Justice from the Shadows

by Nadirah Foxx

  “Huh?” I sat beside my assistant.

  “GSG Enterprises is a legitimate business laundering money for some of Genetti’s fraudulent schemes. Our best bet is to turn this info over to the Feds and let them handle it.”

  Josh, standing behind me, asked, “That’s it? What about the stolen hard drives?”

  “No connection. The illustrious mayor is guilty of wanting Sentinel Security. If the company was publicly traded, she would own shares.” Debbie swiped the screen. An email between the mayor and Walter appeared. “Mayor Simpson had inquired whether Sentinel was listed on the stock exchange.”

  I scanned the message. “That’s why she wanted to buy. We aren’t a public company, so that was the only way to get what she wanted.”

  “Exactly. One mystery solved, another to figure out.” Debbie lifted her tablet and scrolled through the screens. “I still believe Walter is behind the thefts. In spite of everything, the two suspects—”

  “Joe and Mikey,” Josh said.

  “Right… Joe and Mikey worked with Walter. If we find the hard drives, perhaps we’ll find the person responsible for the robberies.”

  “That makes sense,” I said. “Where do we begin?” Then, I remembered the recording I made. Pulling out my phone, I tapped the icon and played it for Debbie and Josh.

  “About tonight’s job… What do you mean you haven’t heard from Puckett?… No. No. I get it, but… Yup. I’ll get the crew together and meet you in Arcadia… Genetti said what?… Okay. Then, we need to take out his wife. If she’s dead, who else is going to run the company?”

  I hit the stop button. “Were there any reports of break-ins last night?”

  Debbie typed on her screen. “Not in Liberty City. There was a report of a B & E in Victoryville. Commonwealth Savings was hit.”

  “What was stolen?”

  “The usual… Wait a minute… It wasn’t a physical robbery. Someone hacked into their network. The computer data is being held hostage. Apparently, the hackers want Bitcoin in exchange for it.”

  We were in my wheelhouse. Finding cybercriminals was what Josh and I did best. “Can you detect any artifacts?”

  Debbie rapidly inputted information and then checked the screen. “No. This is fileless malware.”

  “Let me take a look,” Josh said. Debbie stood and allowed him to take her seat. “We’ve always been able to crack into it.” After a few minutes, he pushed away from the computer. “It doesn’t have an executable file, so there’s no signature to detect.”

  “What about an endpoint security monitor?” I asked. “It’s independent of the computer operating system.”

  “I’ll check for one,” Josh said. “Commonwealth is a Sentinel client. They’ll have antivirus software in place.”

  Debbie accessed a data point on another computer, and the two of them began scanning the memory. After a few minutes, Debbie said, “Found it! The hackers used a PowerShell downloader to attack the system. I’ve flagged it for one of our analysts to track. We’ll send out word to the bank about the breach.”

  Pacing the floor, I thought about the best way to handle the information. If we broadcasted it, the hackers would know we figured things out, and we’d lose our advantage.

  “Debbie, when you make the call, tell them to pay the Bitcoin. Do whatever’s necessary to track the trail. I want to know who collects the currency.”

  “On it.”

  My hope was that it worked. Hackers using ransomware were notorious for requesting cryptocurrency. The funds didn’t require a bank and could easily be transferred out of a digital wallet. My late husband’s company—my company—was on the forefront in digital forensics research. If we were lucky, the blockchain—essentially a distribution ledger associated with the Bitcoin—was a public one. Then, we could trace it and find the hackers. Maybe they were the ones responsible for the robberies. But if the blockchain was permissioned, meaning private, then our efforts would be doomed.

  40

  Derailed for Now

  Debbie, Josh, and I worked until the sun came up, trying to analyze the blockchain. Fortunate for us, it was a public one, but there was a lot of data to identify and cluster. The sheer size alone made me wonder about the potential users. While Debbie and Josh did their research, I performed my own.

