monitoring it all morning and while she’d scarfed down a quick sandwich for lunch. “It’s this conversation. Even if it didn’t lead to the Bonneville arrest, it still bothers me, and I want to keep an eye on it.”
“Please. If we didn’t go home until we tracked down every nonspecific piece of intel like this, we’d never get any sleep.” Becca smiled, but the stubborn set to her eyes remained. “If it bothers you, assign one of the analysts to monitor it and get out of here.”
Could Nina sleep with this lingering unease? She opened her mouth to discuss it when the phone on her desk rang. She checked caller ID. Building security. “Hold that thought a sec.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Becca sipped her coffee and waited. She was a pit bull when she wanted to achieve something. She was legendary for her skills in planning and organizing. And her impatience. Man, she was impatient, often taking over the team when things weren’t moving as planned. Nina usually appreciated her friend taking the lead, but today she knew Becca would stand there until Nina went home. Maybe she’d even escort her to the door.
Nina grabbed the phone. “Brandt.”
“I know you don’t have any visitors on the log, Agent Brandt,” the security guard said, his words rushing out, “but I got a guy here to see you.”
The last thing Nina needed was to chat with someone who hadn’t made an appointment. “Take his name and number. I’ll get back to him.”
“Um . . . I . . .” Roger paused, his uncertainty out of character. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to try to brush this guy off. He’s made it clear he plans to make a spectacle of himself if you don’t come down here. He’s a SEAL. I believe him.”
SEAL? No . . . really? Not Quinn. It couldn’t be him, could it? She’d made it quite clear that she didn’t want to see him again. “Please tell me it’s not Quinn Stone.”
Becca’s interest perked up, and she mouthed, “Quinn?”
Nina shrugged.
“It’s Stone all right. He says he knows you. His brother, a Tyler Stone, is with him.”
Ty? The kid Nina had come to think of as her own little brother during her time with Quinn?
“Can you come down?” Roger still sounded anxious.
Nina didn’t blame him. He sat behind secured glass, but most guys knew that SEALs were ultimate fighting warriors—operators, as they liked to be called. It was smart to give them a wide berth. And Quinn was all SEAL.
“I’ll be right there, Roger.” She hung up, but had no intention of rushing down to the security checkpoint. “It’s Quinn. He’s trying to push Roger around. And Roger doesn’t rattle easily.”
Becca eyed Nina. “What’s he doing here?”
“No idea.” Nina resisted the urge to grab her purse and check her appearance before going downstairs. She had no reason to try to impress Quinn Stone. “Ty’s with him.”
“Maybe Ty wants to shadow you again,” Becca suggested.
Nina thought about the day when Ty trailed her, Becca, and Kaitlyn Knight, one of the FBI’s elite Cyber Action Teams. “He was bored out of his mind the last time. I can’t imagine he’d ask to do it again. At least not voluntarily.”
“You think Quinn dragged him here?”
“If he did, he wouldn’t have given Ty a chance to refuse. No one says no to Quinn.”
“Um, Nina,” Becca said. “You did. Kind of, anyway. Before you broke up.”
“Yeah . . . well . . . I’m much older and wiser than Ty, and I know how to stand my ground.” Nina came to her feet, straightened her jacket, and resisted another urge to glance in her mirror.
Could she stand her ground? They’d been a couple for a year and had been totally in love. At least, she’d thought they were. But Quinn’s life as a SEAL took him to God knows where, doing God knows what, and she couldn’t handle not knowing where he was and if he was all right.
When she told him she couldn’t live with the uncertainty anymore and something had to change, he froze and did nothing. Didn’t say a word. Just bailed. For her own sanity, she had to break things off. Still, she’d hoped he’d come to his senses. But after a few months passed without any contact, she got the message. Eighteen months had gone by since then, and her only contact with him had been on a case six months ago. He’d hinted at getting back together but nothing had changed in his life, and she wasn’t going to put herself in a position to get hurt again.
Becca glanced at her chunky sports watch. “I’m heading over to County to question our suspects. I’ll walk you down.”
