Tracker Hacker

by Jeff Adams

  “You holding up?” Coach asked, breaking the silence as we walked along the corridor.

  “You saw that game, right?” I said with thick sarcasm. “Worst game I’ve played in five or six years. Those guys deserved better than that.”

  “The team still won. Don’t beat yourself up—”

  “Please don’t.” I stopped, spun around, and looked at him. “Let’s focus on this, and we’ll deal with the hockey mess later.”

  He gave one curt nod before I turned back and kept going to our target. Luckily no one listening on the earpiece chimed in about the game. As he’d done yesterday, he stayed at the top of the stairs.

  Someone had fixed the junction box I’d breached to the degree you wouldn’t notice anything different unless you knew how it’d been before. They’d upgraded the keypad to a fingerprint system, which I was ready for thanks to the tech I’d recently tested with Dad. Hopefully whoever installed the new system had tested it and left me a print to grab.

  “Winger here. They swapped the keypad for a single fingerprint ID. Trying out the new app now.”

  “Perfect,” Lorenzo responded. “Another field test.”

  I grinned as the phone read the panel. There was a print, which the app grabbed and was able to project back. The panel popped open just as it had yesterday.

  “That’s another positive test completed,” I said. Was it bad that tech working correctly improved my mood?

  Everything inside the box looked the same as when we started yesterday. They’d even made a clean patch of the wire I’d cut into. I went through the same motions as yesterday, and it seemed to take less time today.

  “Winger here. I’m in. Setting up the remote tablet now. Stand by.”

  I quickly unspooled the connector wires from my pack and attached it to the tap. My hands shook as I pulled the tablet from the pack and tried to hook up the small connector to the port on the tablet. It was far more difficult than it should’ve been. Where’d the calm go all of a sudden?

  “Come on,” I said to no one in particular.

  “Winger, what’s wrong?” asked John.

  “What do you need?” I heard Coach in the earpiece as well as a whisper from his position.

  “Nothing!” I snarled. “Just need to calm down. I’m shaking like I’m on a first date or something.”

  “Or like a scared teenager. Take a deep breath. It’ll be okay.” It was Mom with possibly the most soothing voice she’d ever laid on me. Even more than when I’d had chicken pox and nearly clawed myself out of my skin.

  Mom’s voice did the trick and the shaking subsided.

  “You should be online, Doc.”

  “Checking.”

  I got the other cable and connected it to the fiber tap. I was moving fluidly now, like I’d expect to.

  “Connection stable,” Lorenzo said as I got my tablet hooked in. “We look good, and we should be stealth. I can’t read our connection on my monitors.”

  “I’m online as well. Starting to go for the firewall.”

  The steps were the same, and I quickly got myself up to the firewall and started my attack. This firewall wasn’t very good. For all the work they’d done getting into TOS’s systems, they didn’t have much protection up once inside their LAN. I guess they figured it was only the LAN that needed protection. Too bad they didn’t have me as their security consultant. I couldn’t help but grin.

  “I’m at the firewall.”

  “Me too.”

  I liked having Lorenzo, “virtually,” right behind me. In this case, he’d follow my path into the network so that if I got taken out, he’d still be in there. He’d be harder to detect since he wasn’t the one making the intrusion.

  “Defender?” Coach sounded very confused. “What are you doing here?”

  Dad?

  I turned slightly, keeping one eye on the tablet screen as the program did its work. I saw Coach in position, but I couldn’t see beyond him. I wanted to sprint up the stairs, but I had work here. Mom wouldn’t leave her task, so I looked between the tablet and what little I could see above.

  “What’s happening?” Yoshi asked. “Defender’s there?”

  “Defender, put the gun down.”

  Coach extended his gun, but I couldn’t see anyone near him. I hadn’t heard Dad either.

  The tablet beeped. The parameters around the firewall changed. I quickly typed commands to compensate so the program could continue.