  Accessing the LCPD database, I looked to see if there were any other ransomware attacks in the Tri-Cities area. My investigation uncovered a series of cryptoviral extortions at banks in Arcadia City, Victoryville, and Golden Harbor. Each time, the hackers were promptly paid. None of these events, however, were leaked to the press. If I hadn’t known what to search for, I would have remained unaware.

  I kept searching.

  Two months before Ryan’s death, an attack happened at Liberty City’s government offices. It was the reason why Sentinel pitched an upgrade to City Center. Once again, the information was on a need-to-know basis. I didn’t recall the LCPD being involved in that case.

  It had been my experience that most ransomware attacks occurred with individuals. Businesses, for the most part, had been exempt. The scene shifted a year ago when small companies became targets. For the most part, Liberty City had been insulated from the digital crime. With the theft at City Center, however, the tide was changing.

  Standing, I stretched and then walked over to Josh’s station. He glanced up. “Learn something?”

  “Possibly. Did you know there had been a string of ransomware attacks happening in the Tri-City area?”

  “Small businesses?”

  “No. Just banks.”

  Josh scratched his scruffy jaw. “That can’t be a coincidence.”

  “Exactly what I was thinking. The stolen hard drives came from…”

  “CEOs of—”

  “Fortune 500 companies, including banks,” Debbie interjected. “This feels a lot bigger than something Mario Genetti would be involved in.”

  “Possibly.” There was only one way to be sure. We had to talk to the man himself. “Debbie, can you fake credentials?”

  Josh’s mouth slackened while Debbie tilted her head to one side.

  “Don’t do it, Kerrie,” he warned. “It’s not worth it.”

  “But I can do it. What are you thinking?” asked my assistant.

  ◆◆◆

  In a few hours, I had identification attesting that I was FBI Agent Rita Carlow, a redhead with attitude. I also had permission to see the notorious Mario Genetti.

  Rockwood Penitentiary was an all-male, super-maximum-security facility located northwest of Arcadia City. Only prisoners deemed the most dangerous and in need of strict control were found in the prison. The only way to access it was by helicopter or by a bridge with tight surveillance.

  I didn’t ask Josh how he managed it, but he secured me a chopper ride to the island. I glimpsed an aerial view of the complex, and my blood froze. It was a lot of land surrounding interconnected buildings and constantly patrolled by heavily armed staff. Rockwood was self-sufficient with a residence for the warden, a morgue, and barracks for employees. Guards considered working on the island punishment for pissing off the wrong person.

  Despite its remote location, prisoners always tried to escape. When the facility was first built, it functioned like a fort with gun turrets around the complex. They’d since been upgraded to gun towers. Anyone who tried to escape was shot down. But if a bullet didn’t kill a person, the sharp cliffs or the bone-chilling water of Rockwood Bay just might do the trick. There was no place for a prisoner to swim ashore once they landed in the cove. Rumors circulated about how guards, sitting in their boats, would allow escapees to freeze. Just before the men succumbed to death, the guards would fish them out of the water. The ride back to the prison would be a slow, torturous one. Most men died from being exposed so long.

  The history of the place became more real when the chopper touched down on the helipad. I stared up at the razor-wire-topped walls and questioned my sanity. The pilot said, “I’ll wait here for you
, Agent Carlow.”

  “Thanks,” I said as I exited the helicopter. Crouching low, I hurried from beneath the whirling propeller. I stood there and watched the blades slow down; almost afraid the pilot would take off without me. When it was obvious he wasn’t, I walked toward the main entrance.

  Never in my life had I been in a prison. If I didn’t want real answers, I could have died happily never entering one. My plight in life, however, required me to pull up my big-girl panties and deal with the situation.

  Mario Genetti was considered one of the country’s most notorious, modern-day mob bosses. He’d had numerous people killed, laundered more money than what Fort Knox held, and even had dealings with underground conglomerates around the globe. Unlike Capone, the government found Genetti guilty of a truly heinous crime—sex trafficking. When a politician’s wife became a victim, the mob leader sealed his fate.

  Because of Genetti’s actions, he earned the right to life behind bars in Rockwood’s H-Unit. It was a special security section meant to restrict all possible communication with the outside. Members of a prisoner’s legal team or his immediate family were permitted to visit using phones on either side of a glass partition.

