“They didn’t cover their tracks?” Sawyer asked.
“No. It seems they got cocky.”
Sawyer scoffed. “Idiots.”
“English?” Brean asked.
“Normally you take amounts of money, pool it offshore, then transfer the money either to another offshore, or to somewhere you can access it. But you never transfer the exact amount. It’s too easy to match,” I explained.
“They didn’t do that. The account has been in place for years. We’ve been tracking this for the last eighteen months.”
“This explains how they could afford the solar panels.”
“West Investments,” Luc murmured.
“What?”
He turned to me, frowning. “West Investments. You said you knew the code. You sorted it in less than twenty-four hours.”
I blinked, the puzzle clicking into place. “Crap.”
I surged up from my seat, heading for the door. “I missed it. Crap!”
Together we ran to the bank of elevators at the far end of the basement. I smashed a finger to the button, jumping nervously from foot to foot.
“Damn it. I missed it. How could I have missed that?”
“You couldn’t have known.” Luc paced. I could see his mind racing as he clenched and unclenched his fists.
“But–”
“No.” He cut me off. “Let’s think this through, what information does this give us?”
“Umm… guys?” The elevator dinged as we both turned to see half the team clustered in the walkway behind us. “You want to fill us in?” Kel asked.
Annabelle crossed her arms, one finger tapping on the apex of her elbow. She knew.
I shook my head. “No time. Just… Sawyer? Max? I need…”
“On it.” They shoved past, crowding into the elevator with us. Luc grabbed me, brushing a kiss against my lips.
“I’ll brief them, see you up there.”
I nodded, mind racing.
“We’ll get them, Emmie. This is their mistake.”
I nodded again, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. He let me go, stepping back as the doors closed.
“Em?”
“Right.” I took a deep breath, turning to look at the men beside me. “Shit is about to get real, gentlemen.”
They both grinned. Sawyer looked up at the camera in the corner of the elevator.
“Pete? Tell Addie I’m gonna need a six-pack of Red Bull and a packet of Red Frogs.” He rubbed his hands together. “We’re going to be like Captain America, only more attractive.”
The elevator hit our floor, and we tumbled out, heading for the computers.
“Plan of attack?” I called, logging in.
“We hit small businesses. Banks, financial institutions, investment companies. Any Ma and Pa organisations with shitty security. We run the program we did with West Investments. Log everything,” Max directed.
“Like Annabelle said, they were cocky. Anyone taking bets they’re using the exact same code?”
It took less than twenty minutes to get our first hit. Max found it, a small mortgage broker who’d been compromised. The code wasn’t exactly the same but it had similar characteristics.
“Emmie!” Sawyer called from his side of the room. I looked up, blinking to clear my vision. “I got one. And I’ve worked out why we both felt weird about the code.”
I stood, walking to look over his shoulder. “They’re using West Investment like it’s a bank. The code operates in small amounts, so in a bank, it would be harder to catch. In a place like West Investment, everything is rigorously controlled, and funds are strictly monitored to optimise savings. So how did they slip through?”
He tapped his screen. “This is Lalo Bank. The transactions are the same. The difference is, these are harder to identify when you have an everyday account.” He pulled up on his third monitor the West transactions. “See? They don’t deal in transactions that small.”
I nodded. It was obvious now, when comparing an actual bank account to how an investment account functioned. For something like West Investments? No way it could have hidden this long. The transactions stuck out like a sore thumb.
Sawyer rubbed a finger across his bottom lip. “You said this had been going on for years.”
“Three, I think. Longer maybe, but some of the accounts were closed, so I didn’t bother to access them.” I looked down at Sawyer. “What are you thinking?”
“I don’t know yet.” He waved a hand at me. “Go find a bug. I need to think this through.”
What we were doing was technically illegal. Lucky for us, AFP were working rapidly to get us warrants. As soon as we identified a bank we wanted in, they were putting applications up to get urgent permissions. The turnaround was short, but we were working in the background by calling institutions directly. Permissions from the owner in exchange for a free security check. About half thought we were scammers, the rest were grateful for the assistance.
Two days. Three days. On the fourth, we had a decent picture of the issue.
Sawyer stood up, looking around the office. “Someone call a meeting. We’ve got a war on our hands.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Emmie
“This is….” Luc trailed off, running a hand through his hair as he stared at the white board Sawyer and I had rolled down to the war room. On it, we had a spiderweb of interconnected lines showing the connection between God’s Patriots and the various financial institutions we’d managed to track.
“Overwhelming,” he finally said dropping his hands. “How did they think they’d get away with this?”
I shrugged, tucking myself into his side. He shifted, looping an arm around my shoulders as I hooked my thumb into one of his belt loops.
“Ma and Pa operations rarely have significant investment in cyber security. These guys were fat, little golden geese ready for the plucking.”
Sawyer made a quacking sound behind us. I ignored him.
“The program felt wrong because of the target, not the way it functioned. The banks and brokers charge fees, all of which add up to look like how this theft functions. West Investments takes a commission on their accounts– not a fee. It looked wrong because it should have been blatantly obvious there was an issue.” I looked up at Luc, watching as he followed each of the lines from one institution to the other. There was a list of organizations we were still to approach on the other side.
