Next Exit, Dead Ahead

by CW Browning

  “You're right. This is interesting,” John murmured. “So, we have a brilliant young IT genius who was taken away from his North Korean roots at a young age and brought up in the United States. He starts a successful security software firm and everything is going well. Then, one of his employees leaves the firm and goes to work for a national bank.”

  “Six months later, he closes his firm and disappears,” Stephanie continued, her eyes glinting. “He changes his name back to his real one, and guess where he goes?”

  John shrugged.

  “A bank,” he answered. “But which one?”

  “Who do you think the brand new regional vice president was that hired Rodrigo?” Stephanie asked softly.

  Angela strode up to the main door of the tech center in Mt. Laurel just as the sun was going down, her purse over her shoulder and her blackberry in hand. She finished sending an email as a tall man opened the door and held it open. His dark hair was cut unfashionably close to his head and he was dressed in jeans and an old faded sweatshirt. His sneakers were brand new and spotless, however, and Angela noted the G shock watch on his wrist as she stepped into the building.

  “Miss Bolan, thanks for coming in,” Lowell said, holding out his hand. “I'm Lowell Kwan.”

  “Nice to meet you. I'm sorry I got held up. I got here as soon as I could,” Angela said, shaking his hand. Her freshly manicured nails glinted under the fluorescent lights and she admired the glittering dark red as she shook his hand. She glanced around the large foyer as she released his hand. “I've never been in this building before. Does IT have the whole building?”

  “Yes.” Lowell motioned for her to walk with him and started down a long hallway to the left of the entrance foyer. “It's not as fancy as your building, but it serves its purpose. Your badge wouldn't have worked on the door, so I'm glad you called to tell me you were coming.” He smiled at her and his slanted brown eyes were warm and friendly. “Normally, I would have met you at your office to do this, but I'm in the middle of extracting data from three different PCs and really can't leave. Thank you for agreeing to come to me.”

  “No worries.” Angela glanced into the rows of cubicles they were passing. “I want to get this sorted out as soon as possible. I'm still trying to wrap my brain around it all.”

  “I'm sorry to have sprung it on you like this.” Lowell nodded to a side corridor and they turned right. “I thought you knew about Rodrigo's disappearance. I thought everyone in the bank knew.”

  “I didn't know him very well,” Angela answered, following Lowell into a large department filled with half-cubicle walls. Piled on the floor in most of the cubicles were hard-drives, old monitors, and more keyboards than Angela had ever seen. “I saw him last week at happy hour with some friends, but that was about as well as I knew him.”

  “I think that's about as well as anyone knew him,” Lowell admitted. “Rodrigo was on the quiet side. No one saw him again after Monday night. He went to happy hour and that was it.”

  “How surreal!” Angela followed Lowell into a larger cubicle and watched as he dropped into a chair at the desk. He seemed to have laptops and desktops everywhere, all wired into one box on his desk.

  “Yes.” Lowell motioned to a chair and Angela sat down. “Sorry for the mess. These are all his. I'm going through them and copying bank data onto a separate drive.”

  “You said he's dead. Something about his head? Did he hit his head?” Angela asked.

  Lowell glanced at her and hesitated. For the first time since she entered the building, he seemed reluctant to look at her.

  “The police found his head in Mt. Holly,” he finally told her.

  Angela stared at him, shocked. She felt the blood draining out of her face and a faint buzzing began in her ears.

  “I'm sorry...what?”

  “Unreal, isn't it?” Lowell asked, shaking his head. “The police found his head on a pole in Mt. Holly this morning.”

  “On...a...poll?”

  “Yes.” Lowell's gaze strayed to one of his flat-screen monitors and he leaned forward to type something on one of the many machines. When he was finished, he turned his attention back to her. “Outside a prison in Mt. Holly.”

  “A prison?” Angela gasped. “Not the old prison on High Street?!”

  “Yes, I think so.” Lowell nodded. “Do you know it?”

