No Strings Attached: A Lexi Carmichael Mystery, Book Eight
By Julie Moffett
Oops, I did it again...
Leave it to me, Lexi Carmichael, to become a target for an elite organization of cyber criminals simply by being in the wrong place at the right time. As if I weren’t already freaking out about planning my best friend’s bachelorette party, I now have to keep my eyes peeled for people trying to kill me.
After accidentally intercepting a dangerous hack into the NSA and discovering the involvement of a foreign country in said hack, things begin to get seriously complicated. Diplomats, danger and spies, oh, my!
With Slash and my loyal friends by my side, I’m in a race against time to stop a team of sophisticated hackers on a deadly mission. My team of geeks is brilliant...but derailing an international plot for revenge will take everything we’ve got.
This book is approximately 86,000 words
Dear Reader,
There’s something magical about being the one to publish an author’s first book. It’s a wonderful feeling to experience the joy, the excitement and even the terror along with a debut author. Everything is new and wonderful, even while being new and sometimes scary as we work to release the book into the world. This month, I had the privilege of working with not one, but two debut authors, and I know you will love their books as much as I do, so please check them out!
The winner of Harlequin’s 2015 So You Think You Can Write Contest, chosen from thousands of submitted manuscripts, debuts this month with her fantasy romance, The Emperor’s Arrow. Lauren D.M. Smith delivered a kick-ass warrior and the emperor she’s honor bound to defend in this story of romance, adventure and intrigue that will have you wishing you could stay with the characters longer!
Also debuting this month is Jade Chandler. The subtitle of this fab romance might give you a hint of what you’re in store for, so hold on for the ride! His MC brothers call him Dare for a reason. He never backs down from a challenge. And Lila is going to be the sweetest challenge he’s ever conquered. Don’t miss Enough: A Dark, Erotic Motorcycle Club Romance.
Fans of Julie Moffett will be thrilled to know that not only does she have a new release out this month, but it is also available in print at select online retailers. Pick up a copy for your bookshelf today! Everyone’s favorite geek girl is back in No Strings Attached: A Lexi Carmichael Mystery, and this time Lexi and her hacker friends are taking on the Chinese in a dangerous game of revenge. Haven’t tried Lexi yet? You can start at the beginning with No One Lives Twice.
Readers praised Nico Rosso’s romantic suspense Countdown to Zero Hour, and One Minute to Midnight delivers the same action-packed thrill ride and swoon-worthy romance. Seasoned black ops soldiers Ben Jackson and Mary Kuri have never worked undercover together, but when their fake identities start flirting, a very real passion flares between them, and it seems like nothing can stop it—except maybe the dangerous gunrunners they’re investigating.
You fell in love with the hero of Julianna Keyes’s Time Served, and this month she’s back with a new hero who hits all the right buttons in The Good Fight. Former fighter Oz returns to his dying hometown where he falls for a stubborn, sexy doctor. He’s willing to jump back into the fight to gain her love, her trust and her forever.
Don’t forget, we have a full backlist of books across genres to keep your e-reader or reading app full. Make sure to check out our selections in paranormal romance, male/male romance and historical romance at www.carinapress.com!
Coming next month: Scott Hildreth makes his Carina Press debut with a bad-boy mafia romance, we launch a new paranormal romance series full of alpha heroes from Kerry Adrienne, and Anna del Mar is back with a sexy new romantic suspense.
As always, until next month, my fellow book lovers, here’s wishing you a wonderful month of books you love, remember and recommend.
Happy reading!
~Angela James
Editorial Director, Carina Press
Dedication
For my two boys, Alexander and Lucas.
Love you to the moon and beyond. oxo
Contents
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
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Acknowledgments
Also available from Julie Moffett
About the Author
Chapter One
“To the general public, the word hacker often conjures a vision of someone who breaks into your computer and steals your bank account information or locks your computer, holding it for ransom. Most of us are in agreement that this type of hacking is considered cracking, or black hatting. But what if we do these same things to someone on behalf of our client? Does that make us black hatters or white hatters?”
I paused, looking at the participants of my workshop Black Versus White Hatting: Ethics for the Security Professional. I was wrapping things up—thank God. I hated speaking in front of people. I’d agreed to do this presentation because I felt the topic was important. So, I—along with four hundred other geeks—had gathered for HACK CON, a popular hacker convention at the Capitol Heights Hotel near Washington, DC. We convened annually in one giant nerd herd to learn about the latest in security design, network penetration and hacking shortcuts, mostly from each other.
