“I was on the call, idiot,” Sean shot back. “Our contact didn’t show. He left me hanging, didn’t even bother to send a text,” Sean spun his phone across the table in Caesar’s direction. “If I had to guess, I’d say it has something to do with this.”
Caesar cupped his hands around the screen to reduce the glare and leaned in to check the phone. It was a video, playing with the volume down. “It’s Rancor,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “This is recent?”
“Just a few hours old,” Sean nodded. “You were sleeping, I figured you needed the rest. You’re going to want to watch it.”
The video was of Mason Mince—Rancor—looking out of place in a tight sweater vest and dress pants, sweating his way through an appearance on Good Morning America. Caesar clicked the volume up a few notches and moved his ear closer to the speaker.
“Good morning, Mr. Mince.”
“Good morning, Robin.”
Caesar scoffed. “Good morning, Robin—this guy is unbelievable.”
“So you’ve recently joined Senator Hancock’s advisory panel on cyber security.”
“I’m leading the panel, that’s correct, Robin.”
“What can you tell us about some of the newest developments on the team?”
“Great question. Obviously we’ve all been hearing about an increase in hacking activity in the past few weeks. My team, even with everything we’re now doing for the Hancock campaign, has offered our assistance to all government agencies in taking down these criminals.”
Sean shook his head. “This guy is such a tool.”
“But we believe that the current administration is focused in the wrong areas—small-time targets, the wrong priorities. I’m here today to announce an offensive against the target that we believe is the biggest current threat to our national security, and that’s Caesar Black.”
Caesar pushed himself back in his chair, as far from the phone as he could get, his eyes wide. Sean looked back out to the skyline as the video played on.
“Caesar Black, the hacker from the events in London?”
“I’m sorry, Robin, you mean the criminal who escaped with enough code to break into almost any system on the planet? Yes, that hacker, Robin. Caesar Black is a man with no respect for the law. When you combine that attitude with the power he holds in his hands, you get a digital powder keg ready to explode. The fact that the current administration has done nothing to stop him shows a severe lack of understanding for how to take on criminals in our modern times. Under my—and Senator Hancock’s—leadership, that’s all going to change, and we’re not going to sit around and wait for the election to begin leading.”
“This is bad, man,” Sean said, his head in his hands. “I’m all for keeping a positive attitude, but at this point, it’s only a matter of time. They’re not waiting for the election—they’re coming after us now.”
“Me,” Caesar said, pushing the phone back across the table. “They’re coming after me.”
Sean’s turned to look out at the horizon, flipping his sunglasses on. “You, us, whatever.” He sat for a few moments, letting the video play through to the end and clicking it silent. “What do you want to do?”
“We keep going,” Caesar said. “This doesn’t change anything. It’s all just talk. We focus our energy on Eagle, making sure the election plan is perfect, making sure everything is ready to roll. No mistakes. We take Hancock—and Rancor—out of the equation.”
“We have what we need to disappear,” Sean said. “We have money. We have our freedom—for now. There’s no shame in just pulling the ripcord, laying low for a few months.”
Shaking his head, Caesar grabbed a piece of bread from the table, chewing at the corner. “Trying to disappear right now is more dangerous than it sounds. I mean, where the hell is Char? What did they do with her? For all we know, Margo and Phillip are in a jail cell somewhere, too. Besides, if we stop now, Hancock is going to win. He’s ahead in the polls with not much time left. If you think our lives suck now, just wait until he has real resources behind him.”
“So what, we just keep doing this?” Sean asked, waving his arms around at the skyline. “A new city every other day?”
“We stay put,” Caesar said. “Rancor is coming after us? I say let him come.”
“We don’t know what type of systems he has access to,” Sean said. “He could be dialed in across the board—NSA, FBI, CIA. If Hancock has friends over there—and you don’t get to be a senator without friends—they could be plugged in already.”
“If we run, they win,” Caesar said. “We crawl into the shadows, they win.”