  “I was just there Friday night for the haunted walk they do every year for Halloween,” Angela murmured. She shivered. “How horrible! They just found his head?”

  “That's what I heard,” Lowell answered. “They called me this morning and told me to come in and gather all his equipment. The Feds want the computers, but I have to copy all the proprietary bank data from them first. He was working on some programming we need access to.”

  “The Feds?!” Angela tried to make sense out of what she was hearing. “Why are the Feds interested in Rodrigo?”

  “You got me.” Lowell shrugged. “I'm just following orders. When I started going through his drives and saw he accessed the mainframe, I thought maybe he was up to something. When I saw your username in the logs, I knew something was wrong.”

  “I don't understand any of this,” Angela complained, setting her purse on the desk and leaning forward. “How did he get my username and password? And why mine? And what was he doing?”

  “All good questions, and ones I can't answer, unfortunately.”

  “Well, what did he do when he accessed the mainframe?” Angela demanded.

  Lowell looked at her apologetically and shrugged.

  “I don't know,” he told her. “The logs will have to be analyzed and then maybe we can discover what he was doing. In the meantime, we need to get all your passwords changed to prevent any further security breach.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Lowell nodded and spun around in his chair. He pulled another laptop out of a drawer and set it on the desk in front of her.

  “I'll hook this into the network and then we can go through all the systems and get them all changed,” he told her. “Hang on.”

  He ducked under the desk and emerged a second later with a network cable in his hand, which he plugged into the back of the laptop.

  “You said you're copying all the bank data before the Feds take his hardware?” Angela asked as he powered up the laptop. Lowell glanced at her.

  “Yes. I'm not allowed to remove anything, but I can make copies of the bank files we need,” he said.

  “So, the FBI is going to have access to whatever is on his hard-drives?”

  “Yes.”

  Angela's mind was racing as the full implications of her situation became clear to her.

  “So, they'll see my username and password accessing the mainframe from his hardware,” she said slowly. “Just like you did.”

  Lowell paused.

  “Well...yes, I suppose so,” he said. “Why?”

  “So, essentially, I'm about to be dragged into a Federal investigation as an accomplice!”

  Angela felt her heart start to race and she could feel her blood pressure rising.

  Lowell sat back and stared at her.

  “I see what you're saying,” he said slowly. “Yes, I suppose you are.”

  “This is ridiculous!” Angela exclaimed. “I barely even knew the man! Isn't there some way you can get rid of the logs?”

  “Not without them knowing,” he answered. “I'm sure they'll get to the bottom of it all and they'll find you had nothing to do with it. I wouldn't worry.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Angela muttered. “You're not the one who's going to be suspected of hacking our bank's mainframe! I might as well kiss my promotion goodbye.”

  “I'm sure they'll sort it all out,” Lowell said soothingly. “In the meantime, let's get your passwords changed. Here. We'll start with the main network password and go from there.”

  He turned the laptop to face her and Angela found herself looking at the initial portal into the bank network. She sighed an
d glanced at him.

  “Just sign in?” she asked.

  “Yep. Once you're in, we'll go to the password portal and change it,” he answered.

  Angela leaned forward and typed in her credentials, then waited while the network loaded her profile.

  “It will take a moment for the laptop to build your profile because you've never logged into it before,” Lowell explained apologetically.

  Angela nodded, barely listening to him. Her mind was spinning. An FBI investigation would ruin her career. She worked in anti-money laundering, for God's Sake! This was a disaster! After working her butt off for this company and clawing her way up the ladder, she was going to lose it all over some IT geek she barely knew. It made no sense!

  “Here we go,” Lowell said, leaning forward. Angela looked up to see that the laptop had finished and she was in the network. “Let's get you to the password portal so you can change the network password first.” Lowell was typing as he talked and a second later, she was looking at the change password screen. Angela sighed and thought for a moment, trying to think of a new password she would remember.

  “I hate thinking up passwords,” she muttered.

  “Everyone does,” Lowell chuckled.

