Breaking the Honor Code

by Stanalei Fletcher

  A MAC address would identify the unique network node. Similarly, the IP address would identify where the user signed up for Internet access. Because her program could capture this information, the FBI would be able to obtain the necessary warrants to acquire both the manufacturer and Internet provider records. Those records would supply serial numbers with corresponding buyers and user billing addresses.

  She glanced at Sloan as he negotiated a turn. His face was a mask, showing no frustration as Mitchell asked the inevitable question. “Are we there yet?”

  “We have about another hundred miles to go.” Sloan gave her nephew a patient smile. “The roads look clearer now that we’re out of the mountains, so we can put on some speed.”

  “Cool!” Mitchell settled back in his seat.

  Allison’s mind returned to the process that would catch the hacker.

  Matching a serial number to a buyer or an IP address with a user location wasn’t as high-tech as trying to re-ping or scramble real time traces, but the results were solid. Vetting the list for a potential criminal element would be harder. It made sense that Sloan had been assigned to the task force. Not only did he have skills to review an individual’s background for criminal tendencies, his profiling skills would help to identify anyone who held a grudge against Byron O’Neal and Northstar.

  Allison would have liked to design an algorithm to narrow the records search. Unfortunately, only the FBI had the authority to request private records. Without the algorithm, the FBI would have to vet the list manually. Tom was smart enough to create an algorithm, even though it might take him longer than Allison, but the result would be the same.

  That was the part that bothered her the most. With Tom in L.A., the task force didn’t really need her. So why had Sloan used Mitchell to coerce her? And since she was asking questions, why had she given in so easily? She had more backbone than to let anyone railroad her.

  She clenched her fists, uncomfortable with the truth. She wanted to catch the hacker. It was her fault he’d been able to invade Northstar’s systems. Her fault people were getting hurt. She wanted to clean up her mess and catch the bastard.

  If she hadn’t been on vacation—if she’d been in the office—this would have been less complicated. Mitchell would be in school, she’d be behind her desk and Sloan would be someplace—anyplace—away from her ordered life.

  Damn him. And damn his appearance at her door.

  Last night, she’d admitted she’d been wrong about him. She hadn’t lied. Her perception of him had changed almost from the moment he stepped into the garage. Her commitment to stay detached unraveled with his every look—every thoughtful gesture. Every touch.

  He hadn’t behaved as though he was better than her and Mitchell. He’d accepted their modest home as a gracious guest and shared much of himself in return.

  Allison even opened up to him. Practically threw herself at him. She mentally cringed. Another stupid mistake. Although, at the time, Sloan hadn’t seemed to mind.

  Her body tingled as she relived his kisses. What if the power had stayed off? Would he have rejected her? Or would they have continued toward the only logical conclusion of their actions? She discreetly shifted to ease the arousal brought on by invading memories.

  Somehow, during that hot kiss, she’d screwed up—revealed her inexperience. Sloan demanded perfection. Allison did, too. But in personal relationships, her version of perfection and Sloan’s were clearly worlds apart. Once the electricity had returned, the intimate shadows of snowstorms and firelight had vanished. Sloan must have realized how different they really were.

  All she could do now was shield her feelings. Even if she compartmentalized the last forty-eight hours, it was possible her days with Northstar were over. Working closely with Sloan would be painful—she had shared too much of herself. Gossip of his next conquest would eat at her like a virus through data.

  Her only option was to withdraw. Rebuild her walls. Never let Sloan Cartland in again. She’d gotten good at that over the last two years. The thought lay like a lead weight at the bottom of her heart.

  When they finally arrived at Boise International, Allison was as exhausted mentally as she was physically.

  Sloan returned the rented SUV and then purchased tickets for Allison and Mitchell. They settled in for the two-hour wait. It was a good thing the flight was only an hour and a half—less time to berate herself for all the mistakes she’d made in the last few days.

