Binary

by Sarah Cole

  “I’ll have my resignation on your desk by morning. Thank you, Carter. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” she says, finally letting go of the door.

  “Yeah, me too,” I say shutting the door behind her before I slam my fist into the wall, putting a gaping hole in the drywall.

  “God damn it!” I yell.

  I was an idiot. I loved her, I let her in and she’s been fucking me over since day one. Even now, I don’t know how I’m going to let her go. I’m addicted to everything that is Anika Borkova, and I haven’t even gotten to the good parts yet. I know they are there because I see them. I feel them, but she’s the worst part of me. She feeds my sickness, and she’s managed to work her way under my skin because I let her. I fucking let her in, and now I have to find a way to dig her out. She makes me weak, and I can’t let that happen. I can’t afford weaknesses.

  Not now. Not ever.

  I pick up the phone to call Marcus, and then slam it back down. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I know the right thing would be to give him her name, but how can I when I love her? God, I love her. I’m expertly fucked. Suddenly, my cell rings on my desk. I pick it up looking at the name on the screen, Marcus Booth. What are the odds? He always seems to know just the right time to call.

  “This is Carter,” I answer.

  “Hey man, it’s Marcus. I just wanted to touch base with you. We do have some more information, but I don’t really want to talk about it over the phone. Plus, I have a few questions for you. I’m actually in the Seattle office working on this, so can you meet me for a drink somewhere?” he asks.

  “Yeah, that’s fine,” I agree, giving him the name and address of a little place I know that should give us enough privacy without being too ostentatious. I quickly send off a few emails to our security team, to Leanne about the wall in my office, and to our Access Management team to revoke all of Anika’s access, not that it will make much of a difference if she is who I think she is.

  It only takes me a few minutes to get to Tavern, the pub I’m meeting Marcus at. I step inside, immediately feeling like an overdressed douche in a nearly ten thousand-dollar Kiton suit, but I ignore the stares when I spot Marcus in the corner booth. He stands to greet me with a manly handshake, hug combo and we sit.

  “You’re looking fresh, man,” Marcus says, eyeballing me. He hasn’t changed much over the years. Still the same dark buzz cut, tanned skin and piercing eyes, but now he’s grown a bit of a beard that carries flecks of gray. He’s gained some bulk too, no doubt from training with the Bureau.

  “So are you. Looks like life is treating you pretty well.” I laugh, but it’s forced.

  “Can’t complain. My wife is due pretty soon with our third, so I’m trying to help get this case wrapped up so I can be home with her for a bit.”

  “Congratulations, Marcus. That’s awesome,” I say genuinely. The guy looks like he’s on top of the world. He looks like I felt just a few hours ago, and I feel that hole inside my soul open back up and begin to bleed out.

  The waitress comes and takes our orders, and we catch up a bit with some small talk. After she sets a few beers in front of us, he leans forward.

  “I trust you, Carter. I know you’re a good guy, and that’s the only reason I’m here.”

  “What’s going on, Booth?” I ask, using his last name like we did in college.

  “You have to promise you won’t repeat any of this.” I nod my understanding, and he continues. “We have some more information on your case, and Carter, this goes deep. Deeper than I think you realize.”

  “Go on,” I say.

  “Like I told you before, Braxton is involved in some shady shit. We’re still unsure of how the connection was made. Right now, it’s all based on assumption, but we think it started out as a gambling debt that he needed to repay. So, he did their dirty work since he had the deep connections socially… from there, we don’t know.”

  “Who is he affiliated with? Who’s the boss behind it?” I want to know if it will be Anika’s name on his lips.

  “I can’t tell you that right now, but just know we’re talking Russian mafia, politicians…Carter, it’s serious.” He says, and I nod in agreement.

  “What can you tell me?” I ask.

  “According to our source on the inside, these people aren’t hacking to steal the idea for distribution or sale. They are hacking to destroy your plans and prototypes and sell your technology on the Black Market to the highest bidder. Right now, it’s looking like Russia. They’ve already began opening bids and they are in the billions.” With his information, I place my head in my hands and massage my aching temples with my fingers.

  “But why? Obviously, the tech is worth that, but they’d still make a killing if they just waited for our product to launch and just have everything replicated and sold themselves.”

  “Think about it,” he says, and after a moment, I feel the hot sensation of panic creeping in.

  “They want to weaponize it. They aren’t using it for information processing and data transfer, they are using it to build smart weapons and revolutionize warfare.”

  “Bingo,” Marcus taps the side of his head thoughtfully.

  “Fucking, Christ.” I pull at my hair and down my beer. “What are we going to do? This is fucking insane.” I feel sick to my stomach. I know what this technology is capable of because I created it. If it falls into the wrong hands before mass production, we’re screwed.

