by Fiona Quinn
“And any passwords you typed in.”
She shook her head. “I don’t like to use my phone for anything beyond phone calls and the occasional text. I’ve been so busy this week with my mother, Taylor, and the convention, I haven’t been on my phone much at all.” She looked at Rowan. “The text when I gave you my phone number, and we arranged a Skye, then the airport. I think that’s it for texts. And Taylor, there’s no cell phone service out her way. We e-mail to communicate, or I bang on her door.”
“That’s an important piece of information,” Titus said. “Thank you.”
“Right, I can see you didn’t have a lot of communications through your phone during that time. You looked at Twitter on Friday. Lisa private messaged you that Row_man was now going as LeGit.”
“Oh yes, that’s right. And that’s Rowan on Twitter,” she said.
“Can I take a look at Mary Turner?” Rowan asked.
Nutsbe spun the computer toward Rowan as he said, “It was a good thing you opened the ShareItApp on your phone and not your lap top.”
“It had a virus?”
“Malware. It could look around. And it could gain access to anything you linked by sending a file and opening it. I believe they found Lisa, not because of Twitter, because she was in your phone contacts.”
“I opened Taylor’s notes on my computer.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Nutsbe said. “When we were at Headquarters and I was putting that on the big screen, my security programs scanned the file, and it was clean. So was your computer.”
“That’s a relief,” Avery said. “But about my contacts, I don’t have Lisa’s address, just her phone number. And Rowan isn’t in there,” Avery said. “Oh, wait. You know I texted him. But how would someone who sent me malware know where either Lisa or Rowan lived. I don’t even know that.”
Rowan had been looking into MaryTurner578293401. He pushed the computer toward Nutsbe so he could see. “This bot was out of Bulgaria, they identify each other through this little symbol at the bottom left corner of their banners.”
If Sergei Prokhorov had any idea that Rowan was the guy who approached him at the gala, Rowan would be dead.
Or worse, captured.
Chapter Forty-Four
Rowan
Sunday Morning
Springfield, Virginia
“To answer your question about how they knew where we lived. One way would be through my contacts. Rowan’s not only in my contacts, he’s also my ICE—in case of emergency. And I’m his ICE,” Lisa said. “The malware could have spread when you sent back the file with the short story I had you read.”
“That was a Word document not a ShareItApp, like Mary Turner’s was,” Avery pointed out.
“Once your phone had the malware, anything you sent from your phone, that someone opens, could have that malware spread into their device,” Lisa explained. “I have programs on my phone to protect me, but it very easily could have just looked around my system to see what apps I had and looked through my contacts list. My home address is listed in the set up.”
“That was Saturday,” Nutsbe said, looking at the read out on his computer. “10:23.”
“I am so confused,” Avery said.
“Not to worry,” Nutsbe said. “This is all just drawing lines of connection. The take away is that a bad actor planted malware on your phone, and we’re speculating about how that information could have been used. One way is by accessing your microphone and video camera, that ended up being put up on social media, and another was to access your contacts.”
“Okay. Well, no, not okay,” Avery said. “I guess I should have said, I’m still following along.”
“Nutsbe, they’d know Kennedy and Griffin are both FBI from their GPS?” Titus asked.
“No,” Lisa said. “Rowan and I have an app on our phones that cleans out our GPS files as they’re made. They can’t be tracked back to FBI Headquarters.”
“My phone has been with FBI forensics since the Patriots Pledge, before the vandals. I haven’t heard word back about malware. But I don’t access files on my phone as a rule,” Rowan said, looking at Nutsbe. “I have only one app.” He shrugged. “Yeah, I know it’s vulnerabilities, and yet I still use it. It’s used by most of the military community. It’s sentimental I guess. It’s for—"
“Let me guess. Running app?” Nutsbe asked.
“Bingo,” Rowan said.
“That explains Monday night then.”
“It’s starting to line up,” Rowan agreed. “If someone was good with computers and knew I was a runner. But, man, this is bizarre. Avery and I talked for the first time Monday night. Monday night after we got off Skype, I was attacked. They had to have that information for at least enough time to form a plan. It wasn’t a great plan so give it twenty-four hours, maybe? I honestly don’t know how the Patriots Pledge could tie to Avery.”
