Exploited (Zero Day #1)

by A. Meredith Walters

  I figured he was someone on the inside. Or at least knew people on the inside. But he wouldn’t say. I didn’t really expect him to.

  His connections were definitely keeping him off the Feds’ radar. No one but me knew that he existed.

  Yet no hacker was immune to discovery. No matter how good they were. Just ask Minotaur20—the seemingly untouchable cybercelebrity.

  23:30 What else am I supposed to do?

  That one question changed everything.

  It set me down a path that it was now far too late to turn away from.

  Toxicwrath suggested I make a more personal connection. That I take a “hands-on” approach. Stop hiding behind the keyboard and find out exactly what was going on with my case.

  23:35 Can’t we just hack the system? Find out that way?

  23:36 Hacking a federal database is harder than that. Don’t be an idiot! It takes more than simple phishing or brute force to get through those layers. We have to go old school.

  “We” meant “me.”

  23:38 What am I supposed to do?

  23:38 Become Mata Hari.

  He couldn’t be serious. I instantly balked.

  23:39 She died by firing squad. I’m not sure I’m cut out for that.

  23:39 Then this partnership is over. It’s the only option if we want to keep doing this. I won’t hang myself out to dry unless I know you’re committed. I’ve proven myself. It’s time you do the same.

  What he was talking about felt wrong. So wrong. I was not the type of woman cut out to play spy. To get close to someone for duplicitous reasons.

  But Toxicwrath reminded me that social engineering was often the only way to infiltrate. To infect.

  I had to catalog vulnerabilities firsthand.

  I had to know how deep the investigation had gone. How close they were.

  It was a matter of self-preservation.

  23:40 What if I fuck it up? What if they figure me out?

  23:41 Don’t get caught. And don’t get too close. That’s the most important thing. They are a means to an end. That’s it. Remember our purpose. Our mission.

  Toxicwrath acted as though it was his mission, his purpose. The implication that I wasn’t committed chafed, but I signed on to do just as my partner asked. His reasons made sense.

  When Mason was assigned my case, Toxicwrath let me know. I had a target.

  A name.

  Some cursory Internet sleuthing gave me a face. I found out when he moved to town. What day he started at the Richmond field office.

  I followed him to work. To the bar. To the apartment of some blond bitch he was apparently sleeping with.

  And I waited. I had gotten good at that over the years.

  I had to find my entrance. At just the right time.

  All the while Toxicwrath fed me information about my mark. He gave me the details of his past cases. The office gossip.

  I knew that Mason had a partner. Another agent assigned to my case. Some basic searching revealed that Perry Winston was a joke in the Bureau. His father, a decorated and high-ranking agent, had pulled a number of strings to get his far inferior son a job out of college. He hadn’t been with the Bureau long. Only eighteen months. Though as a junior agent with little experience, he might have been a better choice. Easier to crack. I wouldn’t have to work as hard.

  When I suggested as much to Toxicwrath, he shot the idea down.

  22:23 You need someone with inside knowledge. Agent Winston can barely tie his own shoes. He wouldn’t know the first thing about what’s really going on with your case.

  22:24 How do you know this? Do you know these agents personally?

  22:24 I know enough. Trust me, Agent Kohler is the one you want.

  Mason Kohler was definitely the more difficult target. But that made it exciting. Cracking him would be the greater victory. I knew it. Toxicwrath knew it.

  Though I was more than a little concerned about how much information my shadow partner had about the agents involved.

  00:45 Are you an agent? Is this some form of entrapment?

  I had to ask it. I was beginning to wonder if I was being set up. I was careful. I had to be.

  00:45 No.

  Did I believe Toxicwrath?

  Yes.

  Deep down I did.

  And my instincts had never proven wrong. My survival had depended on it.

  But…

  00:45 Prove it.

  There was nothing.

  Then…

  00:49 Check your email.