“Rancor is no joke, man,” Sean said. “This hasn’t been real before today—it’s all been just talk. But this guy,” Sean jabbed his finger at the phone screen, “Mason Mince—he knows what the hell he’s doing. He’s not playing around. He wants a trophy to hang on his wall. He wants your head.”
“Why are we doing this in the first place?” Caesar asked, pounding his fists on the table, shaking the silverware. “Why did we run after seeing what we saw in London? I don’t know about you, but I did it because I could see the writing on the wall. I could see that the world needed people like you and me, somebody on their side. When you give bad people power, they don’t get better. They get worse. They get a lot worse. That’s what happened in London, and that’s what is happening now. You think Hancock with power—real power—is going to let up after getting elected? Not a chance. And we’re the only ones who can stop him.”
“It’s too much,” Sean whispered, his voice beginning to break and his head hung low. “It’s getting too real.”
“We can choose to do the right thing, or the easy thing. Rancor’s good, but he’s not as good as us. Especially you, with the big IQ you won’t shut up about.”
Sean let out a nervous laugh, took a sip of water. He picked the menu up, flipping it end over end, shaking his head. “I am smarter than you. My parents got me tested when I was a kid, I have the paperwork and everything.” He took a breath and looked back at Caesar. “So, what now?”
“Full steam ahead,” Caesar said. “Ignore Rancor. He’s mounting a huge offensive? Good for him. We stay smart, we stay invisible.”
The waitress approached and the two men hushed. She placed Sean’s order on the table with all the emotion of a robot, looking them both in the eye with a fixed jaw. Sean flashed a smile as she turned away without acknowledging his existence.
“I hate Germany,” he said.
Caesar laughed. “Sorry, man, but I don’t think Germany likes you much, either.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
NSA Texas Cryptologic Center
San Antonio, TX
October 31st, 11:15AM
Balancing on her tiptoes, Haylie let the door fall closed behind her, her palm pressed flush against the steel to hush its click. She did her best to push the mass of twisting, spiraling thoughts from her head—Caesar, Vector, and the impossible road in front of them—and focus her energy on the next few minutes.
She manufactured a smile as she raised her eyes to meet Mary’s. Mary sat as she always did in this room, with her hands bound in handcuffs, her faded jumpsuit highlighting the white streaks in her white hair. But today she looked different—a welcoming smile greeted Haylie, a warmth Mary hadn’t shown since the day they’d met.
“Still have you in the cuffs, huh?” Haylie said, pacing over towards the table. “I figured they’d let you out of those by now, with you playing nice and everything.”
“They take them off so I can type,” Mary said. “But not back here in the cells. It’s enough for me, if I’m being honest.”
Haylie nodded. She tried to think of any other small talk—the weather, the news—but her mind was a blank.
“How have you been, dear?” Mary asked. “You seem tired. Are you getting enough rest? I worry about you sometimes.”
“Sure,” Haylie said, tugging at a sleeve of her fraying college sweatshirt. “Chicago was cr
azy, so, you know, that’s going to spin anybody’s head a little bit.”
“Of course,” Mary said. “I miss it up there—I miss my home. Great things always tend to happen in Chicago, I’m not sure why, but sometimes the universe just makes a decision and that’s the way it is. I wish I could have been there with you.”
This is good—let her keep talking. You can get through this.
“I have to say,” Mary continued, “that idea you had for the background pattern matching on the sound spectrum, that was wonderful. Just genius. I’ve been out of the game for a bit, but I can’t say that I ever would have thought of that, even in my prime. I love watching how your brain works.”
“It was nice—to be out. It was actually kind of fun, you know?”
“I can imagine,” Mary said. “I was having a blast here, playing off your ideas. The back and forth. I’ll tell you something, dear, I don’t like a lot of people, but I feel like we’ve got something here.”
“Me, too,” Haylie said, pushing her guilt down inside. “This has been great—working together. It really has.”
“And I’d say we’re not quite done, either. We could be a team—you and I. The agents seem pretty impressed with your work, you seem to be making quite a name for yourself around here.”
