Reagan Through the Looking Glass (Hacking Wonderland, #1)

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by Allyson Lindt




  Reagan Through the Looking Glass

  Hacking Wonderland #1

  Allyson Lindt

  This book is a work of fiction.

  While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by Allyson Lindt

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Acelette Press

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Blurb

  Other Books in this Series

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Epilogue

  The Hatter and The Hare Chapter One

  The Hatter and The Hare Chapter Two

  Also By Allyson Lindt

  About the Author

  Blurb

  To most people, Jabberwock is a myth.

  A horror story that politicians and CEO's tell their interns, about a mysterious figure who pulls the strings of the world's most powerful, from the shadowy corners of the deep web.

  Reagan knows he’s real. Jabberwock is the reason people around her are dying. First her brother, then her student advisor. She's close to discovering his identity, but that puts her directly in his crosshairs.

  Two men insist they can keep her safe and help her find answers. Hare is sweet, soft-spoken, and introduces her to a wicked walk on the wild side, spiced with temptation and thrill.

  Hatter has kept secrets from her since they met. But he speaks her language, and a single touch from him ignites her desire.

  As she follows the tracks down the rabbit hole, Reagan is dropped headfirst into a world of the dangerous and surreal, where everything and everyone has a price. And her time is running out to discover if it's the Hatter or the Hare who owns Jabberwock's bounty on her.

  Author's Note: This book is part one of a duet. It does not stand alone. Book two is The Hatter and The Hare.

  Other Books in this Series

  The Hatter and The Hare (Hacking Wonderland Book 2)

  For my eternal dragon

  Chapter One

  Wayne Dickinson nearly always sounded like he was on the verge of panic. Though he was on the other end of the line, his out-of-breath ranting told Reagan he paced as he spoke.

  “You need to find a way out tonight.” He’d be ringing his hands or peering out the window through the blinds. “Rent a car— No.” She heard the blinds snap shut. “Don’t do that. You’d have to use a credit card. Fuck.”

  Every time he cried wolf, Reagan jumped. Not today. “And changing my flight requires ID. Oh. I could use an internet cafe, bounce my signal a few times, and schedule a series of Ubers from here back to there. It would mean driving all night, but it would make me difficult to trace.” As she talked, she wove her way through the crowds at the Cesar’s Palace convention center.

  “That’s brilliant.”

  “Wayne. I’m not doing that.” She couldn’t keep the exasperation from her voice. When they were in class or in front of other students, he was Professor Dickinson, but he insisted on Wayne whenever professionalism wasn’t required. It was one of the reasons she liked having him as a thesis adviser—he didn’t care for unnecessary formality.

  That appreciation was offset on days like today, when he gave into rampant paranoia. “This is real. It’s not a hunch. I’m not imagining things. You and I need to get off the grid today. We can figure out the details once we’re out of harm’s way.”

  When she started working with Wayne, she freaked out every time he did. Someone was trying to kill him, was stalking her, was monitoring all their text communications—the list went on. Nothing ever came of it, and he was never able to prove his suspicions beyond I just know. It probably came with the territory. As a digital-security expert, he had a scary grasp on those things that went bump in the virtual night.

  It was why she sought him out in the first place, but she wasn’t going to become him—the conspiracy theorist with the aluminum hat, who thought the government was monitoring their every word. She was going to remain normal for as long as possible.

  “I’m staying here.” She paused outside the exhibit hall, picking a spot away from the exit. “There’s a day left.”

  “Alice.” He called her that because she was chasing Jabberwock. If he was using it now, it was meant to remind her she was dealing with someone who was unstable enough to call themselves Jabberwock.

  She rolled her eyes. “Tell you what—I’ll turn off my phone as soon as I hang up with you. That way, no one can trace my signal, and I’ll be impossible to find for the next twelve hours.” They both knew that wasn’t an effective solution, but it would keep him from calling her back.

  “No—”

  “See you tomorrow.” She disconnected, powered off her phone, and dropped it in her purse.

  Like him, certain pieces of data impacted her decisions and direction, but she let determination drive her forward rather than push her into a corner. The only way to find her answers to what had happened to her brother was to dig into the dark and terrifying. This trip was research mixed with pleasure, and there was no way she was calling it off early because Wayne decided now was an appropriate time to go on high alert.

  Alex always accused her of letting desire and a thirst for that next rush of adrenaline override common sense. Maybe he was right, but it hadn’t been an issue to date.

  She strolled into the hall. Where to go first? She’d been through multiple times, but each trip she found something new. As she wandered the aisles of booths, Wayne’s warning gnawed at her thoughts, the way his paranoia always did. What if this was the one time he was right? The answers she searched for—what she claimed was her thesis research—were tied to more than a few illegal markets. Not that she was doing anything outside the law, but her target had his fingers in anything and everything most people preferred to keep secret.