My interactive workshop had gone well except for the jerk who sat front and center, apparently feeling like it was his duty to prove I was some kind of fake geek girl. I’d done my best to ignore him, but I could see he was far from finished with me.
“Miss Carmichael,” he said with a heavy emphasis on the Miss. He paused for dramatic effect
. “I have an answer for you.”
Lexi Carmichael, that’s me. My job as Director of Information Security at X-Corp—a cutting-edge cyberintelligence business in Washington, DC—had gotten me a first-class ticket and an invitation to present at HACK CON. I’m a twenty-five-year-old reformed hacker, a fangirl and a dedicated gamer who also happened to work in a heavily male-dominated industry where—for some reason—I had to constantly prove I belonged because I didn’t have a Y chromosome.
I crossed my arms against my chest, leaning back against the table and hoping my tone sounded neutral instead of annoyed. “Okay, Mr. Corbin. What’s your answer?”
“My answer is if it’s in the best interest of our client, it’s ethical. We’re getting paid for it, right? May the best man win.”
“I see.” I pretended to think it over. “So, you’re saying it’s okay to break into another company’s system and screw it up or bring it down if it’s in the best interest of your client?”
Corbin smirked. “If they don’t have the balls or skills to keep us out—then they deserve what they get.”
“Really?” I said, trying not to sound exasperated, “Although I’ll be the first to admit there is no clear-cut answer to ethical behavior in our rapidly evolving field, I’m confident the ‘May the Best Man Win’ strategy would not be considered ethically sound.”
I’d pissed him off. His eyes narrowed and his face flushed red. He leaned forward in his chair, resting his arms on his knees. “What do you know anyway? Everyone in this room knows there is only one reason you are here.”
The room fell deadly silent. I kept my voice even. “And what would that be?”
“Quota.” He sat back in his chair, smug. “That’s why you’re here. I’m just keeping it real.”
My gaze locked on to his. “Okay, let’s keep it real. In the past year, I’ve had four different articles published in the Journal of Adversarial Infosec, Cryptologia and Red Teaming Today. Since the conference has strict guidelines that in order to be invited to speak all presenters must be extensively published in peer-reviewed journals on the topic, I guess I do meet a certain, rather exclusive, quota. But now that you’ve mentioned it, I don’t recall seeing your name on any articles on this topic. When were you last published?”
There were several snickers as Corbin fell silent, seething. I lifted my hands. “Anyway, in conclusion, I think the most important takeaway from this presentation is that as white hatters, we should consider the defensive route as the most ethical one. Protect and defend. Yet, having said that, I do acknowledge there may be situations where black hatting methods may be required, especially if in defense of critical infrastructure or lives. Regardless, be aware that the line between black and white in our profession is constantly shifting. Ethical standards need to be regularly revisited. Thank you for attending.”
The room erupted into clapping before people rose to leave. Corbin stalked out of the room without a backward glance. I chatted with a few of the participants before the last person left. Gathering my materials, I straightened up the room before tucking my laptop under my arm and heading for the elevator. I switched off the light as I left the conference room. The area in front of the elevators was empty, which probably meant I’d just missed one. I hoped I didn’t have to wait too long. In the past twenty-four hours the power to the hotel had gone off six times. Unsurprising, with several hundred hackers gathered in one hotel. While the little show of power was impressive, the consequence was a nasty backup of the elevators. That was a royal pain for all involved, myself included.
The button illuminated, so at least the elevators were working. However, seeing as how I was on the thirty-seventh floor, there’d be a wait for it to arrive.
I checked my watch. Two thirty. Maybe the hotel bar would be empty. I needed to sit somewhere quiet and plan the bachelorette party I was supposed to be throwing next week. I’d booked a place and sent out invitations, but there was no menu yet and Basia had been dropping hints that these parties usually included inappropriate games and alcoholic beverages named after body parts. I wasn’t fond of either, but she was my best friend and I was her maid of honor. This was the most important party of her life. If that meant researching cocktails and learning how to set up a dirty version of bingo, I was going to have to stop procrastinating and get to it.
When the elevator door opened, I stepped in and nodded at the young couple inside—a guy with a shock of blond hair and a young woman in shorts and braids. The lobby button had already been pushed, so I smiled at them.
The woman smiled back shyly. She wore a T-shirt that read We’re Not in Kansas Anymore. Both of them had shiny gold bands on their ring fingers.
The guy glanced at my laptop. “So, what’s going on at the hotel this weekend? There’s, like, a ton of people.”
As the doors closed, I leaned back against the elevator. “HACK CON.” The blank expression meant he clearly had no idea what I was talking about. “Computer stuff. Cybersecurity. Hacking.”