  “Defender, you’re here!” I shouted so he’d hear. Dad couldn’t be on our channel as it was private to those on the mission. If he’d been added, someone would be talking to him. “You’re just in time. I’m about to get inside this network so we can find the missing agents.”

  “Winger, he’s not part of this mission,” Yoshi said. “D-Man, give Defender the code phrase. If he doesn’t give the response, treat him as hostile.”

  “You need to stop, Winger.” Dad’s voice echoed through the corridor, with a tone that made me cringe. That did not sound like Dad.

  “What? Why?”

  “Defender, stand down.” Coach used the voice I recognized from when he wasn’t happy with the team. “Green grass, red sky.”

  “Defender, we’re here to rescue you and stop this,” I said as the tablet beeped again.

  “Winger. Stop engaging Defender. That’s an order.” Yoshi sounded furious. What did he expect me to do with Dad up there?

  Damn it. The firewall was morphing faster than the program could keep up. This was better tech than it initially looked.

  “I can’t let you continue. Drop your weapon D-Man.” Dad hadn’t responded to the phrase.

  Coach was backing down the stairs carefully, aiming his weapon on a target I still couldn’t see.

  “Winger, you need to get out of there,” Mom said.

  “Nowhere to go,” I said quietly. “Doc, we need to take this firewall down together.”

  “On it,” Lorenzo said.

  If we both attacked while the program ran, the firewall shouldn’t be able to keep up.

  “Winger, disconnect those tablets.” Dad appeared at the top of the stairs. “Now!”

  His voice boomed through the hallway. It was the voice he used when I was in trouble and it scared the little boy inside me.

  “I don’t want to shoot you.” Coach was at the bottom of the stairs. Dad and Coach aimed at each other as Dad started his descent.

  “Take Defender out,” Yoshi said. “Now, D-man.”

  “Don’t do it!” I was in a panic. He couldn’t shoot Dad.

  My fingers flew over the tablet’s touch keyboard. I couldn’t stop now. I was too close. Dad was in trouble and I had to help him. He had to be under the mind control. No way he’d act like this otherwise.

  “Shotgun’s on the way for backup,” Yoshi said.

  “Theo!” Dad roared. “I said disconnect the tablets.”

  “Winger, do as he says,” Mom said. “It’s not worth it.”

  “No, Dad,” I said, dropping the codenames. Maybe he’d listen to his son. “Just a few….”

  Dad fired and the tablet on the floor next to my backpack went dark. I pressed myself against the wall, hoping to be less of a target. My eyes burned with tears.

  “I’m out,” Lorenzo said, his voice quivering. “I can see what Winger’s doing, but my direct connection’s gone.”

  Dad shot at me. He hit the tablet, but what if he’d missed and got me instead?

  I wiped at my eyes and turned my attention to the tablet in my hand and the firewall. I had to get in and make Dad stop.

  “Winger? D-Man?” Yoshi called out.

  More shots were fired. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw D-Man drop to the floor, clutching his shoulder. His gun clattered on the concrete as he dropped it.

  “Someone answer!” Yoshi called.

  “D-Man’s shot.” My voice shook worse than Lorenzo’s had.

  “He’s in,” Lorenzo said.

  I tried to focus on what I was doi
ng. I found the agent-control directory, not even renamed.

  Dad kicked John’s gun out of reach.

  “Defender, you don’t—” Coach went silent as Dad kicked him in the head.

  I was so close.

  “Shut it down, Theo.” Dad leveled the gun at my chest as he walked toward me.

  “Just a couple more seconds, Dad.”

  “I said shut it down!” He ripped the data connection from the junction box.

  “Winger?” Mom sounded desperate.

  “Take the earpiece out and give me your phone.”

  “Dad, no.” Tears fell as my body shook. “You know this is wrong.”

  He slapped the tablet out of my hands and stomped on it with the heel of his shoe, shattering the glass.

  The gun shook in his hand. It was as if some part of him was trying to fight against the commands he received.

  “Dad, come on. We can walk out of here, get you help, and then I can finish this.”