  The man, sitting in front of me with beady black eyes and thinning hair, was enough to chill my soul. For a moment, I wished our conversation would be monitored, but since I was posing as FBI, there would be no one listening in.

  Genetti stared at me for an uncomfortable minute before lifting the receiver. “What the fuck do you want?”

  I lifted mine and gripped it tightly. “Following up on some things. I won’t be long.”

  “Damn straight. I’ve said all I care to.”

  “Even if it would keep Gena out of one of these places?” Butterflies fluttered up a storm in my gut.

  “Someone’s misinformed you. I have no idea what my ex is up to these days.” The man grinned, revealing perfectly white-capped teeth.

  For the life of me, I couldn’t see what someone like Gena Simpson saw in Genetti. She was an attractive, curvy woman with long legs and a big— I cut myself off when I realized the appeal. Every woman caught up in Genetti’s sex trade had that look—tall, big breasts, and a curvy ass.

  Stay focused.

  “Not what we’ve uncovered. Gena’s running GSG Enterprises. Her operation includes a lot of your former businesses. When did you decide to get into murder for hire?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Now, that’s one crime you can’t pin on me. I’ve done a lot of shit in my life, but I ain’t telling nobody to kill anyone.” He chuckled. “Well, not anymore. Gena’s business is legit. I made sure of it. If someone’s telling you it ain’t, they’re lying.”

  “So, Gena wouldn’t be interested in moving around some Bitcoin? Holding businesses hostage?”

  Genetti laughed loudly. “Ain’t her style. She’s old school. I suggest you look a little closer to home.”

  Tilting my head, I asked, “What? Are you saying someone in the government is responsible?”

  “You must be a new agent.” He leaned forward. “I’ll do you a favor. Help you out, Greenhorn. Bitcoin is technology. You need to find a tech giant or a wannabe giant. Gena is looking to broaden the business, but she doesn’t know anything about computers and shit. If she’s aligned herself with someone, then look at him.”

  “Him?”

  “You heard me. Gena gets the job done any way possible. I’m in here. She’s out there. Put two and two together.” When I remained quiet, he stared at my visitor badge. “Agent Carlow, my ex is fucking someone, and he’s helping her.” He replaced the receiver and stood. Two guards appeared and helped him shuffle back to his cell.

  Slowly, I hung up the receiver.

  I pondered Genetti’s words on my way back to the helicopter. As the pilot took off and steered us back toward the mainland, I thought about Walter. Was he having sex with Mayor Simpson?

  And my mother?

  But that made no sense. I firmly believed Walter was merely the middleman, doing whatever someone else ordered him to do. By the time the chopper landed, I was convinced the key to whatever was going on was with the mayor.

  Since I was dressed for impersonation and I was in Arcadia City, I figured I might as well keep up the farce and use it to my advantage. I double-checked my rearview mirror to make sure my wig was on straight. Then, I cranked up the SUV and connected to the Bluetooth. I dialed Debbie’s number as I drove off.

  “What’s up?” she asked with a little too much pep in her voice.

  “I had an interesting conversation with Genetti.”

  “About?”

  “He told me the mayor isn’t involved in anything high-tech. When I asked him about Bitcoin, he told me to look for someone who’s either a tech giant or wants to be one.”

  “That’s interesting, but how do we narrow it down?”

  “Genetti assumes his ex is sleeping with someone. If she has any knowledge of Bitcoin and the robberies, that’s the person helping her.”

  Furious clicking came through the speaker. “I’ll check any security footage and published photos of the mayor.”

  “Let me know what you find.”

  “Kerrie, where are you going now?”

  “I’m in Arcadia. I thought Agent Carlow should pay a visit to the mayor.”

  “Not a good idea, Kerrie. What if she’s suspicious?”

  “She won’t be.”