  ****

  The flight touched down at L.A. International around four in the afternoon. Allison was physically tired and emotionally annoyed with Sloan. It felt better to be upset with him than with herself. Now that they’d arrived in Los Angeles, she was anxious to put her work into action. If she played her cards right, the FBI might let her create the new algorithm. That would keep her busy. Staying busy was her first step on the road to forgetting Sloan.

  Nelson Kane, a local FBI agent, met them at the airport and drove Allison, Sloan, and Mitchell to the location where the task force had set up the network. Instead of using one of the FBI field offices, Allison was surprised when the large FBI vehicle pulled into the driveway of a modest house in a quiet neighborhood near the downtown area.

  “What is this place?” She looked at the unassuming house, wondering if they were expected to live here and commute to the FBI’s office.

  “We use this as a safe house.” Agent Kane glanced over his shoulder at her. “From this location, we can hit a number of major streets when it’s time to roll. A unique and extremely powerful system is inside, connected directly to FBI headquarters. Your friend, Tom Delano, seemed impressed.”

  Allison, Mitchell, and Sloan followed Special Agent Kane into the house.

  Contrary to the exterior, the main room inside was not modestly suburban at all. It had the feel and even the scent that belonged more to FBI offices than a home. Two network racks lined one wall of the living room, both filled to near capacity with server blades and routers. A grouping of flat-screen monitors sat on a long table. Next to the monitors were two laser printers. This setup was equal to—if not better than—the technology she used at Northstar.

  Through a doorway, she saw a kitchen area. A hallway from the living room appeared to lead toward other areas of the house. “This is amazing.” She took a moment to mentally catalog the hardware.

  Tom sat at the table in front of several monitors that displayed programs running on the network. He turned as she spoke.

  Seeing a familiar face offered some comfort and normalcy, especially after several hours wrestling with her feelings for Sloan. “Hi Tom.” She gave him a little wave.

  “Hello Allison.” Tom’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  She had an uneasy feeling he wasn’t happy to see her. That didn’t make sense. She and Tom got along fine in the office. Perhaps he was looking forward to catching the hacker himself and here she was to take away his moment of glory. Tom sometimes had bouts of ego, but she was confident she could put to rest any of his concerns. After all, they were a team.

  Agent Kane introduced her to FBI Special Agent Kyle Roberts, another member of the task force. She nodded a hello and turned to Tom. “Have you loaded the program, yet?” She walked over to the desk and sat on the chair next to him. Mitchell followed and stood to the side of the desk next to Allison.

  “It’s loaded and awaiting your very special touch.” Tom’s tone had a sarcastic bite.

  Ouch. What was the matter with him? He seemed very unhappy about something.

  Sloan walked up to the two of them. “Why don’t you let Allison take it from here, Tom?”

  “Sure. Why not?” Tom slid his chair away from the table and stood, then positioned himself over her shoulder.

  Allison ignored Tom’s sullen mood. Once the work started, he’d join right in. He always did. She glanced at the screen and noticed Tom had already started her program. The time stamp showed it had been running for most of the day. By now, there should be some re
sults.

  The other monitor displayed two columns of data. The first column was a list of MAC addresses and the second column listed corresponding manufactures for the hardware.

  She pointed to the column of manufacturers. “Have you run this list for purchasers yet?”

  “We’re on it now,” said Agent Roberts.

  She studied the information on the screen wondering if she’d missed something. It was all here, in plain sight. The only thing left was the legwork to run down the names of individuals who had bought the hardware. The task force had everything they needed.

  And they didn’t need her.

  Allison faced the agents, then looked at Sloan. “I’m not sure what you want me to do. You already have the lists.”

  Everyone’s gazes were on her. They looked as if they expected her to produce the hacker from thin air. She spoke to the group. “I suppose I could build another program to help narrow down the list. We haven’t discussed it yet, but it might save some time.”

  All heads turned in Sloan’s direction as if he was the final authority. He took in the room, and ran a finger around his collar. His gaze shifted back to Allison. “No. We don’t need another program.”