  “It's bad enough the system makes us change them every three months as it is,” Angela said, leaning forward as she thought of one. “Now I have to do it off-cycle.”

  “I'm sure I don't have to tell you to make it something completely unique and different from what you had before,” he said, watching as she started to type. The look she shot him made him grin. “Hey, just making sure! I've had people try to use the same word and change the number at the end. Not the brightest thing to do when someone knows your password already.”

  “Lowell, I didn't get to where I am in this company by being an idiot,” Angela informed him, her smile taking the edge off her words. “I'm using something completely different.”

  “Good.” Lowell sat back and picked up an old baseball, tossing it back and forth between his hands. He watched her for a moment, then cleared his throat. “Do you have any idea how Rodrigo got your password?”

  “Not the faintest,” Angela answered, sitting back as the network confirmed the password change. “I don't think I ever even had my laptop around him. As I said, I barely knew him.”

  “Strange,” Lowell murmured. “Done? Ok. One down...”

  “Fourteen to go,” Angela finished for him. He grinned.

  “Let's get moving, then,” he said, leaning forward.

  Damon sipped his water and stared at the picture on the plasma screen. Alina was typing away at the computer next to him in her command center and the sound faded into the background as Hawk stared at the deep-set, dark eyes of Jenaro Gomez. He had heard of the Lieutenant. Everyone had. The man was notorious. Ruthless and cunning, he had a reputation that instilled fear into the hearts of most men. His antiquated torture techniques were as legendary as his penchant for shocking, public executions. He had once disemboweled a man and hung him from a bridge in Mexico as a warning to others.

  Hawk studied the face on the screen for a few more minutes before slowly raising his eyes to stare at an invisible point on the curved ceiling. Charlie and Harry had both warned him separately that Jenaro was in New Jersey. They suspected he was coming after Hawk as revenge for the cartel killings, but they could have saved their breath. Viper was one step ahead of them.

  “What did Charlie have to say about it?” Viper broke the silence as she sat back in her chair. Damon glanced at her, his eyes automatically sliding to her monitor out of long habit. She hit a key and the screen went black. “Stop being nosy.”

  “Just habit,” Hawk answered with a sheepish grin. “Charlie is concerned about how Gomez knew I was here.”

  “We knew he would be.” Alina spun around in her chair and stared at Jenaro pensively. “You know I'm concerned about that myself.”

  “I think Charlie is more irritated that a Mexican Cartel Lieutenant knew where his agent was before he did,” Hawk murmured. He sat back and laced his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. “I'm more interested in why Gomez came himself. He has hundreds of soldiers he could have sent instead. The situation in Mexico is complicated enough. I would think his presence would be more beneficial there, rather than in New Jersey, chasing me.”

  “You underestimate yourself.” Alina smiled faintly. “You're a formidable adversary. And you pissed them off.”

  “Hm.” Damon was unconvinced, but he dropped it for the moment. “Charlie and Harry are both advising extreme caution. I think they would rather I got out of the States, but they know that's not going to happen.”

  “Oh, you won't run away?” Viper asked innocently.

  Hawk glanced at her, laughter glinting in his eyes. Two months ago, he urged her to do just that. She had declined. Emphatically.

  “Touché,” he murmured, returning his gaze to the face on the plasma. “What have you found out about Jessica Nuñez?”

  “Not much yet,” Viper admitted and turned back to her computer. “Everything about her and the husband is squeaky clean. They don't even have an unpaid bill.”

  “No one is that clean,” Hawk retorted, turning his chair around and glancing at her. Her eyes met his and she smiled.

  “I know,” she agreed. “I'll dig it out. There's a connection between her and Gomez. I'll find it.”

  “What about Rodrigo? Did Stephanie tell you anything?” he asked.

  “No.” Alina picked up her forgotten mug, took a sip, and grimaced at the cold coffee. “She's playing her cards close to her chest. She wants my input, but doesn't want to tell me anything. I think she's afraid of me.”