“This is major money.”
“It’s a hundred-billion-dollar industry,” Annabelle agreed, her arms crossed as she too checked the board. “This is a massive crime. Based on your estimates, we’re talking hundreds of millions of dollars.” She nodded at me. “Good work.”
I offered her a small shy smile. No matter the praise, Annabelle Norris would always freak me out.
“Okay.” She clapped her hands, turning back to the rest of the room. “Theories.”
“This was never about Emmie as an individual,” Kel offered from her seat at the side. She’d been watching us, a small frown wrinkling her forehead. “Emmie’s software was a risk to them. Considering the media attention, we got after her shooting and now with the trial, more people know about Elliot Securities and that is a risk.”
“Which means−” Jack took up her thought thread, “−this was always about the money. More people using our software, higher likelihood of us catching their con.”
“So, they threatened Emmie, tried to get her to leave. Threatened us as a distraction. They hacked our system, no doubt looking for the West files to corrupt them, and when that didn’t work, they aimed to throw Emmie under a bus?” Kel said.
We sat at the long table contemplating the scenario.
I looked at the board, quietly reading over the names once again. I froze, my entire body on alert. The name of one bank stood out.
“Oh my God,” I breathed. “I think I know what this is. They’re planning the end game.”
“The end–”
The door b
urst open and Addie stalked in, hand out to deflect the door as it smashed against the wall, bouncing back towards her. Cheeks flushed and eyes wild, she looked frantically around the room, her gaze finally locking on Luc.
“Luc…” She choked, her eyes filling. “Your house… there’s a fire…”
“A…what?”
“Jack called it in. Some kind of explosion. Fire and police are–”
Luc snatched my hand, pulling me from the table. We dashed up the stairs, scrambling for his car. My heart pounded in my ears as bile burned the back of my throat.
“We don’t know it was… Stay positive. It could be a coincidence,” Luc muttered, weaving in and out of traffic.
It’s them.
Three fire engines and five police cars blocked the street. Luc parked us haphazardly on the sidewalk three houses down. We ran down to the boundary fence, stopping when a policeman blocked our entrance.
Little remained. The roof had collapsed, the fire completely engulfing the inside. Firefighters frantically called directions as their hoses sprayed water over the inferno.
Smoke billowed out, ash floating down to coat our faces and clothes. Luc stood frozen, his eyes on the burning ruin of his house.
The hairs on the back of my neck lifted.
David.
This wasn’t an accident. This wasn’t a loose wire or a leaky gas pipe. They were here.
I pivoted, turning back to the road, hands lifting, ready to bolt. The keys were still in the ignition, my purse in the passenger seat. I could−
Stop.
I forced myself to turn around. Slowly, feet heavy, I walked towards Luc. I lifted my hand distantly noting how it trembled. Inside, I fought every instinct that screamed for me to run. I laid my hand on Luc’s arm, and immediately he turned, sliding over to pull me to his side. I settled there, my arms around him, both of us watching his house slowly break down to embers.
I opened my mouth, words blocked by the lump of guilt in my throat.
“Don’t.” His eyes were still on the flames, his face dotted by ash. Our eyes watered from the smoke. “We don’t know yet. The wiring was shit, it could be an accident.”
But I knew. Even if he didn’t want to admit it.
In the commune I’d watched David destroy people without remorse. He’d start by breaking them piece by piece. First, he’d take their home, then their job, their reputation, and finally, their family. He’d break them down until they had no options, no friends, nothing.
The fire now reduced to glowing embers and pieces of charred wood and stone, Luc turned to me.
“Your comics.” Grooves I’d never noticed before scarred his face.
I squeezed him. “Comics can be replaced, you can’t. Why are you worrying about my things? That’s your entire life gone. Your medals? The photos of your team?” I asked.
“Pax has back-ups and the medals can be remade.” He rubbed a hand over his face, smearing the ash. “Our life was meant to start in that house.”
I shrugged. “We can rebuild.”
“I wanted you to feel like you belong. I wanted to give you somewhere you felt safe.”
“I do.” I squeezed him. “It’s right here.”
His thumb grazed the apple of my cheek. “Forgive me?”
A cough interrupted our moment. Our heads twisted to the two police officers hovering nearby.
“Mr Falco?” one asked.
“Yes?” Luc kept his arms tight around me.
“We’ve got some questions, if now is a good time?”
He looked back down at me. “You okay?”
I nodded. He dropped his arms, taking my hand. “Do we need to go to the station or…?”
“We can do the preliminary here. We’ll need an official statement, but I expect that can wait.”
We followed the officer down the street towards a patrol car, away from the crowd and cameras that had arrived. The officer lifted a pen and notepad.
“Do you have any ID on you?”
Luc reached for his back pocket. “Fuck, it’s in the car.”
“I can grab it.” I squeezed his hand. “I’ll just be a second.”