  She was following the trail of Jabberwock. The Keyser Söze of the deep web. It was rumored he could connect anyone, if they could pay his price. But that was all it was—rumors. There wasn’t any proof he was more than a name people used when they wanted to conduct illicit business. He was that well digitally hidden.

  Reagan knew he was real as surely as she knew she was in Las Vegas. He’d killed her brother. More likely had Alex killed, rather than pulling the trigger himself, but Jabberwock was at the center of it all.

  For five years, she’d been looking, and had found hints here and there that brought her closer, but she could never quite crack through to Jabberwock’s identity. When she met Wayne in a conspiracy theory forum, it t
ook her years to develop a bond of trust. When she reached that point where he was willing to share his real name, she went out of her way to apply for the Master’s program at the school where he taught.

  She worked with him under the premise of him being her Master’s thesis advisor. The paper and degree were real, but her motivation behind both weren’t what they appeared in her records.

  The paper’s purpose was to show that digital communication—phones, texts, the internet, and even the deep web—could never truly be secure, because people weren’t perfect. Even the most cautious, highly trained individual let something slip.

  Wayne was already obsessed with Jabberwock. She didn’t need to nudge him toward it, and with his help, she found a trail that pointed to something other than rumors.

  She wasn’t sure yet what she’d do when she found Jabberwock. The bold, brash part of her thought maybe she’d shoot him. Alex had taught her how to use a gun, and she was good. But not cold-blooded-killer good. She still had a conscience. One thing was certain—she was going to ask Jabberwock why Alex? Her brother might have made some missteps, but he didn’t deserve a fate like having his life taken so early.

  She shoved the rambling thoughts aside. If she followed the path of what Jabberwock was capable of, she’d dive headfirst into Wayne’s panic.

  An urban legend of an internet kingpin didn’t care about a Master’s student from Utah. She should enjoy the technology in front of her and learn what amazing advances had been made in internet security.

  She approached a booth displaying a hardware solution that promised new and unhackable levels of encryption and compression. The one thing these companies never considered was that it didn’t matter how difficult it was for a computer to crack your data, if you accidentally gave your identifying information to the stranger on the train. Not that most people had to worry about that. Some of the most paranoid individuals didn’t have data worth stealing.

  “Excuse me.” Reagan tried to catch the attention of one of the two men working the display. They might as well be clones. Identical jackets, ties, and haircuts, but one was a brunette and one blond.

  Tweedle-Blondie glanced in her direction, then turned back to his tablet.

  “I have a few questions about your product.” She spoke in a distinct, firm tone.

  Tweedle-Dee looked her up and down. “I’m with someone else. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

  Reagan clenched her jaw. She wasn’t sure which part of her appearance made this difficult, but she suspected her torn jeans, and Wonder Woman T-shirt didn’t scream big money. Make a scene, or go look up the information she wanted online? What were the odds these two could answer her questions, anyway?

  “What do you think?” a male voice asked.

  When no one answered, she whirled and realized a guy was looking at her. And—holy fuck—he was hot. Dark hair trimmed short, and a suit that hugged his body like it was made for him. Maybe it had been. She didn’t know a lot about expensive suits, and usually their owners put her off, but the hint of tattoo above his collar and the way he studied her with piercing green eyes made her willing to stash the prejudice.

  “Me?” Wow. That was less than brilliant. “About what?”

  “The product.” He nodded at the booth, a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth. “Worth it?”

  “Good afternoon.” Tweedle-Blondie stepped up next to them, hand shoved toward the new arrival. “I’m Jake, and I’m happy to answer any questions you have about our hardware.

  Reagan’s irritation surged back up, but it vanished quickly when Suit-Guy kept trained his gaze on her, ignoring Jake and his greeting. “Well?” Suit-Guy asked.

  “I’d skip it.” She was being a little spiteful, but there was honesty behind her response.

  “We can talk over here if you’d like.” An edge crept into Jake’s voice.

  Suit-Guy turned his back to Jake, which brought his shoulder to rest against Reagan’s. “Why?”

  She couldn’t hide her smile. “If it’s anything like their previous version, it’s a Meraki imitator, with some older compression and a back door that leaves it vulnerable to war drivers.”

  “Bullshit.” Jake spat the word out.

  Suit-Guy finally looked at him. “Oh? So you’ve fixed those issues, then.”

  “They never existed. Our hardware VPN is solid and top of the line.”

  “I’m sorry, this isn’t going to work for me.” Suit-Guy shook his head. “I expect you to lie to me about your product, but this young lady knows what she’s talking about, and I won’t abide the rudeness.”

  Jake’s face flared red, and he narrowed his eyes at Reagan. She shrugged and turned away.

  Suit-Guy fell into step beside her as she meandered down the aisle.

