Tracker Hacker

by Jeff Adams

  “We’ve got it,” Yoshi said. “We were able to lock on to Winger’s watch after his rather unconventional message.” Dad shot me a smile and it warmed me. “We’ve got a team on the way.”

  “We’ll stand by,” Dad said, moving toward the desk I was at. “We’ll leave this channel open as well, since it’s our only mode of communication.”

  “Very good. We’ll see you soon,” Yoshi said.

  I leaned back in the chair, and Dad nodded at me. He said nothing and yet said everything. I knew we’d have plenty of time to talk later, but I took from that nod that not only was he proud of me as he’d already said, but was thanking me too.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “YOU REALLY did a number on these systems,” Lorenzo said as he sifted through data at what used to be Angel’s station.

  TOS had been in control for about an hour now, and Mom, Yoshi, and Lorenzo were all here. They’d found Coach, unconscious but alive, in a room that sounded similar to the one I’d been in. At least the Blackbird agents had dressed his wound before they left him. He went to the hospital along with the other injured people.

  John had helped with the takeover. Once I lifted the mind control, another TOS agent freed him.

  The Blackbird agents taken from the control center had their hands zip-tied. I didn’t know what was going to happen to them. What were the rules for one secret organization sabotaging another?

  “I tried,” I said, looking over Lorenzo’s shoulder. “I figured maximum damage would at least keep them from grabbing more people, if I failed to release the agents who were here.”

  “It was super smart that you backed everything into the cloud so we can analyze all of it,” Yoshi said. “It appears that Raven was just working this cell. Blackbird’s large and the data might give us a hint into taking out the entire organization.”

  I nodded and then grabbed for Lorenzo’s chair as the world spun before me.

  “Whoa,” Yoshi said, stabilizing me before I fell into him.

  “Here, sit.” Lorenzo stood and then spun his chair my direction. “You okay?”

  I took a couple deep breaths and tried to sort out what was happening. I still hurt and the pain only got worse as I calmed down. I needed food. When had I last eaten? I was a little dizzy, but I couldn’t figure out the exact cause—hunger, tiredness, the day catching up, or all of the above.

  “Winger?” Mom asked.

  I hated that I was weaker than these guys. I used to think I could tackle anything.

  “Sorry,” I said, reaching for a bottle of water I’d been sipping from. “Doc, let’s get back to it.”

  “No,” Yoshi said, raising his hand. “Winger, Defender, Snowbird, we can handle this. Why don’t you three go and we’ll debrief later?”

  “It’s okay. I can finish with Doc. It’ll be faster that way.”

  I refused to be the weak link.

  “I’m just going to pack it all up and wipe the equipment. We can analyze everything when we’re at home base,” Lorenzo said.

  Mom and Dad traded a look that I couldn’t interpret.

  “I’ll stay behind,” Mom said. “Yong Chi and I can lock it all down.”

  Yoshi nodded.

  Damn. Whatever went between Mom and Dad got to Yoshi too.

  “Come on, Winger,” Dad said, putting his arm around me. “We’ll get some food and clean up. I know I need that and I bet you do too.”

  I nodded, a little defeated I wasn’t doing my job. I didn’t have the strength to argue, though. Food would be good, and a shower would be kinda awesome.

  “Shotgun’s standing by to drive you to your temporary quarters and go over the cover story. Rosepetal will take you to him.”

  A woman who’d arrived with Yoshi and Mom stood nearby, clearly ready to take us to John.

  “I’ll see you soon—” Mom paused, clearly swallowing a word. “—Winger.” She managed a smile but still looked troubled.

  Dad still had his arm around me and it stayed there as we followed Rosepetal out. We were silent as we meandered through corridors.

  “You did this” came a shout as we passed through an intersection. “I should’ve decked you when I had the chance.”

  It was Westside. He struggled against the two people who held his arms. His hands were behind his back so I guessed he was zip-tied like the others. He looked angrier than even Raven had when he was taken away. The agents stopped him and didn’t allow him to come any closer.

  “Come on,” Dad said, trying to nudge me forward.

  I debated giving him a smartass remark, but I didn’t have it in me. We locked eyes for a moment before I walked away.

  “This is far from over. I’ll make sure people know exactly who did this.”

  “We’ll see about that,” said one of the agents restraining him.

  “Owww.” Westside cried out.

  I didn’t look back.

  Finally we got to a loading dock where a single black van, with no windows in the back, waited, engine running. For a moment I flashed back on the kidnapping and had to stop myself from running away. It was ridiculous; Dad was at my side and John was visible in the side mirror. Dad and I got into the back, and Rosepetal closed the doors as we settled in.

  Unlike the kidnapper’s van, there were benches along both sides. I dropped onto one and Dad sat across from me and buckled his seat belt. I did the same. I was beat up enough. I didn’t need a bumpy van ride adding to it.

  “Here we go,” John said. “We’ll be to the temporary hotel in about fifteen minutes.”

  I wondered why it was a different hotel but not enough to ask about it.

  “I’m so sorry, Theo,” Dad said.

  “Why?” I gave him a confused look. He’d done everything he could.