“I have a guess,” Lisa said under her breath.
Rowan leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. His brow drew tight.
“Remember the day I told you about the tweet that got erased?”
Rowan felt the blood drain from his face. Jodie. “There was more than the one?”
Lisa looked over at Avery then back at Rowan. She tipped her head toward the bathroom and moved that way.
Rowan pointed at Nutsbe and they both followed Lisa.
After Nutsbe shut the bathroom door, Lisa turned on the water in the sink.
“There were two other tweets that Jodie posted before she linked Row_man to Dark Matters. They were spaced with a bunch of rambling nonsense tweets, over two hours’ time, between the earlier ones and the one that doxxed your work account. One was something like, ‘Girls, make sure to know your fella’s passwords. You’ll find out what lying cheats they are in their DMs. You want him @A_Very? You’ll see how much that relationship sucks.”
“She erased it?” Rowan asked.
“Yup, same time she erased the other. Chances are slim to none that Avery saw it. Knowing Avery, she wouldn’t get messed up in anyone else’s crap. She has enough of her own.”
“Agreed, and the third?” That tied him to Avery, but it didn’t put Patriots Pledge on his heels.
“She said, “If you’re seeing this @ Row_man make sure you take me off the StrideApp. I’m not your running partner anymore. I’m your nothing partner, anymore. Maybe @A_Very wants my empty place.”
“If someone put A_Very into the search bar. You’d see those tweets up until they were removed,” Nutsbe said.
“Yup.”
“So Friday morning they see that. Someone who is watching knows that A_very and Row_man are now an item.” Nutsbe turned to Lisa. “Is that Twitter handle in your contacts, Lisa?”
“Yes. It is. Was. I changed it to his new one, LeGit a few days ago.”
“It’s easy to set up a computer search to flag any time that A_Very is mentioned on the Internet. They find out that she has a new love interest, via the exes tweet. They already have access to Avery’s phone. Saturday they get access to your phone, Lisa. The phone searches your contacts for Lisa and Row_man and up pops two addresses, yours and Rowans. That person or organization, we label them Mary Turner, knows that Rowen uses the StrideApp. That’s easily hackable.” Nutsbe focused on Rowan. “You have that under your name?”
“Rowan Kennedy, yes.”
“Okay, they pull that up and see your running history. The heat ring probably goes in two directions out of your house.”
“Yes.”
“So your house is easy to pinpoint, and they can see the address in Lisa’s contacts.”
“And they’d see the ring from Lisa’s house. We sometimes run together.”
“Bingo. Okay. It’s looking like Mary Turner handed two groups the information. One over the weekend. One after the attack failed. This data leads to more questions. Let’s get out of the bathroom. It’s too small in here, and I think we can debate this with Avery present.”
They mov
ed back to the bedroom. Nutsbe walked over to a portable whiteboard that Iniquus had brought in. He wrote A_Very ->Twitter->malware->Mary Turner, circled the name, and drew two spokes, one for Patriots Pledge, and the other for vandals.
Avery was hugging two pillows now. Tears in her eyes. A big frown on her face.
“Sorry about that Avery. Lisa was sharing information she thought might be sensitive. I told you that I recently broke up. The night we called it quits, she got drunk on Twitter and doxxed me. We now understand the running app.” Rowan couldn’t tell Avery everything about his life, but he was darned sure going to be straightforward with everything he could be. Rowan pointed toward the whiteboard. “We were able to draw these conclusions from what my ex, Jodie, had posted on Twitter. Now, we’re asking what makes sense if Mary Turner is involved with both groups. My guess is that they had a plan for the Patriots Pledge to accomplish something. They failed. Mary Turner sent the B-team, these FlashDeath vandals.”
“To what end?” Titus said.
Nutsbe held up a finger as he tapped at the computer.
Avery turned to Rowan. “Titus said GPS earlier. Is that why you asked everyone to put their phones on airplane mode at my house?” Avery asked. “They couldn’t listen to us or film us. Couldn’t follow the GPS back to your Headquarters?”