“We got the guy,” Haylie said. “That’s what matters. It feels good, you know? But I’m not sure if—”
“Honey,” Mary began to whisper, her eyes flicking over to the door. “Before we talk shop, let’s talk about what’s really important today. Are you up for that?”
Haylie’s heart skipped a beat. “What … what do you mean?”
Mary smiled. “We’re friends now, you and me. Aren’t we? Friends can talk about the important things in their lives, isn’t that right?”
Haylie gulped, her body petrified. She blinked her eyes in rapid succession, wringing her fingers together, dreading Mary’s next words.
She knows. Of course she knows. What are you going to—
“It’s your birthday!” Mary cheered, clapping her hands together as much as her restraints would allow. “And believe you me, if I could have gone out and bought you a cake, I would have been the first in line at the bakery. I would have bought you the most beautiful cake I could have found.”
“I appreciate that,” Haylie said, drawing a long breath. “I got a cake—someone already took care of that.”
“Oh, good,” Mary said. “I was worried. You know, you can be kind of prickly sometimes, I wasn’t really sure if you had many friends.”
What did she just—
“Anyway,” Mary continued. “You’re eighteen now, isn’t that right? Such a wonderful age, such a wonderful time.”
“How did you know?” Haylie asked.
“Agent Wilcox—she’s quite a piece of work, but deep down inside I think she has a soft spot for you. I think you’re changing the minds of a lot of people around here.”
Haylie nodded, her eyes searching for a clock on the wall that wasn’t there.
How long has it been? Stay calm. You’re doing fine.
“That’s nice of you to say,” Haylie managed to work out. “And thank you. You’re the first person who actually said happy birthday today. It’s nice to hear.”
“Did you blow out your candles?” Mary asked. “Make a wish.”
Not exactly.
“I think we’ll get to that tonight,” Haylie said. “It’s been a busy week, you know? Lots of back and forth.”
Clapping again, Mary let out a little squeal, leaning in across the table. “Yes, yes, of course it has. Anyway, have a good time tonight. Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful.”
“Let’s talk about Chicago,” Haylie said. “My meeting with the Endling. The agent said we don’t have a lot of time today, and I want to make sure I can get back to school in time for my birthday stuff.”
“Yes, dear,” Mary said. “Let’s talk, I want to hear all about it.”
“I don’t know, it was kind of a bust,” Haylie said. “He didn’t say much—didn’t like me very much, honestly. He wanted a deal and that’s about it. No clues, nothing we didn’t already know.”
“That’s to be expected,” Mary said. She slowly pulled her long, gray hair back behind each ear, one side at a time. “But tell me—what did you feel coming out of the room?”
“Like I just said, he didn’t tell me—”
“No, dear,” Mary’s face grew solemn. “What did you feel?”
“I don’t … I don’t know. He didn’t say anything.”
“Don’t worry about the words,” Mary continued. “We all use words every day and they mean nothing. Nothing. Words get in the way of the real truth. Words are our shackles, pinning us down. Don’t worry about what he said and didn’t say, tell me what makes him tick. What did you walk away feeling that you didn’t feel before?”
Haylie’s closed her eyes, trying to play back the meeting in her head. The flow of the words, the air in the room. How did she feel? She hadn’t bothered to ask herself.
“It was like he was living in a different world,” Haylie said. “If he’s an outcast, I can see why. He’s playing a part that doesn’t fit a mold.”
“I’d guess he stayed cold,” Mary said. “Tried to manipulate you? But not through charm or compliments. No remorse, no empathy. Like ice.”
“How…” Haylie looked back at Mary with a curious eye. “How did you know?”
“His hacking patterns,” Mary said. “No social agenda, doesn’t want fortune. He wants fame—not because he earned it, but because he thinks he should already have it. Probably a sociopath,” Mary said, nodding. “But then, I’ve known lots of lovely sociopaths. Lots of hackers fit that pattern, or at least, did back in the day.”