  “I had a gun on you. I hit you upside the head. I shot Coach in front of you. If Raven had commanded me to shoot you, I don’t think I could’ve stopped myself.”

  So many thoughts swirled in my head. I didn’t know what to say. Between the kidnapping and the past couple of days here, life was unbelievable. I was in a movie I wasn’t sure I wanted to be in.

  But if I wasn’t in the movie, what would’ve happened? Could Lorenzo have gone in and done what I’d done? There’s a reason TOS had me working with them. Would this have played out the same? Would TOS have won the day? Or would Dad be gone? And maybe Mom too.

  “Well, that didn’t happen,” I finally said. “We beat the bad guys.”

  “You beat the bad guys,” he said. “There was no we there.”

  “Sure there was. After I brought the system down, I had no other moves. If you hadn’t been there, I’d probably be… who knows. Locked up, beaten—”

  “Stop,” he interrupted. “Don’t think about that.”

  I nodded. I’d rather not. I had a feeling I’d be thinking about it for a long time, though. I knew I was okay. I was confident Dad wasn’t going to pull a gun on me again anytime soon. It didn’t change that I could easily replay any number of scenes I’d rather not have permanently etched in my mind. If only I could wipe those out as easily as I’d wiped that network.

  “It’s more important than ever we get you into counseling,” Dad continued.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “No. This has been a lot, Theo. TOS will insist you debrief with someone and counseling will be mandatory. What you’ve just been through is a lot for any agent. For what it’s worth, I’ll be seeing a counselor too. What I’ve done is horrible, and I already know I need help with it.”

  At least he didn’t call me a kid. I don’t think I’d think of myself that way ever again.

  I nodded. The nods turned into quakes. And before I realized what was happening, I was crying. Actually sobbing was more accurate.

  Dammit.

  I tried to wipe the tears away, but they wouldn’t stop. Dad unbuckled, moved in next to me, and held me tight. It felt good. Sometimes you just needed a hug from family.

  “I’m sorry,” I s
aid as it became more obvious I couldn’t stop myself.

  I hated falling apart this way, especially as some of the louder sobs came out. What would John think?

  “Theo, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for. I couldn’t be prouder of what you’ve done today, and I’m sure there’s more to the story than I know.”

  He held me quietly for a few moments.

  “And I’ll tell you,” he continued, “there’ve been missions where I had to walk away and cry. Your mother’s held me many times, and I’ve done the same for her. Even when the mission ends up a win, you have to release the accumulated stress.”

  I nodded as he pulled me tighter into his chest. I buried my head there just like I’d done when I was much smaller.

  “We’re here,” John said after he parked the van. He paused until I finally pulled back from Dad. “Here’s a key.” Dad grabbed it. “Go directly to room four twenty-three. Theo, there’s a change of clothes from your luggage. Victor, we picked up some stuff for you.”

  I continued to shake, although I was calming down a bit. I feared this would be a recurring thing over the coming days.

  “A doctor’s on the way to check you both out,” John continued. “I also took the liberty to have sandwiches delivered. They should already be there. One agent is in the next room, just in case. He’ll bring electronics shortly. Lorenzo got some new things ready for Theo.”

  Lorenzo was awesome. And when did he have time for that? I dried my eyes with my sleeve.

  “You ready?” Dad asked.

  I nodded, afraid if I spoke, I’d end up crying all over again. We were at another loading dock, and Dad took us to the freight elevator. In no time we were in our room. The room was standard issue: two beds, a desk, and a dresser. It was a simple box, much like the room at the tournament hotel.

  A duffel bag was on each bed and there was a platter of sandwiches on the desk. There was enough for a dozen people, but I guessed John was going for variety and not that he thought we’d eat that much.

  I was hungrier than I realized. My mouth watered and my stomach rumbled.

  “You should eat,” Dad said. “You were down there for six or seven hours.”

  It was dark outside. I hadn’t paid attention in the van. I grabbed a sandwich and went to the window, looking out through the gauze drapes.

  The sandwich was chicken salad. Good choice for a blind grab.

  A sharp two knocks sounded at the door. Dad’s hand dropped to his gun, holstered at his side. He looked out the peephole.

  “Yes?”

  “Ranger here.” I barely heard the response.

  Dad opened the door and stepped aside. The two shook hands as Ranger came fully into the room and dropped another duffel on the bed.

  “This has phones, earpieces, plus a tablet for Winger.”

  Lorenzo took such good care of me. I didn’t really need a tablet here, but he knew I’d want one sooner rather than later.

  “Thank you,” Dad said.

  “I’ll leave you two,” Ranger said. “I’m right next door, and once you’re on comms, you can call if needed.”

  They shook again before Ranger left.

  I took another sandwich and wolfed it down. It wasn’t as good, tuna, but at least it was food.

  “You want to hit the shower first?” Dad asked as he opened the duffel and pulled out a small box. From where I was, I could see the label that identified it as his earpiece.

  “Yeah,” I said, finally finding my voice again. “I’ll probably feel better after.”

  “Probably,” he said, nodding. “Theo, remember, anything you feel, you can just put it out there. I can tell you’re disappointed with yourself right now, but there’s no reason to be.”