“Exactly,” Nutsbe answered as he looked up.
Avery spun his way. “Everyone in my contacts might get their houses destroyed?”
“It’s doubtful,” Nutsbe said. “The perpetrators would want more information than a phone number and address. And they probably got what they needed from Lisa and Rowan.”
“Which was what?” Avery frowned. “Why attack our houses?”
“I hypothesize that they just needed pictures and a salacious story to drive the social media algorithms with your name, Avery, and a connection to Taylor Knapp. If they hit too many houses, the chances of them being caught go up exponentially,” Nutsbe said. “Okay. That ping was a computer report landing in my in-box. I have an answer. In the case of FlashDeath, and their vandalism in your three houses,” he read. “A new Internet topic was detected this morning, again bots and influencers are involved.” He had his focus on the computer screen. “This social media campaign is targeting anti-LGBTQA groups. They are specifically identifying religious groups that promote marriage between a man and a woman.” He turned toward Rowan and Avery. “They’re saying that you, Avery, along with Rowan, and Lisa are a triangle marriage. You, Avery, are advocating for marriages like those allowed in the Middle East, where a man can take many wives. You want to take down the whole concept of one man and one woman marriages. That’s one prong of the attack. Another prong is that now that same sex couples can marry, your relationship of multiple partners is the next step in the slippery slope to the destruction of the traditional family. A group, which is not being named, set out to punish the three of you. There are pictures of your houses and their tags, so we know this is FlashDeath. The vandals are being lauded as heroes. It’s only a few hours old. They’re building steam with their bots, and I’m sure that if the Iniquus computers weren’t intervening, we’d see the clash later today.”
“Clash. That’s the counter narrative?” Avery asked.
“Exactly, and the vehemence of the clash is what drives the social media algorithms to make these things go viral. So far they aren’t naming Lisa or Rowan, just Avery and her connection with Taylor Knapp.”
“But you’re mitigating it?” Avery asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Nutsbe said. “We have our computers searching and scrubbing the Internet. We should be able to keep the numbers down, so the social media sites don’t push it out, like we’ve done for your video with your mother.”
“This is because of me—your houses destroyed, Rowan attacked.” She dropped her head. “I am so so so so sorry. I will make it up to you.” She looked up, catching Rowan’s gaze. “I don’t know how. But I’ll fix it.” She turned to Lisa. “I’m sorry.”
“Shhh.” Rowan pulled her into his arms and tucked her under his chin, stroking his hand over her hair. He couldn’t imagine what this must be like for her, to watch her life blow up in a week, and to feel like you were dragging people you cared for down with you. Especially for someone with Avery’s sensibilities. “You’re not responsible for anyone’s actions. We’ll find them. They’ll be punished.”
“They already found you. What if they doxx you?” Avery asked. “Wouldn’t that mess you and Lisa up in the field? Wouldn’t that put you in danger?” She spun around to look at Lisa.
“Me? No, I’m not out in the field,” said Lisa. “I mean, I’d have to lay low, live somewhere else for a while, but this will blow over. The news cycles are fast-moving these days.”
Avery spun back to Rowan. “Rowan?”
“Yeah. It could be a problem. But my house is pretty secure. As a rule, we’re trained to be no profile. They couldn’t have gotten to anything telling at my house. But I’ll have to wait and see how this unrolls. Iniquus does this all the time. If there’s something out there that I don’t want out there, they’ll find it.” He waited until she had a moment to process that before he added, “Our priority is getting the guys who did this in a room and asking them some questions.”
“Okay, I can sit here and feel sorry for myself, or I can help make this stop. Tell me what you need from me. How can I best make sure that Taylor doesn’t get to win?”
“Taylor is probably a pawn too. Less so than you. But used. She surely can’t be naïve enough to think that what she told you about showing the shadow side of people is what’s happening,” Nutsbe said.
“It is exposing their shadow sides,” Lisa countered. “And the manipulation of those shadows is the twenty-first century version of a nuclear warhead aimed straight at American hearts and minds.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Avery
Monday afternoon.