  Fifteen minutes later, I was at Arcadia’s City Hall. When I flashed my badge at the receptionist, the woman immediately told me to take the center elevator to the top floor. As soon as the doors opened, I was greeted by the mayor’s security team. They didn’t pat me down. Rather, they escorted me to the mayor’s office.

  Gena Simpson, standing behind her desk, had her back to me. “That will be all, gentleman.”

  The doors closed behind me, and the woman turned around. “Agent Carlow, is it?”

  “Yes.”

  Her mouth twisted before she waved a hand toward a chair. “I understand you visited my ex-husband today.”

  Interesting. She wasn’t denying the affiliation.

  Mayor Simpson continued, “I find it odd that the Feds would go to him for information about me. All you had to do was ask.”

  A quiver went through my legs, and I immediately crossed them, trying to hide it. “Really? Are you ready to be honest?”

  She gave me a fake smile and folded her hands on top of the desk. “My office has always been about transparency.”

  “The Bureau was recently tipped off about a slew of ransomware attacks on businesses in the Tri-Cities area.”

  “Seriously?” she asked innocently.

  “Mostly banks in Arcadia.”

  “Why would you go to Mario about that?”

  “There’s a connection between the hackers and GSG Enterprises,” I lied. “The trail of ownership links back to Mr. Genetti.” Another lie. We had no such information.

  “Agent Carlow, or whoever you’re pretending to be—”

  “Pretending?”

  “Clearly, you’re a journalist hoping to make a name for herself.”

  I remained quiet, letting her believe those words.

  “GSG has had no connection to those crimes.” She rose to her feet. “I indulged you, but I believe this interview is over.”

  I jumped up and headed to the door.

  “Oh, Miss. I don’t know what newspaper you work for, but if you come around me or my ex again, I’ll make sure you’re arrested.”

  Slipping out of her office, I considered myself lucky. Maybe Josh and Lidia were right. Maybe it was time to close the box on the case. Just consider it another unsolved mystery. How on earth could I do that?

  There was one more thing I had to do before I’d give it up.

  Rather than head back to Sentinel, I dropped by the newspaper. When I stopped in front of Tristan’s desk, his expression tightened.

  “What the hell do you want?”

  “Is that any wa
y to treat a source?”

  He glanced over his shoulder and stood. “Not here. Let’s go outside.”

  I followed the man to the parking lot. He didn’t stop, however, until we reached his car. Personally, I would have preferred staying out of it. Not because Tristan scared me. It had to do with the piles of trash in the front and back seats. He pushed it to the floor and gestured for me to get in.

  Closing the door behind me, I said, “I have news for you.”

  “About?”

  “Genetti and Mayor Simpson.”

  Tristan leaned over, opened the glove compartment, and pulled out a worn notebook. He scrounged around until he found a pen. “Okay. Shoot.”

  Poor choice of words.

  I spent the next few minutes detailing everything I’d learned. When I was finished, I sat back and stared through the windshield.

  “That’s some story, Kerrie.”

  Side-glancing at him, I said, “Tris, you can’t use my name. Other than that, I don’t care how you leak it. Follow up on the information. Use it as a lead. Or bury it in a circular file.”

  “Then why tell me? You could have kept it to yourself.”

  He was right about that. “Telling you relieves me of the responsibility. I did my part. If I gave it to the authorities, nothing would happen.”

  Tristan frowned. “I don’t agree with you. Leave it to me, Kerrie. I’ll make sure to handle this the right way.”

  Epilogue

  Justice Has Her Day

  In the end, Justice had her day. The heartless thugs who snuffed the lives of my husband and son were in Rockwood Penitentiary, sentenced to life behind bars without parole. Their lawyer wanted the men sent to Iron Valley. Thankfully, the DA pushed for the maximum-security option. After getting up close and personal with the prison, I was okay with the punishment. Death would have been preferable, but I could sleep at night knowing Joe and Mikey wouldn’t be a threat to anyone else.

  Unknown to me, Debbie had contacts within the FBI. I supposed when you were a notorious computer hacker it was wise to know someone on the inside. Shortly after I left Mayor Simpson’s office, my assistant summoned the heavy artillery.