  “Then what do you need?”

  He stepped toward her, but didn’t answer her question.

  “I don’t understand…” Her voice trailed off at his hard look.

  “We need you to identify the buyer.”

  “Excuse me?” Allison frowned. What was he talking about?

  “The buyer, Allison.” Sloan indicated the screen behind her. “Look at the list. Who purchased the computer hardware that hacked Northstar?”

  He took another step, stood close enough to touch her, but for all the warmth he showed, he might as well have been across the state. “Who is it?” he asked again. “What does he want with Northstar?”

  She stared at him. Sloan didn’t look like he’d lost his mind, so he must be joking. But his stare bored into her, searching, studying—deadly serious.

  She leaned back in the chair, trying to comprehend what he was asking. How was she supposed to know who the hacker was? The FBI had the names of the manufacturers. They were supposed to narrow the list. The very same list on the screen. Why not take the next logical step? What did he think she knew?

  “Sloan, I…” As she spoke, the look on his face turned to granite, scaring her. She had felt many things for Sloan Cartland over the last forty-eight hours, but was never frightened of him. Until now.

  She looked over at Tom, her friend and coworker. “Tom, what’s going on? You know I can’t just pick a name off this list. I could create another program—”

  “How could you do it, Allison?” Tom interrupted.

  “Do what?” She felt like screaming. “Will somebody tell me what’s going on?”

  “Your footprint is all over the hack. Did you think we wouldn’t see it?” Cold accusation dripped from Tom’s voice.

  “My footprint?” Allison was stunned.

  She’d been digging through the data for weeks. The only footprint she’d seen was the hacker’s. Yet, by Tom’s expression, he believed the footprint was hers. She looked at the others. They all believed it.

  She thought about the data she’d worked on for months, and again the previous evening. Did the annotations the hacker used look like hers? She never thought about it before now. Maybe it resembled her footprint a little. In her mind, they were totally different. As different as she and Caroline—but to an outsider, sisters could look very much like one another.

  Chills coursed down Allison’s spine as she realized what was happening. They all thought she was the hacker!

  Chapter Thirteen

  Drew pulled the vibrating phone off his belt, and glanced at the caller ID. “Do you have the package?”

  “No,” the caller replied.

  “Why not?” Drew scowled. “What happened?”

  “She wasn’t alone. She had a kid with her. And some FBI agent was waiting for them. We couldn’t make the grab at the airport. We followed them to a house near downtown, but she’s surrounded by feds.”

  “A kid, and the feds?” Drew almost shouted in the phone. That threw a wrench in the works. He didn’t want children involved in his plans. “Hold on.” He rolled his chair over to the other table and jiggled his mouse. The screensaver vanished and the Northstar logo appeared. He typed in a command to display an e-mail program on the screen. “Sh—” he bit off the expletive and glanced behind him. Mother sat in the corner, knitting.

  He turned back to his computer and scrolled through the new e-mails, reading the contents quickly. It was right there in front of him—and he’d missed it. O’Neal had sent an agent to collect her and she was bringing her nephew.

  If he didn’t get her away from the feds, they were going to arrest her. He wanted her to take the blame for his hacks, but not yet. He still needed her for one more task. He didn’t like it, but maybe he could use the kid as leverage.

  He spoke into the phone. “We’ll adjust our plans. I’m working on something now. Hang back. Watch for the next opportunity. And when the time comes, bring the kid, too.” He waited for confirmation, then ended the call.

  ****

  The FBI’s safe house lost all its warmth. Allison’s insides turned as cold as the blizzard they’d left in the mountains of Idaho. She felt the blood drain from her face and wrapped her arms around her middle in an automatic gesture of protection. Damn them. Damn Sloan.

  Mitchell pushed closer to her side. “Aunt Allison, are you all right?”

  Allison reached an arm around his slender body and pulled him close. “I’m fine.” She lied, hating that she was forced to say it to protect her nephew.