  I opened a five-gigabyte file full of information that could be obtained only by illegal means. Toxicwrath had put himself on the line by sending this to me. He had just incriminated himself. I could easily use this against him. Tear him down with one click of the mouse.

  He was putting his freedom in my hands. That was a lot of power to give someone you didn’t know.

  I didn’t ask him again if he was an agent.

  —

  It didn’t matter anyway. Because my focus was on Mason. On getting to know him.

  Getting close.

  And I had been there, in his apartment. I had seen the case file. I was making headway.

  Toxicwrath was right. Hands on was the best way to save myself.

  But it was slow going and I was starting to worry that I wouldn’t get close enough soon enough.

  This attempted hack into my email and desktop made me paranoid. And I didn’t like feeling that way.

  I started to look into the network breach, searching for the source. Whoever it was had a decent knowledge of what they were doing. They were randomizing their IP address.

  They played around in our system but their target was obvious.

  Me.

  After a few minutes I became frustrated.

  This was a careful and systematic prod. Searching for cracks in my security. If I had been anyone else, I wouldn’t have noticed it. But I had, and now I knew that I was being targeted.

  But by whom?

  —

  “There’s a major vibe going on today. What’s up?” Kyle asked, joining me on a bench outside in the small enclosed courtyard. I had my typical lunch of a chicken salad sandwich and salad out on the table in front of me, but I hadn’t touched it. I had lost my appetite.

  I glanced up as Kyle sat down beside me. He unloaded a bag of potato chips, chocolate pudding, and a bottle of Yoo-hoo. The man ate like he was ten.

  “What do you mean there’s a vibe?” I picked up my sandwich and took a bite. It tasted like cardboard in my mouth. I forced myself to swallow.

  Kyle snorted. “Don’t play stupid, Hannah. Todd and his goons are running around with giant sticks up their asses. And Chuck is standing in his office with an I’m-gonna-fuck-someone-up look on his face.” His expression became sort of panicked. “Is this because of the poop blast?”

  I patted my friend’s back reassuringly. “No, this has nothing to do with that.”

  Kyle let out a breath and opened his bag of chips, offering me some. I shook my head, indicating my uneaten sandwich.

  “So what is it, then? Come on, spill the beans,” Kyle goaded. He wiped his greasy hands on his pants, leaving stains on his thighs.

  I poked at the wilted greens in my Tupperware container. “There was a compromise to our security systems early this morning.”

  Kyle’s eyes widened. “Really? What kind of compromise?”

  “The hacking kind,” I responded vaguely.

  Kyle whistled through his teeth. “Do you know who it was? What did they do? What kind of hack was it? A DDoS? A smurf? Maybe a little salting?” He fired the questions rapidly and too loudly.

  “Shh, will ya?” I snapped, glancing around the crowded courtyard. “Stop throwing around buzzwords that you d
on’t even understand.”

  Kyle didn’t become deflated by my jab like he normally would have. He was too excited by the prospect of Holt IT being hacked.

  “So what was it exactly? Come on, tell me!”

  I sighed. “It wasn’t an attack really,” I found myself saying.

  “What then? Don’t leave me in suspense.” Kyle stuffed a handful of chips in his mouth, crumbs flying everywhere.

  “Whoever it is isn’t stealing data. They aren’t trying to crash our system. They’re just…there.”

  Kyle frowned. “They’re just there? What do you mean?”

  “Like I said, the hacker didn’t really do anything except read a few emails.”

  I wouldn’t tell him exactly whose emails were being read. I still wasn’t sure what I was going to do about it.

  “Like a stalker,” Kyle said with a chuckle. I tried to smile, having a hard time finding the humor in the situation.

  “Yeah, like a stalker.”

  “They must be looking for something. Come on, Super IT Girl, you can figure out what they want.” Kyle nudged me affectionately with his bony shoulder.

  “Well, I’m looking into it.”

  “Chuck must be ready to have a coronary. It won’t look good to the board if an IT security company gets breached.” Kyle cackled in delight. “I bet he’s going to get in so much trouble.”

