>>>>>
NSA Field Office
NYC
December 21st, 3:35PM
“Still getting used to the new office?” Haylie asked, pushing aside a pile of folders to find a place to take a seat.
“Well, Ms. Black, it seems that you just went and read my mind,” Agent Wilcox said, scurrying to help Haylie. “I’ve never been one for fancy offices and the like, but if it comes with a bigger role in the NSA, then I’m all for it.”
Agent Wilcox pulled her chair closer to her desk, avoiding the boxes of files and personal items littered across the floor. The walls were mostly bare, broken up with a few empty hooks from the last occupant. The only decoration of any kind was the government-mandated, framed photo of President Mitchell looking down on both of them with a confident smile, soon to be replaced with one of President Hancock. Haylie had seen those pictures everywhere here at the NSA over the past day or so and had quickly learned that the higher ranking officials even had matching sets of the vice president and the director of the NSA, just in case they happened to stop by.
Seeing Hancock’s picture—which was everywhere these days—still stung Haylie each time. Not just the terrible memories of the election week, but questions about what kind of president he would become: questions about his position on the hacking community, and what it all meant for her future.
“You’ll be up here for the holidays? Is that right?” Agent Wilcox asked.
“I think I’ll stay up here in New York for a bit,” Haylie said, choosing her words carefully. “Not a great atmosphere at home right now, you know?”
Since the election, her parents had been having one continuous heart attack—freaking out about Haylie’s whereabouts constantly and consulting as many lawyers as they could about Caesar’s future. Her mom was calling or texting every other hour, sometimes even in the middle of the night. It was almost enough to make Haylie wish she didn’t have a phone again. Almost.
“I understand,” Agent Wilcox said. “Events like these can take a toll on a family. You’ve had a tough year, Ms. Black; please do send them my best.”
“No offense,” Haylie said, “but if I were you, I wouldn’t send them any Christmas cards this year.”
“Understood.” Agent Wilcox nodded, patting the folder on the desk.
“What’s in the folder?” Haylie asked.
“Yes, well, it seems that we’ve got a new project. Something the director has tasked me with.”
“The director?” Haylie said, keeping her poker face firm. “Good for you.”
“Things would appear to be headed up,” Agent Wilcox said. “It’s not easy to get promoted out of cycle in our organization, but every once in a while … extreme measures … will get it done.”
“Breaking a few rules didn’t seem to hurt, either.”
“I’ll … Well, I’ll just have to throw my hands up and agree with you right there, Ms. Black. But to the point, what I’m looking at here is a new task force. Something that can operate in a different way than we’re used to around here.”
“A different way?”
“Just between you and me, this whole election scare jolted a good amount of something through the ranks here at the NSA—seems we’ve woken a few people up. We were one teenage fugitive away from the wrong president, and that doesn’t make our director sleep tight in his bed at night. Our superiors are aware that not only does electronic warfare need to become more of a priority for our team, but we’re going to need to be better equipped to deal with any sumbitches who mess with us going forward.”
“You’re starting to sound like Hancock,” Haylie said with a shake of her head.
“President-Elect Hancock is in full support of this initiative,” Agent Wilcox said. “Based on my counsel, the NSA has approved a task force to help us combat digital threats as we see fit. But no suits, no offices. Fewer—”
“Rules?” Haylie asked.
“Well, now, it sounds like you’re getting the hang of it.”
“Good luck with that,” Haylie said. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“I don’t need you to see it, Ms. Black. But I would like to ask you to lead it.” Agent Wilcox pushed the folder across the desk, spinning it in Haylie’s direction. “It’s all in there.”
“So now I’m supposed to just trust you?”
“Well, no, not just like that,” Agent Wilcox said. “Trust has to be earned. But I think we’ve taken a few steps closer to where we need to be in that department, and I hope after thinking it over that you agree.”
“You realize I’m a convicted felon?” Haylie asked. “This seems like a terrible idea.”
“Well, where I’m from, Ms. Black,” Agent Wilcox said, “we believe it’s best to keep idle hands busy—devil’s workshop and all that. Now that you’re back online, I’d say the NSA has a vested interest in directing your energy in a positive manner, if you’ll catch my meaning.”
Haylie stared down at the folder without a sound.
“Ms. Black, you’d have the best tech on the planet at your fingertips. You’ll be hand-picking your own team, and you’d lead them to go after our highest value targets. You’d be helping the government do some good, and give us a chance to stop the people out there that want to do harm to United States citizens. And trust me when I say that those people are everywhere. Job security, as you once put it.”
Haylie cracked the folder open and began to read.
“And if you say yes,” Agent Wilcox said, “We may even agree to leave ‘Cyber’ out of the name.”