  “Thanks,” I said quietly. “It’s hard.”

  “I know.”

  He hugged me again. I craved that contact. The hug in the van wasn’t enough. I held this hug for a long time before finally turning my attention to the duffel bags to figure out which was mine.

  I retreated to the bathroom and studied myself in the mirror. I was a mess. My shirt and jeans looked like I’d rolled around in the dirt. There was a massive bruise on the side of my head. I ran my fingers over the damage and flinched. It reminded me of Eddie’s injury from when his Jeep was smashed. And what was I going to tell him about this? I hadn’t heard the cover story yet, but I hoped it was a good one. He was going to be so angry that I just disappeared on him.

  How did Mom say nothing about this bruise when she saw me? It must have taken all her resolve not to freak out.

  I pulled the shirt over my head, carefully because my joints all hurt. The games plus the pummeling I took from Blackbird over the past two days compounded to make me feel awful.

  There were new bruises on my chest alongside ones I recognized from this morning.

  At least toeing off my sneakers didn’t hurt, but moving to get my socks off and stepping out of my jeans and underwear pained me far more than I expected. I had a huge bruise on my right hip. Where’d that come from?

  I looked awful, and I couldn’t stop staring at myself. How was I going to explain not just to Eddie but the team for the tourney, not to mention back home? These injuries were much harder to ignore than yesterday’s.

  I shook my head at the reflection before finally turning away to focus on the shower. The water was just a touch under scalding. While the room itself was plain, at least the showerhead had a massage setting and good water pressure.

  I stepped in. The heat coaxed my body into relaxing. The water stung as it hit tender areas of skin, but overall it felt great.

  My thoughts were all over the place. I’d done good. I knew that. I’d sabotaged Blackbird’s system and ended their control of TOS agents. But I could’ve been severely injured—or killed—more than once in the past couple of weeks. I’d been safe behind my keyboard, but now they knew about me because of a chip I hadn’t even known I’d had.

  It was a lot different saving Mom and Dad, or other agents, from the safety of my room. I knew what the stakes were then. I didn’t like the feeling of being the target.

  I didn’t know if I could do this anymore.

  I didn’t know if I could stop doing it either.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  WHEN I finally looked at my phone, I had a ton of messages from Eddie. Apparently Mom had only sent a single message to him about me being in the hospital after a car accident. No one else contacted him after that, and he was freaking out.

  As we got back to the tournament hotel around two in the morning, I texted him back.

  Sorry. Just got my phone back. I’m back at the hotel and okay. I’ll see you in the morning.

  My phone buzzed in no time.

  Thank God! I was scared. No one told me anything, and it took me a lot of texts and calls to get your mom to tell me anything. Is Coach okay?

  That was part of the cover story, since we both needed one. We’d been out, going to another physical therapy appointment, when we got hit. TOS set it up so if anyone went looking, it’d appear like it actually happened. I certainly felt like I’d been in a major accident.

  Coach is still in hospital, probably for another couple days.

  He’d gotten out of surgery earlier and was recovering, but he wasn’t going to be coming back to Boston with the rest of us.

  You want me to come over? I can sneak out of here.

  Probably not a good idea. I’m wiped and my parents are watching me like a hawk.

  Parents? Your Dad’s here?

  Yeah! He came in to watch the championship game.

  Nice. Okay. I’ll let you rest. If you change your mind though I can be there in like 15 minutes. Get some rest and I’ll see you in the morning.

  Will do. Love you!

  Love you too.

  At least he wasn’t mad at me right now. He’d probably be furious once he saw what I looked like.

  “Eddie doing okay?” Dad asked once I’d set the phone down. “I’m sor
ry we couldn’t manage him better.”

  “S’okay. There was a lot going on.”

  I stretched out on my bed while Dad sat at the desk.

  “The game’s gonna be a bear to play in a few hours,” I said as I flexed my limbs.

  Dad sighed. Always a bad sign. “There’s no way you can play. You may already have a slight concussion. You can’t risk getting hurt even worse.”

  “What?” I flew out of the bed and over to the desk, ignoring the pain signals that came in from every part of me. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m sorry, but there’s no way we can allow you to play. The doctor already advised against it and you’re certainly not up for it. I saw how much pain you were in just getting off the bed. You need to rest and recover. And we have to make sure there’s no chance of concussion.”

  I kicked the garbage can under the desk, sending it crashing into the wall with a loud thump. Moving to the window, I looked out across the darkness lit up by the occasional street lamp. It was quiet out—no traffic or people were visible, but that wasn’t surprising given it was past midnight.

  “I needed to make it right by the team after the crap game I played yesterday,” I said quietly.

  “Do you really think you’d play well in the condition you’re in?” Dad said, coming up behind me, his concerned expression reflected in the glass.

  “I at least have to try,” I said, without facing him.

  He simply shook his head. He was right. There was no arguing it. I needed to play, but realistically the team’s chances were better without me.

  “Your coach already knows you’re out for tomorrow.”

  Dad put his hand on my shoulder, but this time it wasn’t comforting. I’d failed my team and there was no getting around that. I ducked out from his grip and crossed the room to slip into my sneakers.