Haylie thought for a moment. “So does that mean that I’m—”
“No, Crash,” Mary said, laughing. “Don’t worry. You’re just fine. And even if you weren’t, I wouldn’t break that news to you on your birthday.”
Haylie laughed out loud, surprising herself, cupping her hands over her mouth to cover the outburst.
“Oh my goodness,” Mary giggled, wiping tears from her eyes as the chains on her wrists jingled with each swipe. “So tell me—honestly. Is this our guy?”
Haylie’s laughter came to an abrupt stop. She caught her breath, remembering why she was there, reminding herself to not get too comfortable. “I don’t get the feeling that he’s working with anyone else. I think we were wrong—about the other hacker—I just didn’t see it.”
Mary leaned forward, tilting her head and staring directly into Haylie eyes. She didn’t blink, she didn’t breathe. She just watched.
“What are you afraid to tell me, dear?” Mary whispered. “What’s going on inside that wonderful head of yours?”
Her pulse pounding, Haylie shook her head, her eyes drifting to each corner of the room … anywhere but back to Mary.
“I just want this to be over,” Haylie said. “I want to get back to my life. That’s all I want. You asked me how I feel, and this is how I—”
“Get back to your life?” Mary asked. “You mean get back online, don’t you dear? That’s what you want. That weight you’re feeling: it’s not a weight of loss, it’s the weight of a woman who is forced to sit down with herself every day. No distractions. No place left to hide.”
“That’s not fair,” Haylie said. “You don’t know that.”
Mary chuckled. “I know what I know. You’re just like I was. Every day, breaking into things or sneaking around walls. Always about the adventure and what’s on the other side. My sentence—all this nonsense—took that away.”
Haylie sat back as Mary continued.
“Until I came in here,” Mary said, “I never had time to figure out who I really was. But now, now I have all the time in the world. At first I was terrified, my mind turned into a prison itself. But I grew to love the silence, and now I crave it. It’s such a rare thing in this world of ours—to be alone. It took me ye
ars to realize that I was lucky. And just because I was alone, that didn’t mean I didn’t have a voice—oh no, quite the opposite. I still had my voice, even if no one was listening. Your voice is the most powerful weapon you have.”
Haylie felt herself drifting away into Mary’s words and quickly snapped herself back. Get out of the room. You need to get back to Vector. You need to find your brother.
“I knew they were on to me, you know?” Mary said. “The police—I knew it was coming, so I took one last trip. Just in case I wasn’t good enough—just in case I wasn’t smart enough to get away. I jumped on a train and away I went. Do you know where I went?”
Haylie shook her head no.
“To the Met Museum. New York City. Have you been? It’s glorious. My mother always told me about it, and my goodness was she right. I could have spent weeks there—art and history and things you never thought of. Just a thin piece of glass between you and history. But there was one piece—one magical piece—that I had to see before I went away. One my mother had always talked about. Something by Rodin.”
Haylie watched as Mary looked past her, to the wall in the back of the room, her eyes misting over.
“It was a fallen caryatid. Now normally, a sculpture like this—a woman holding a block firmly over her head—they were used as columns and supports for buildings, temples, that sort of thing. Like women back in that time, they were ornaments. Decoration. But Rodin saw something others didn’t—he saw a force pushing down from above, a force that no one person—man or woman—could possibly take. It’s the force I’ve felt, and the one you feel now. So he carved his statue not standing firm and proud, but crumpled down. Struggling to hold the world above her, eyes falling to the floor in anguish. Eyes that had given up. A woman who had given up.”
Haylie felt chills run up her arms, through her spine.
You have to tell her. She deserves to know.
“That was me, back then,” Mary said. She took a long breath and smiled to herself, rubbing the rings around her wrists as she turned her arms at the elbows. “And now that’s you, Crash. Embrace the gift, the time to look inside and see who you really are.” She chuckled up to the security camera, perched in the corner and angled directly at the table. She hushed her voice. “I have a feeling you won’t have much more time.”
Crash Into Pieces (The Haylie Black Series Book 2) Page 17