  She quashed a hysterical bubble of laughter. Sloan had been lying from the beginning, doing his job. She was the job.

  How dare Sloan bring Mitchell into this! He’d exposed her nephew—a child—to their suspicions! Allison took a breath. She couldn’t let Mitchell know they were accusing her of being a traitor. She had to shield him at all costs.

  “We’re just trying to sort everything out.” Allison hoped her tone would ease her nephew’s worried look. “Perhaps one of these agents could get you something to eat. You can use another room to relax and play your game.”

  Mitchell eyed the men around the table, then folded his arms across his chest. With a single step, he moved his defensive stance in front of Allison. “I’m not leaving until I hear Sloan say everything is all right.”

  Sloan’s face softened as he looked at Mitchell.

  She would have given her right arm to have that gentle look directed her way. But there would be no softness—no sympathy—for her.

  “It’s okay, Mitch. No one’s going to hurt your aunt. You have my word.”

  The deep timbre of Sloan’s voice sounded reassuring, even to her. She wished she could believe him. Then she realized he avoided the outright lie by offering physical safety, but nothing more.

  “Go on,” she said to Mitchell. “I’ll come and get you when I’m finished here.” She squeezed his shoulders and urged him away from her.

  Mitchell hesitated. He looked at her and then back at Sloan. “You promise?”

  Sloan nodded. She wanted to scream, to call him a liar to his face, but held her tongue. Agent Kane stepped forward and touched Mitchell’s arm. Her nephew followed the agent out of the living room. They turned a corner to the hallway. She couldn’t see which room they went into, but heard a door close. At least Mitchell would be out of earshot for whatever happened next.

  She closed her eyes and took another deep breath. When she opened them, she faced her accusers alone. “Does Byron O’Neal know that you think I’m the hacker?”

  Sloan’s jaw tightened. A muscle twitched in his cheek.

  She’d spoken the accusation aloud. She wasn’t a dummy—didn’t he realize she’d guess what they were alleging?

  “We’re doing this on his authority,” Sloan finally answ
ered.

  She let her chin drop. The breath she held whooshed out as though she’d been punched in the stomach. “He thinks I’m capable of betraying him as well,” she whispered to herself.

  Tom pushed Sloan aside with an agitated flurry. He stood in front of Allison, glaring down at her. “Why, Allison? Why did you do it? We’ve worked side by side for months!” His voice broke as though he couldn’t believe her betrayal.

  Tom wasn’t asking if she’d done it. She didn’t understand how her lab-mate believed she was capable of such a crime. He’d worked as many hours as she had on this case. For weeks, he’d seen the data, her work…

  It was Tom who had convinced O’Neal and Sloan that she was the hacker! No one else could have recognized the similarities in the code.

  Stricken by the surety in Tom’s voice, she rebelled.

  Why should she defend herself? Why should she offer explanations he clearly wouldn’t believe? He thought she was capable of betraying Northstar even after they had worked in the same lab together for almost a year.

  She looked at Sloan. How long had he known? His face showed no reaction to her plight. Nothing. He didn’t see the pain and hurt his accusation caused. How could he erase all they had shared? She hadn’t realized just how good he was at his job. Until now.

  A cold rage settled around her heart at the loss of trust from her employer, her friend…and from Sloan.

  Well, she was good at her job, too. She would prove her innocence, but only to the authorities. Her allegiance to Northstar was damaged—possibly beyond repair.

  Allison lifted her chin, straightened in the chair, and answered Tom. “Asking why won’t give you what you want, Tom. You’re too eager to believe I’ve betrayed you.” She shifted to Sloan and stared into his dark eyes. “Believe me when I tell you, there is never any justification for betrayal.”

  Sloan blinked. A shadow crossed his face, but he didn’t speak.

  “I’m not the hacker.” Her voice was strong and her words hard in the cold silence.

  Tom started to protest, but she interrupted him. “I’ll find the real hacker for you. I’ll prove my innocence. Then Mitchell and I are going home.”