Haylie cracked a smile.
>>>>>
Rockefeller Center, NYC
Haylie pulled her coat lapels in closer towards her chest, her glasses beginning to fog. The cold felt good—like it was sucking out eighteen years of heat and steam from the Texas summers that she had stored up somewhere, bringing her temperature somewhere back near normal.
She waited for the traffic to slosh by and jumped through the crosswalk, dodging a cab to make it across the street to Rockefeller Center. She pulled her phone from her pocket and checked her texts—one more from Mom, but none from Vector. The big idiot.
“Allo, allo, allo.”
She turned to see him standing on the sidewalk, framed by a streetlight from behind, a bright-white halo around his silhouette and hands stuffed into the pockets of his mid-length wool coat.
“How did everything go up there?” Vector asked. “Wilcox hasn’t changed her mind about you, has she?” He reached down to pull up her pant leg. “Can’t do with another ankle bracelet, I’ll tell you. I’ll go mad.”
“You?” Haylie laughed. “This isn’t about you. The meeting was fine.”
“Ah, I see. It was fine. The ever-mysterious fine,” Vector said. “Very good, then, Crash.”
Vector took Haylie’s hand as they made their way into the madness that is Christmas at Rockefeller Center. They weaved their way through the crowds—locals and tourists and families with selfie sticks almost poking their eyes out—and to the edge of the railing, looming over the light of the ice skating rink below. The skaters carved slow arcs across the ice, some holding hands, others teetering on the side of the rink, holding on to the rail for dear life.
“I’ve always wanted to do this,” Vector said.
“Do what?” Haylie asked. “See the Christmas tree?”
“All of it really,” he said, looking down at her hand in his. “The whole lot.”
Haylie looked up to the enormous tree and grabbed Vector’s arm, huddling for warmth. Almost on cue, giant snowflakes began to fall, filling the night sky with a fog of white.
“Actually, the thing with Agent Wilcox,” she said. “She’s trying to put together a team.”
“Is that right?”
“She asked me to lead it,” Haylie said coyly, looking up at him. “Wants me to help recruit people. It sounds kind of interesting.”
“You’d work for them?” Vector asked, stepping back. “With Ha
ncock as president and everything?”
“Maybe the best way to keep an eye on him is from the inside, you know?” Haylie said. “If I’m leading up one of the government’s top tech teams, then at least I’d know what’s going on. Out here I’m blind.”
He looked at her for a moment, shaking his head. “You do what you want, but no way I’m joining your crazy team.”
“Why not?”
“And have my girlfriend be my boss?” Vector asked with a smile. “The rest of the group would hate my guts. I’d be signing up for years of badgering.”
She wrinkled her nose back at him, hitting him across the chest and then leaning back into his arms.
“The question isn’t if I’d do it,” Vector continued. “I’ll stick with you no matter what. The real question is—is it what you want to do?”
“I’d say it’s intriguing,” she said with a smile. “And as you know, when I have a decision to make, I always ask myself, ‘What choice would make the better story?’ ”
The ice skaters below twisted and turned, leaving streaks behind them as other crossed their paths, tracing their trails together, forming shapes that looked brand new, and at the same time, strangely familiar.
She turned back to the tree, watching the snow fall down on the electric web of lights, the flakes bumping off each other—spinning and falling into dust on the ground. The strands of lights drew lines and grids across the sky, crisscrossing at right angles over her head. They were each shining bright, casting different patterns of light and shadow, but all connected and swaying as one.
She felt her phone buzz in her pocket, glancing down and wondering who it might be. Mom, trying to ask if everything was okay? Wilcox with another hacker to track down? For now, she didn’t want to know. She took a breath and turned back to Vector, holding his hand tighter.
Right now, she just wanted to enjoy the moment—away from all of it.
Just for tonight, the rest of the world could wait.
> > > > >
Haylie Black will return in the summer of 2017.
> > > > >
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About the Author
Christopher Kerns has spent more than twenty years advising top companies on technology strategy. His thoughts and opinions on tech and data have been featured in The New York Times, Wall Street Journal, The Daily Mail, and USA Today. He lives with his family in Austin, TX.
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Crash Into Pieces
The Haylie Black Series: Book Two
Copyright © 2017 Christopher Kerns
www.ChristopherKerns.com
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Twitter: @chriskerns
Old Ballard Press
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ISBN: 1539154424
ISBN-13: 978-1539154426
Edited by Joanne Gledhill
Copyedited by Lauren Ellerbee
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the expressed written permission of the publisher.
Crash Into Pieces (The Haylie Black Series Book 2) Page 30