“Oh!” Understanding dawned. “Gosh, that’s pretty impressive. I know almost nothing about computers except how to type on one. I’m a vet. Well, a vet-in-training. I work with my dad. Sarah and I are here on our honeymoon from Kansas.”
I glanced at the woman’s T-shirt. “Oh, Kansas. Right. I get it. Congratulations.”
His grin widened. “We thought it would be cool to visit Washington, DC, and check out all the monuments and stuff. Our parents chipped in to help us stay here.”
Jeez. Two clueless kids on their honeymoon from Kansas in the same hotel at the same time as four hundred hackers. Who the heck in Kansas had thought that would be a good idea?
I braced a hand against the elevator wall. “Look, guys, listen to me very carefully, okay? You have cell phones?”
The guy’s smile faded and the girl shifted anxiously, pressing into her new husband’s side and clutching her small purse. Like maybe she thought I’d reach out and snatch it or something. But I didn’t need to touch her phone or her money in order to take either.
“Why do you want to know?” the guy said. Our moment of friendly interaction vanished and he looked at me suspiciously. “Sure, we have cell phones. Doesn’t everyone?”
“Possibly.” I tried to keep my tone light. “Take them out right now and turn off the Wi-Fi. It is critical you do not have them on for the entire duration of your stay in this hotel. When you get downtown, at least six blocks from this hotel, you can turn it back on. But while you are here, do not have the Wi-Fi on. And please do not, under any circumstances, use the free hotel Wi-Fi or access anything on your phone or computer that requires a password, even if you’re on your own network or hot spot. Also, don’t send any text messages from here that you wouldn’t mind other people reading or that contain passwords. Finally, do not—and I repeat—do not use the ATM in the hotel. Do it at a bank or elsewhere, okay?”
Their eyes were wide as the elevator dinged. I stepped off and gave them my friendliest smile. “Uh, have a great honeymoon.”
I crossed the ornate lobby, passed the fountain and headed toward the bar. I hadn’t meant to scare them...much. Probably 60 percent of the attendees were white hats—no malicious intent, but they might still invade people’s privacy with the hopes of scaring them into taking better security precautions. Regardless, it was still a 97 percent certainty those kids would be hacked before they left the hotel if they didn’t take precautions, and a 60 percent chance even if they did.
I strolled into the bar, then stopped. The place was freaking packed. Every table, every seat at the bar and every square foot of floor near an outlet had been taken. I wandered to the back of the bar near the bathrooms and, to my delight, spotted an empty table with two chairs. I made a beeline for it and then stopped when I saw the white Reserved sign on it.
“Crap.”
There was absolutely nowhere els
e to sit. I debated going back to my room, but I was hungry and thirsty. Hoping the people who had reserved it never showed up, I slid into the chair, looking around for a server. My plan was to sit and work while I got a bite to eat. If the people who reserved the table did show, I’d just get up and hope by then another table would have opened up.
I wound my brown hair into a ponytail, securing it with a scrunchie before opening up my laptop. Actually, it wasn’t my laptop. It was a company laptop with absolutely nothing of any interest or value on it. Even though I’d protected it six ways to Sunday, I had no illusions that it was safe—hence, no important data had been stored on it. To protect myself further, I wasn’t even carrying my actual phone, but a burner one. I knew better. Everything and everyone was game at this convention.
I’d just put on my computer glasses and started to type when a guy about my age slid onto the other chair. He wore a pair of dark sunglasses, jeans and a long-sleeved black T-shirt with white lettering that said Hack the Planet. He held a thick manila envelope in his hand.
“You’re early.” He set the envelope on the table and folded his hands on top of it.
I lowered my glasses to look at him, realizing he must be the person who’d reserved the table. “Oh, look, I’m sorry about—”
“No, no. It’s all good,” he said, cutting me off. He started to jiggle his foot wildly, shaking the table and my laptop. He had a wet sheen across his upper lip, which he wiped with the back of his hand. “Let’s just get this over with. I’m not good at this kind of thing.”
“What thing?” I said, starting to stand. Was this some kind of blind date setup? “Look, I think you’ve got this all wrong. I’m not—”
He grabbed my arm, yanking me back into the chair. “Sit down and zip it,” he hissed. “Don’t draw attention to us.”
His frown grew as he rested his arms on the table, staring at me. “I know this is totally nerve-racking. They didn’t give me much information either, which is the way it should be. I don’t want to know more.” He kept looking over his shoulder. His leg jiggled against the table so many times I had to put a hand on my laptop to keep it from getting bounced off.
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