  As soon as they were out of earshot, she gave him a grateful glance. “Thank you.”

  “You had it under control. But I am curious about something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Why were you waiting to talk to them if you already knew?” he asked.

  The question made her pause. She knew the answer, but not the right way to phrase it. She didn’t mind pissing off Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Blondie, but Suit-Guy was nice scenery. She’d like to enjoy his company a little longer. “I wanted to know...” She sighed. Might as well lay it out all plain-like. “The latest version has the flaws too. I wanted to know what language they’d use to spin its shortcomings. If they’d paint it as a feature or unnecessary, or something else.” Because buzzwords that covered flaws were as much a part of her thesis as anything.

  “That makes sense.” He chuckled. “Are you liking anything you see, or is it about finding the holes in their offerings?”

  “Both. Nothing’s bulletproof, but there are a few new products that come closer than in the past.” Normally she didn’t talk like this with anyone except Wayne and some of her classmates. It made her come off as arrogant and cynical. She was just practical.

  The way he looked her way every few seconds, focused on her and not something past her, made her feel as if he was genuinely interested.

  She liked the attention and that he could keep up. “I was looking at Glommettech and their firewall. Did you check that out?”

  He was close enough his arm brushed hers with each step.

  They were halfway down the next row, before she admitted to herself she was more focused on that and him than on the exhibits. “It’s good stuff. I’d have to poke it a little, to see what they’re not saying, but I was impressed.”

  Their wandering took them away from the booths and toward the exit. She should thank him for his time and head back in. Walking away from the crowds with a stranger was a bad idea on the best of days, and with Wayne’s warning hanging out there, it seemed borderline irrational.

  It also rushed through her veins with temptation and the promise of something more-than-ordinary.

  It didn’t hurt that she swore a spark flowed between her and Suit-Guy.

  “Watch it.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer, as a hotel employee barreled in the other direction, pushing a refreshment trolley. His grip was firm, possessive, and oh-so tempting. And abruptly gone. “Didn’t want your toes to get trampled.” He nodded at her sandaled feet.

  Considerate, observant, and intelligent. He was almost too good to be true. What was the catch? If there was no catch, there was no risk, no fun, and no reward.

  They turned another corner and followed a path around the outer edge of the hotel lobby.

  “I have a confession to make,” he said.

  And there was the catch. “Oh?’

  “I’ve seen you around, the past couple of days. You kind of stand out in a crowd.”

  He’d been watching her? Wayne’s panicked warning raced back and her pulse kicked up another gear. It wasn’t fear that gnawed her gut, it was curiosity. “I’m not sure if that’s creepy or flattering.” It was only creepy if the attraction didn’t flow both ways,
right?

  “A little of both, I’m sure.” His words were an eerie echo of her thoughts. “But it’s not what it sounds like.” He was leading her toward a lower-traffic part of the convention center. “You’re the one person I’ve seen here who understands what people are selling and knows enough to see through the hype. And I’m hoping to get your opinion about hardware.” He nudged her into an empty room.

  Odd place to have a conversation about hardware. Unless he wanted to show her his. Definitely out of the ordinary. Logic told her she should be on alert, but fuck, Alex might have been right—her drive for thrills may get her in trouble tonight.

  The abrupt notion flared scorching through her veins. Suit-Guy didn’t emit any sort of warning signal though. Reason said walk away, but her instinct trusted him, and the war inside heightened her desire to see what next. She shouldn’t be turned on by the idea, but God help her, she was picturing his broad shoulders under that jacket. What he’d look like shirtless. Those cool, pale eyes trailing over her naked body.

  And she wasn’t above a little prompting, to see if he was interested in the same. “Is that a thinly veiled euphemism? Some kind of weak pick-up line? Come back to my room, and we’ll see if my hardware fits your wetware. Or I bet my dongle would be a perfect fit for your socket.”

  The only problem Reagan had with casual sex was that sometimes finding it was more difficult than she’d like. Her last roommate was horrified to learn Reagan didn’t do relationships, but that kind of emotional attachment was another thing that got in the way of her search. Of her goals. Sometimes a girl wanted more to get off with than her vibrator, but Reagan liked brains with her dick, and that seemed to be a tough order to fill. This guy offered enough of both to intrigue her.

  Okay, that was an understatement. In her mind, she was lying naked under him, moaning in pleasure as he stretched her out.

  He raised his brows. “Tell me you’ve never heard lines like that.” Disbelief peppered his statement.

  “Once or twice.”

  He backed her against the wall, a few feet from the door, and the scent of spice and musk filled her senses. His breath was hot on her cheek. “If I was propositioning you, you’d know.” Despite his low voice, she heard the deep tone loud and clear. “I’d say something like, how do you feel about leaving these stuffy suits behind, heading back to my room, and letting me fuck you until you can’t walk?”

 

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