  “None of us are too happy about it.”

  “Keep me posted. I’ll want to know all the dirt.” Kyle nudged me again and I tried to smile, but it was stiff and didn’t quite come off.

  “Is that what’s bothering you? Because I thought anything that makes Chuck look bad would put a giant grin on that pretty face of yours.” Kyle poked my cheek with his finger and I swatted his hand away.

  “It just means extra work. Not my favorite thing in the world.”

  Kyle looked a little crestfallen. “But if Chuck looks bad—”

  “Then it’s pretty awesome,” I admitted.

  “So maybe our little hacker is really a caped crusader come to take Chuck down!” Kyle fist-pumped the air.

  “Keep your voice down,” I scolded. “And yeah, if that’s all he’s after, then more power to him.”

  As if on cue, Chuck walked through the courtyard, Todd and a few other IT minions on his heels. He looked pissed off, with a tinge of worry. Todd appeared flustered, his fleshy cheeks bright red as he tried to keep up with our boss. I had to admit the whole thing had a certain ring of delayed justice. Maybe, finally, Chuck would get the bitter taste of karma.

  Kyle and I returned to our lunch, eating in silence. I wished I could look at it like Kyle did. But I knew better. I had seen the virtual footprint left behind. I could tell that Chuck’s disgrace wasn’t the bottom line.

  I knew there was another motive.

  I had to be vigilant. Careful about what I did at work, about emails I sent. Even if they were from my encrypted account. No more IRC on company time.

  I would watch the watcher and see what they were after.

  If it really was me, then I’d be ready.

  I put the remains of my lunch in my bag just as my phone dinged with an incoming message.

  “Someone’s popular today,” Kyle teased as I pulled my phone out of my pocket.

  “Every day, Kyle,” I joked back, glancing down at my screen.

  I can’t wait until the weekend. Can I see you tonight?

  My heart flipped over and tumbled dangerously.

  I smiled. I couldn’t help it.

  Biting on my lip, I quickly typed out a reply.

  Time and place?

  “Who was that?” Kyle tried to peer at my phone and I quickly shoved it back into my pocket before seeing Mason’s reply.

  “Jeesh, you’re being nosy today,” I said with a laugh, reining in my annoyance.

  “Is it a guy? Are you dating someone?” Kyle asked, turning back to his pudding. He wouldn’t quite look at me.

  We had entered awkward territory. Kyle and I weren’t traditional friends who talked about personal lives. His asking me such an invasive question was out of character and more than a little off-putting.

  I wanted to tell him to mind his own business. I didn’t want to share Mason. Not with anyone.

  He’s mine…

  “It’s cool if you are,” Kyle went on, scooping pudding up with his fingers and shoving it in his mouth. I felt ill watching him eat.

  “Why does it matter?” I asked, mildly annoyed. My phone dinged in my pocket, but as eager as I was to see Mason’s response, I didn’t look. Not with Kyle being a little too interested.

  Kyle wiped his hands on a napkin and balled it in his fist. “Because it’s nice to know things about your friends. We’re friends, right, Hannah?”

  “Sure we are,” I placated. “Yes. It’s a man I’m dating.” It felt weird to admit something personal to Kyle. But what could it hurt?

  “What’s he like?” Kyle asked, his voice off.

  I peered at the younger guy and wondered what was bothering him. Was he jealous? I had never gotten the impression that he liked me…but maybe I was wrong.

  “He’s an FBI agent, actually.” I grudgingly gave him some information. Why was I feeling so possessive?

  “An FBI agent, huh?” Kyle muttered. Was he pouting?

  “Yeah, pretty cool, right?”

  Kyle seemed to get over whatever was bugging him. He relaxed and grinned. “Yeah, that is pretty cool. Just don’t let slip about your awesome friend Kyle and his work high jinks.”

  I laughed, glad he was acting normal again. Kyle didn’t think of me like that. We were buddies. That was it.