  Hawk turned and studied Alina. Her hands were steady and her face was calm. She didn't appear bothered by what she had just said.

  “Because of what she saw in Virginia?” he asked softly.

  “I think so,” Alina said thoughtfully. “She's been different lately, more reserved. Almost cautious.”

  “That's to be expected,” Damon murmured. “She saw a side of you she doesn't know and doesn't understand.”

  “Mmm,” Alina agreed, swirling her cold coffee in the mug. “John started calling me the Black Widow.”

  Damon let out a bark of laughter.

  “I like it!” he exclaimed, his eyes dancing.

  Viper glanced at him, amused.

  “I thought you would,” she retorted. “He doesn't know I know, of course. Obviously, they were both discomposed with what they saw.”

  “How do you feel about that?” Damon asked after a moment of silence. He encountered a brief, unemotional glance from her.

  “My feelings are irrelevant,” Viper said shortly, standing. “They saw something they weren't meant to see. It's unfortunate, but now they know the truth. How they deal with it is up to them.”

  “As long as they don't compromise you in the process,” Hawk murmured.

  Viper met his measured gaze and nodded slightly.

  “I'm keeping a close eye on them,” she assured him. “I'm going to get fresh coffee. Do you want some?”

  “Please.” Hawk turned back to his computer as she moved down the long, narrow room toward the stone steps leading up to the kitchen. “Viper?”

  She paused and glanced back at him questioningly.

  “Yes?”

  “We need to find out why Gomez cut Rodrigo into pieces,” he told her. “The Fearless Feds are holding that particular card, whether they know it or not.”

  “I'll take care of it,” she promised.

  Hawk watched her disappear up the steps thoughtfully. He had no doubt she would get the information he needed one way or another. His only concern was whether the Jersey Girl he loved would interfere with the Viper he needed.

  Chapter Twelve

  Stephanie sipped her coffee and stared down at the blue Tiffany's box sitting on the bottom step of the prison steps. All in all, it looked cheerful, sitting there on the cold stone step
in the early morning light, wrapped up with the signature white bow. It would have been fairly innocuous, if it weren't for the human tongue nestled inside.

  “No one saw a thing,” John said disgustedly as he came up beside her and looked down at the box. “We had two agents here overnight and neither of them saw anything.”

  “Of course they didn't,” Stephanie muttered. “I'm starting to think we really are dealing with a ghost.”

  “Looks like Lina was right about the meat puzzle,” John said.

  “First his arm, then his head, and now his tongue.” Stephanie stared at the box pensively. “What are they trying to say with all this?”

  “Do you want me to call Stanton?” John asked, referring to the in-house psychologist.

  “Not yet.” Stephanie shook her head and sipped her coffee again. “I still feel like this is all a distraction to keep us away from the real issue.” She glanced at him and smiled ruefully. “Besides, Stanton is creepy.”

  “I won't argue with that,” John agreed. “What do you want to do now?”

  “I'll get the tongue back to Larry so he can confirm it's Rodrigo's,” Stephanie said. “Get a crew together and go through that damn maze at the back again. I want it torn apart. There has to be something somewhere to give some clue as to what the hell is going on.”

  “Got it.” John nodded and motioned to one of the junior agents.

  “Call me if you find anything.” Stephanie turned to motion to a photographer. “I'm going to go visit Phillip Chou and see what kind of reaction I get from him.”

  “You don't think that will spook them?” John asked.

  Stephanie raised her eyebrow and looked at him, amused.

  “If having one of their hackers disappear and then start showing up in pieces hasn't spooked them already, I don't think I can do any worse, do you?” she asked.

  John grinned.

  “Good point,” he said. “Do we have Rodrigo's hardware yet?”

  “Tech is picking it up today,” Stephanie said, moving out of the way so the photographer could get pictures of the Tiffany's box. “I'm also going to stop into the office and see if Matt had any luck with the surveillance video from that cell.”