Nina got up from her chair and walked with Becca, her head down in her usual get-to-the-problem-and-solve-it mode. The two of them were about the same height, but Nina had a hard time keeping up. Not only a runner but also an all-around athlete, Becca was solid muscle, and her legs powered her down the hallway at a quick pace. She was the fittest of the three agents on the team. In addition to her daily runs, she also worked out. Not to look good, but to stay healthy, and to give her the stamina to work tirelessly on the job and on behalf of foster kids.
She was a former foster child herself, and she volunteered as a Court Appointed Special Advocate for foster children. She truly wanted to help these kids, but her volunteerism was mostly about trying to make up for her foster sister’s disappearance when they were teens. Molly had met the lowlife who was suspected of abducting her in a chat room, and she’d never been found. Becca had introduced Molly to the chat room, so Becca took the blame for Molly’s disappearance. Becca couldn’t help Molly, so she worked tirelessly on behalf of other children to atone for it. Regardless of how much Nina and Kait attempted to help Becca let go of the guilt, she clung to it, and her never-ending schedule of activities required being in excellent shape.
Nina worked out, too. The job required it. But her idea of healthy was cutting back on the plump biscuits she loved to bake then slather with butter and honey until the mixture ran down the crispy edges.
Biscuits. That would soften the sting of seeing Quinn. Too bad it would take a dozen. Plus a glass of sweet tea to wash them down.
She rounded the corner to the elevator. Her phone rang in the tone she’d assigned to her mother who still lived in Mobile. Nina groaned.
Becca rolled her eyes. She and Kait had heard this ring so many times, they recognized it immediately. “Your mom has the most amazing timing.”
“‘Amazing’ isn’t the word I’d use.” Nina didn’t want to answer, but if she didn’t, the calls would keep coming. Endlessly. She pressed Talk. “Now’s not a good time to talk, Mama. Can I call you back later?”
“Why can’t you talk? Is everything okay?” Nina could picture her mother’s frown as she sat in her kitchen at the worn Formica countertop with copious burn marks from years of use.
“Everything’s fine,” Nina soothed, though things were far from fine with Quinn waiting for her. “It’s just a work thing. I really need to go.”
“What time will you call back?” she demanded.
“I’m not sure. But sometime today.”
“You promise?”
Nina stifled a sigh. “I promise.”
“I’ll wait by the phon
e.”
Nina said goodbye and knew better than to tell her mother to enjoy her day. She hadn’t enjoyed a day since Nina’s brother Garrett had drowned. As a result, Nina had to deal with these daily phone calls reminding her of the loss. Reminding her that she’d been the one holding Garrett’s hand until she could hold no more and he slipped away under the rushing water.
“I have a few minutes.” Becca boarded the elevator and stabbed the button. “I could come out with you when you meet Quinn.”
Nina joined Becca. “I’m good. I got this.”
“You’re sure?” Concern lingered on Becca’s face.
Nina wanted nothing more than to talk this out with her friends, but she had worked hard to get over Quinn. She had to stand on her own two feet when it came to him. “Just tell Kait to clear her schedule for tonight. After this, you know I’ll need a girl’s night. If I can stay awake.” She laughed.
“Oh, we’ll keep you awake. At least, until you tell us what this’s all about.” Becca grinned and gave Nina’s shoulder a quick squeeze as the elevator doors split open. “Just remember to breathe. You never wilted under Quinn’s intensity before. Don’t let him get to you today.”
Becca strode toward the parking garage, and Nina stepped out the front door. The sun had burned off the early morning clouds. She guessed the temperature to be around fifty.
As she crossed the grassy courtyard, she could see Quinn pacing like a captive animal in the small security building located at the main road. She wasn’t at all surprised he’d convinced Roger to call her. He had a presence about him, and he could con his way in and out of everywhere and everything. Everything. Even a relationship with her, when she knew dating someone who put his life on the line everyday, was the worst choice for her.
She dredged up a plastic smile—the one Grandmother Hale had made Nina practice for hours on end until it came easily to her lips and would remain there, even if someone was yanking out her molars with pliers.
She opened the door. Quinn stood with his back to her. He was built like a tank and dressed in a long-sleeved black T-shirt and khaki tactical pants. His dirty-blond hair was cut military-short on the sides, but was long enough on the top so he could shove his fingers into it, which he often did when he was frustrated. He didn’t have to turn for her to remember the cute little cowlick on the side that had made him seem less rugged and more approachable when they’d first met.
Web of Shadows Page 3