  “Winger, it’s Shotgun. Almost there. Doors got locked, and it slowed us down.”

  He pressed the gun against my chest.

  I shook my head and tried to find a voice that wasn’t scared.

  “You can’t do this,” I said.

  “I’m sorry, Theo, but I have to.”

  We looked at each other. A tear escaped his left eye.

  “Help’s coming,” I said. “Stay with me, and we can—”

  “Give me your phone!”

  I’d lost him. The moment was gone. I didn’t move.

  He pressed the gun harder against my chest. He jammed his hand into my jeans pocket where he knew I kept my phone. Once he had it, he smashed it into the wall, cutting off one more connection I had to the people who could help.

  “You’ve got fifteen seconds to get that earpiece out.”

  The gun wasn’t shaking anymore.

  I nodded, relenting.

  He produced tweezers from his pants pocket with his free hand and gave them to me.

  I took them and acted like I was going to do as he asked. At the last second, I changed tactics and tried to jab the tweezers into his eye. It was the only thing I could think of that would cause enough pain to get him to drop the gun and buy time for John to get here.

  It didn’t work. I must have telegraphed what I planned because he deflected the attack and sent the tweezers tumbling to the floor. I quaked, unable to calm myself.

  “Fine. We’ll do this the hard way.”

  “Winger? Just do as he says!” Mom’s voice shrieked in my ear.

  “Winger, I’ve got eyes on you.”

  “Defender, stop!” It was John. I heard him loud and clear with and without the earpiece. He was coming down the stairs.

  In a quick and fluid move, Dad pulled the gun away from my chest and knocked me in the side of the head. Once again I dropped to the floor before the mission was complete.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  THIS WAS wrong. I hadn’t even opened my eyes and I could tell things weren’t right. The percussion in my head wouldn’t stop. The left side throbbed unlike anything I’d experienced before. My right ear was ringing as if I’d been at a concert that was too loud.

  I convulsed as my brain kicked in, providing the missing details.

  Trying to hack into the enemy’s network again.

  Coach shot.

  Dad had put his gun to my chest.

  Did I really try to stab him with tweezers? What had I been doing? Trying to blind my father?

  The shakes overtook me.

  What had I gotten myself into? I should’ve done what Mom said and let the guys with the training handle it. Being safe behind the scenes was where I should be. I hadn’t signed up for this.

  Hot tears burned my eyes as I gasped for air, the emotions running free.

  I had no choice but to do this. Dad was in trouble and it was my fault. I had to do whatever I could to get him back. And now Coach had been hurt too. Where was he? And John? I hadn’t seen him before Dad knocked me out, but he’d said he saw me.

  And now I was… somewhere.

  I slowly opened my eyes. The single fluorescent light in the ceiling gave off so much light that my head unbelievably throbbed more. I held my hand to the throbbing place and hissed at the pain of simply touching my scalp.

  Dad didn’t do this. Not really. Someone was behind it all, and it was still up to me to stop it.

  How I was going to do that was a mystery. I was lying on the floor of a room barely bigger than a closet with off-white cinderblock walls, a single air vent near the ceiling, and a video camera mounted in one corner, or at least a black dome I assumed was a camera or something else to monitor me.

  The crying needed to stop.

  I took some deep breaths and sat up. The pain in my head intensified, and the rest of my body cried out from the other impacts it’d endured over the past couple of days. Stars danced before my eyes as I tried to get control of the hurt. I needed to play through this, just like I would if I was on the ice.

  Dad had really clocked me good. I’ve had head injuries from hockey, but this hurt the most.

  I maneuvered so I could sit with my back against the wall. Glaring up at the dome. Who was watching on the other side?

  Dad? The bastards responsible for all this? All of the above?

  “Winger here. Anyone?”

  I said it, even though I didn’t expect a response. Dad must’ve removed the earpiece. Was that why there was a ringing in my ear? Hopefully he didn’t cause permanent damage.

  I dropped my head against the concrete wall.

  I was screwed. I had no equipment. Was I even still near the rink? Had John been able to follow to know where I was?