  “I think Mason’s got bigger things to worry about than an IT dude who likes to mess with his coworkers’ email.”

  Kyle raised his eyebrows. “ ‘Mason,’ huh? That’s a very masculine name.”

  “About as masculine as ‘Kyle.’ ”

  Kyle puffed out his nonexistent chest. “That’s me, super macho.”

  I snorted and shook my head. “Okay, well, I better get back to work.”

  We both got to our feet and Kyle threw away his trash. “Don’t forget to keep me in the loop about our hacker friend,” he whispered as we made our way back into the building.

  “Just don’t go around talking about it. It’s on the hush-hush.” I gave him a pointed look.

  Kyle pretended to zip his lips and I wagged my finger at him in warning.

  I quickly pulled out my phone to see Mason’s message. It had been burning a hole in my pocket.

  My place. 8:00. We’ll order dinner. Then we can do it all over again this weekend.

  Everything was going perfectly.

  I was one step closer to being on the inside. To having the access I needed.

  I thought about the hacker who was now trying to hack me.

  About Charlotte.

  About what she would do without me, if it ever came to that.

  The thought made my blood run cold.

  I tapped out my response.

  Can’t wait. See you then.

  I needed to stay on top of this.

  There was too much at stake.

  The most important thing being my freedom.

  I returned to my desk after lunch, thinking about Mason. About how I was going to play this now that things were moving faster.

  I sat down in my chair, reached for my mouse, and—

  My hand hovered over an object that hadn’t been there when I had gone to lunch.

  I picked it up, holding it carefully in my palm.

  The small yellow smiley face pin was cool in my hand.

  I turned to Carl and held out the pin. “Is this yours?” I asked him. Carl, looking startled at my talking to him, glanced down at the yellow button and shook his head.

  “It’s not mine.” He sounded defensive. As if I was accusing him of something.

  “Okay, no biggie,” I said, turning away from him, a bit bewildered.

  I stared
down at the smiley face for a little longer, wondering about it.

  Then I shrugged and tossed it in the garbage.

  Chapter 13

  Hannah

  Why was picking out a suitable outfit so difficult? Maybe because my clothing choices were woefully insufficient.

  I grumbled as I pawed through boring shirts and even more boring skirts. Nothing was right.

  How did one dress when playing spy? Should I wear all black and a balaclava? I could tell Mason I was into role-playing.

  I rolled my eyes and kept searching through my dismal outfits.

  I was almost relieved when my phone rang. It gave me an excuse to stop obsessing about wardrobe options. But when I glanced at the screen I saw a number I didn’t recognize. I thought about ignoring it. I didn’t have time for phone calls. I had to get ready to go to Mason’s.

  But curiosity had me answering it.

  “Hello?”

  A pause.

  “Hi, Hannah.”

  My stomach fell and I dropped the shirt I had been holding onto the floor.

  “Why are you calling me?” I demanded, not taking time for pleasantries. I didn’t ask how she had gotten my number because Rose Norris could find anyone if she wanted to.

  “Wow, that was to the point, Han. No ‘Hey, how’s it going?’ Or ‘What have you been up to for the last decade?’ ” Rose asked blandly. Emotionless as always.

  “If you wanted to engage in small talk, you would have called a long-ass time ago. Clearly you want something. Or at least want to tell me something. So get on with it.” I abandoned the search for an outfit and went to the kitchen, reaching for the bottle of wine in the cupboard. I was going to need alcohol to talk to Rose. Otherwise I’d end up screaming.

  “We’ve never been good at small talk, have we?” she said, then laughed. It made me want to growl in frustration.

  “Rose, I’m busy. I have things to do. Tell me what you want to tell me or I’m going to hang up.” We were way past being nice to each other. There was too much history. Too much baggage. She wasn’t the sort of person you put on pretenses with. She’d rip through them each and every time.

  “Fine. If you’re going to be like that. There’s a lot of chatter about you lately. Lots of speculation. What’s going on?”