Springfield, Virginia
“It’ll be a chess game,” Honey said. “And it has to come off as natural.”
Avery was in the hotel room where she and Rowan had spent the last two nights.
Yesterday, on her new Iniquus-provided phone, Avery had emailed Taylor to let her know that she was moving to the bed and breakfast, and that she’d be there later that day.
“No can do. I’m in writing mode. Come Monday evening, and I’ll hand you the first ten chapters. That should make you happy.”
That seemed like a reasonable amount of writing to have done from Saturday until Monday evening, assuming she started writing after she emailed me the outline, especially since each chapter was laid out so explicitly. Avery had looked over at Titus. He’d given her a thumbs up.
Now, Monday had arrived. Nutsbe and Honey were here today, going over details.
“We’ll be able to hear you at all times.” Honey held up a wire. “We’ll be able to see in the direction you’ve focused your head.” He pulled a pair of glasses from a case. “Try them on, and I’ll adjust them.”
“Is this why Margot asked me if I had my glasses with me the other night?” Avery slid the glasses on. “So she could get the prescription?”
“Exactly.” Honey looked left, then right on her head, and gently pulled them from her face. “I want these to be comfortable and fit well. If not, you’ll keep fussing with them, pushing them up. It’s best if you leave them alone, okay?”
She nodded.
“If you’re looking at something you want us to be able to read, it’s best if you lay it on a flat surface so your hand isn’t shaking. Try to remain very still and take a full breath cycle before you change your focus. When we scroll through your video, we can capture a stop frame easier that way. I’m going to put the wire into the seam of your blouse along your side. If anyone were to pat you down, they would think it was the stitching.”
“Someone would think to pat me down?”
“No.” Honey chuckled. “Just part of the spiel. I’m giving you information,
in case your editing something like this in one of your books. You can make it more authentic.”
Honey was a good name for this guy. He must be seven feet tall. His voice was husky and rumbly like a bear. But he was as sweet as could be. Avery noticed he had a gold band on his left ring finger. Whoever Mrs. Honey was, she’d picked herself a really nice guy.
While Honey was fussing with her, Avery was trying to listen to Rowan on speaker phone. The gist of what she got was that the guy with the gunshot wounds had woken up at the hospital. They hadn’t been allowed access yet.
It wasn’t confirmed that it was the guy Rowan shot.
Rowan had shot a man.
In his neighborhood.
Shot him twice with someone else’s gun. How crazy was that?
They’d also run down the names and addresses of the men attached to FlashDeath. The FBI had search warrants in hand.
Lisa leaned in to the speaker. “When you go into their houses with your search warrants, I want their electronics, including their televisions and their gaming consoles. And check their places for blue spray paint.”
“That feels fine, Honey.” Avery worked at not batting Honey’s hand away. “They’re fine like that. Thank you.” Avery’s anxiety was starting to climb. She could feel the welts from hives starting to make her skin prickle. She was right back to the feeling from that horrible day at the New York FBI Headquarters. What a poor excuse of a spy she was.
She was just darned bad at subterfuge.
They’d given her a thumb drive to keep in her pocket. If she could get to Taylor’s computer while it was booted up, she was supposed to insert it into the port and wait for the green light before she pulled it back out. Doing that would give the team access to Taylor’s computer, just like someone had access to her old phone.
Not the same end use, Avery reminded herself. Good guys versus bad guys.
“A friend introduced me to a woman while I was in New York,” Avery practiced. “She worked for the FBI, and she asked for my help. Have you ever heard of the CIA Red Cell?” Avery cleared her voice. “The CIA red—” She coughed, sniffed, and tried again. “Have you ever heard of the CIA Red Cell? It’s pretty darned cool. They asked for recommendations. And you popped immediately to mind. How would you like to help your country?” Avery paused, smiled. “The way it was explained to me is that they give you top secret information, you look it over, and then tell them different story plots that you would develop from the information they gave you. For example, you might have the terrorists attack from the sea or land or air. It’s really perfect for you. This is just like the rings that you develop for your games. Choices made and what can be learned from each iteration.”