  I stared at the camera. There were no wires running to it. I looked around the room, analyzing my options. The one electrical outlet had a steel conduit running up to the ceiling. The camera had nothing visible. Was it a fake? Or was it battery powered and running on Wi-Fi? Could I modify it to put out a beacon? Modify it with what, though? It was at least half a foot higher….

  Wait.

  I still had my watch. I pushed up my sleeve and checked it out; it seemed undamaged.

  Was it really after five? Dammit. Eddie was gonna hate me.

  Knocking the back of my head into the wall was a mistake, as it set off a new round of throbbing. I had to close my eyes because it hurt to look at anything. I stayed still, took some controlled deep breaths, and waited for it to pass.

  I couldn’t even think while the pounding scrambled my thoughts.

  I pulled my knees up to my chest, folded my arms across them, and laid my head down. It was slightly more comfortable than the wall. My chest tightened, despite the breathing exercises. I couldn’t stop the tears.

  I wanted my mom. I wanted Dad. I wanted to be playing on the ice. I wanted not to know all the stuff I knew.

  What would it be like to be just a normal kid? Doing homework. Hanging out with my boyfriend. Getting in trouble for staying out too late and simply being grounded from video games or whatever. So many scenarios of normalcy swirled around my head.

  “Stop being ridiculous,” I said out loud.

  That wasn’t who I was. I became Winger for a reason.

  Theo was a good guy, but Winger was more. Winger helped people, like my parents did.

  The throbbing seemed to agree because it backed off just a little.

  If someone was watching me, they could think I was still curled up freaking out. The way I positioned my arms, I could see the watch face and move my fingers to operate the controls.

  There was Wi-Fi in here. What I couldn’t tell was if it was for the camera only or if it went to the outside world. Either way it wasn’t locked. I tapped to make the connection and the watch attached immediately.

  Really?

  I went to Twitter and the Tweets flowed in.

  What could I send that was meaningful?

  Lorenzo could lock on to the watch like he did a phone. He just had t
o know to do it. Would he even monitor Twitter of all things? I needed to make these watches do more for agents. Most people still didn’t think a watch could do a lot, even though wearable tech was evolving fast. TOS should be outfitting the watches as well as they tricked out the phones.

  I activated the voice system. “Send Tweet,” I said quietly.

  “What is the message?”

  I flinched at the volume as the electronic female voice echoed in the room. If the camera had a mic, this plan would fail.

  Involuntarily I shrugged. It was still worth trying.

  “Watch me.”

  “Shall I send it?”

  I looked at the message on the screen.

  “Capitalize the first word.”

  “Shall I send it?”

  The message was about as good as it was going to get.

  “Yes. Send it.”

  The watch vibrated.

  “Sent.”

  As long as I stayed on Wi-Fi, there was a chance Lorenzo could find me.

  I swiped back to the Wi-Fi settings and adjusted them so the watch would attach to any open signal. If the IT guys were stupid enough to have one unsecured network, maybe they had it throughout the facility.

  I laid my head back on my arms for only a moment before I jerked myself upright.

  I was stupid. I got to my feet despite the dizziness that swept over me. Why was I just sitting around?

  I went to the door and found it locked. I ran my fingers over the door. It was steel, and I pounded on it. Why not act like the kid I was?

  “Hey! Let me out of here!” I screamed ignoring the rolling thunder it set off in my head.

  I suspected this is what a hangover felt like.

  “Come on! Hello?”

  It didn’t take long before the locking mechanism clicked. I stepped back. No way was I going to try to take on whoever came in. It was doubtful I’d win a physical battle. Not only was I untrained, I was sure my body couldn’t handle it.

  Dad came in, gun drawn. Plus there was that. These guys had guns and I had no defense against that. Given what had happened earlier, I was sure Dad wouldn’t hesitate to use it on me.

  “Dad,” I said, rushing him, taking a chance. I wrapped my arms around him. “We need to get outta here. This isn’t right.”