Luc shook his head. “No, we’ll both–”
“I’ll take her.” The second officer offered. “Your friend Mr Elliot has filled us in on the potential motivation.” He pointed off to the side where Pax, Brean, and Jack were all standing. They had phones raised to their ears or were talking to officers. Their eyes were on the crowds as they kept watch.
I offered Luc a reassuring smile. “See? I’ll be fine.”
Luc frowned, his dark brows pulling low as he looked from me to the officers and back. “It’s the black Alfa up the street.”
“We’ll be right back,” the second officer promised.
I led the way, dodging hoses, weaving between emergency crews and ducking under police tape. The scene was chaos. Luc’s house was big and the fire had been fierce.
“It’s arson, right?” I asked the officer as I hit the locks, pulling the passenger door open.
“They’re still investigating,” he said as I leaned into the car, my butt sticking out as I fished Luc’s wallet from the centre console.
“What do they…” I froze, cutting myself off. Something hard and cold dug into the middle of my back.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” the officer explained, pressing the metal deeper into my back. “You’re going to slowly get in the car. You’re going to sit in the passenger seat and not make a sound. We’re going to drive off and you’re not going to kick up a fuss. You get me?” He twisted the metal deeper, bruising my skin.
“Yes.”
“Good.” He pulled back, and I slipped into the front seat. He came around the car, gun low but visible. Sliding into the driver side, he held out a hand and I placed the keys in it. With his free hand, he kept the gun trained on me as he started Luc’s car.
My eyes searched the heaving mass of people. A fire truck blocked me from Luc’s view. Brean and Jack had their backs to me. I couldn’t see Pax. Damn.
The officer backed the car up, turning. We drove away from the scene, and I had a hysterical thought.
This is what a kidnapping felt like. Double damn.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Luc
“Tell me again how something like this happens?” I didn’t care if I sounded like a crazed lunatic, I wanted some fucking answers.
“The guy was new, the paperwork said he’d transferred in from…” The police officer trailed off. “There’s really no excuse.”
Annabelle slapped her palm on the table, the officer flinching. “No, there isn’t. Get out.”
The guy scrambled up and out of the room. We were back in the War room. Emmie had been missing for approximately forty-five minutes. They could be anywhere. The police had issued an alert for my car, but we’d heard squat. I dragged hands through my hair, pulling at the roots. “We have to find her.”
“This is about the money,” Annabelle commented, walking across to our whiteboard. “Emmie is a distraction.”
“Emmie is a fucking hostage, we can’t–”
She cut me off. “Pull it together, Falco.” She tapped the board. “You want to find them, follow the cash.”
“What did she mean the end game?” Pax asked, looking from me to Annabelle.
I had no answer.
Sawyer sat at the back of the room frantically typing.
“Anything?” This waiting and wishing was getting us fucking nowhere.
Please, God, give us something.
“Maybe. Give me a minute.” He waved me off with one hand. The seconds crept by as he concentrated.
I paced, eyes darting from the board, to the list of names and back.
“Shit,” Sawyer muttered.
“What?” I crowded in looking over his shoulder. “What’ve you got?”
He pointed at the screen. To me it was a bunch of meaningless numbers and letters. “I followed the cash. They need
Emmie to get the payload.”
“Explain,” Pax demanded, crossing his arms.
“She’s good. Damn fucking good. The accounts she set up when she was one of their pawns? They’re still live. She designed a program to siphon money from their accounts to her own. It took them years to realise they were losing out. They can’t crack it. They need her.”
“Why?”
“How do I explain? She’s used an advanced encryption algorithm that I’m prepared to say even a supercomputer can’t crack. And she did that ten years ago. Ten fucking years. Do you understand how extraordinary this is? These bastards can’t work out which alias she used or where the money is hiding. But judging by the transfers, the account itself would have millions. Hundreds of millions sitting in it.” Sawyer navigated to another screen. “And your cult has just purchased land in Russia. A country with whom Australia doesn’t have an extradition treaty.”
“Fuck.” I ran a hand through my hair. “It was never about her. Emmie’s just the key to their money.”
“Do you have flight logs?” Paxton demanded.
Sawyer hit some keys, then shook his head. “They’re either doing this last minute, are doing the private gig, or they’re using aliases. Either way nothing is popping. No big groups heading out, not that I can pinpoint. But I’m stretched. Max is on it.”
“You’re in flight manifests? Wait, no. I don’t have time right now.” Annabelle shook her head. “I’ll put a call out to exit ports. Immigration will be on the lookout for her.”
Kel frowned. “The photo you have is current, but I doubt they’ll let her leave the country. Too many people, too much risk. They’ll force her to sign over the alias, kill her, then mock up some death certificates to get the money.”
Fuck.
I buried the fear. I didn’t have time or energy to spare on that fucking shit. I needed to be present.
“We need to find them. Now,” Pax declared pushing up from the table.
“Got a lead!” Sawyer yelled.
Thank God.
I leaned close, eyes narrowing on the screen. He had camera footage. My car. “Thirty minutes ago, the guy stopped at a red light on O’Halloran Circuit in Kambah. The CCTV footage caught the license plate.”
Bleeding Edge: Elliot Security (Elliot Security Series Book 2) Page 21