  “We aren’t going to do shit. I am since it’s my job and stuff, but you are going to tell me as much as you know when I ask you a question.”

  “Well, it sounds like you are still an asshole.”

  “I am, but I’m an asshole who’s trying to save the world from total destruction, and trying to figure out how to save your company from the fallout.”

  “Noted,” I say, beginning to feel the effects of the beer having not eaten dinner. I signal the waitress and order some food, figuring it’d be best if the information I gave wasn’t tainted by intoxication.

  “Why does your brother hate you so much now? You guys were close.”

  “Whoa, starting off with the big ones,” I joke, but I know he’s serious and there’s nothing funny about it. “That’s the million, or should I say fifteen-million-dollar question. I’m going to come right out and say it. Braxton is an idiot. He hates me because he blames me for everything, and I have no idea why. He tells people he didn’t get an inheritance because he was just Robert Linwood’s bastard son, when it reality my father left us equal amounts. He gave the money with the stipulation that we do something meaningful with it. I started Lintech. Braxton is still searching for that meaning. The money goes to charity, like the rest of the assets did if Braxton doesn’t figure it out by age forty-five. I guess he doesn’t have goals or an end game, and that isn’t my fault. That’s all I know.”

  “That’s some heavy shit,” Marcus says and I nod as the waitress sets the burger down in front of me. I ditch my suit jacket, hanging it on the hook outside the booth.

  He writes down a few notes in a notebook he conjured out of nowhere, and I laugh.

  “What can you tell me about Anika Borkova? She began working for Lintech shortly before the hacking began.” he asks cautiously.

  “Not much to tell. She’s brilliant. Smarter and far more talented than I am.”

  “Anything to add?”

  “Nope,” I pop the p, and take another bite of my burger.

  “Carter, don’t insult me. You’re a good liar, but I did train at Quantico, just like all the other agents and I can smell that bullshit from a mile away.”

  I drop the burger onto my plate. “Why don’t you tell me what you already know and I’ll fill in the blanks for you, because from the way it sounds you know a lot more than I do about her. I was just kept in the dark and fed shit.”

  “I know you two fuck like bunnies every chance you get, so you must know something.”

  “Just because you stick your dick in someone
doesn’t mean you know them,” I defend.

  “Fair point. I take it from the way you’re acting that you learned of her familiarity with your brother.”

  “That’s one way of putting it, but how did you know?” I ask.

  “We were there too. Since you’re eating I’ll talk and you can listen. We’re still trying to piece her together. This woman is a blank slate, a complete mystery. We only know the basics from what are in sealed files, but everything else has been scrubbed. Her father was a double agent for both the CIA and FBI. He was a Russian immigrant that was granted citizenship and protection from the Russian government if he were to work for the United States so they could benefit from his skills. Ivan Borkova was the best agent you’ve never heard of, and the best hacker there was. He singlehandedly uncovered information that stopped multiple terrorist attacks on foreign and home soil, and he was a certified genius.

  We are still unsure on the details because the information was never recovered after he and his wife’s deaths, but the rumor is he uncovered information on or about someone he shouldn’t have and they came knocking on his door. His wife was murdered brutally. Several officers who worked that case ended up quitting or in therapy it was so gruesome, and Ivan kind of fell off the grid. He resigned and became a private contractor, but five years to the day after his wife’s death, he put a bullet in his own brain.

  After that we know Anika’s younger brother, Erik was admitted to several rehab programs for minors, and some other therapies. Anika went off to college and graduate school, graduating with honors and launching multiple businesses and startups. Pretty impressive for a girl with such a screwed-up past.”

  “I knew most of that. Apparently, she was truthful about some things,” I mumble, feeling like I got hit with a lead weight.

  “That’s the strange part, Carter. There is absolutely nothing else on this woman. Nothing. Her social media is squeaky clean, no personal pictures. No online accounts other than online grocery deliveries, utilities, and your random retailers. No one has tagged her in anything. She has no real friends or social connections. She’s a living breathing ghost. It’s like she’s real and living, but with no footprint like a typical citizen would have.” Based on the Anika I know, everything Marcus is saying makes complete sense, but I’m still having trouble processing.

  “I can see you’re still working through this. I’m ninety nine percent certain Anika is our hacker, Carter,” he says the very thing that I’ve been trying not to think is possible for the past few hours, but I know he’s right. She’s just that good.

  He takes a swig of his beer and continues on. “We can’t prove it, but my gut tells me I’m right. I’m not kidding when I say, she’s the best. For years, we’ve been trying to track down Phantom Kiss with no success. I’m almost in awe here.”

  “Why are you certain it’s her?” I ask, interrupting his little obsess fest.

  “All the signs point to it. She’s Russian, her dad was a hacker and she works in technology so obviously she’s capable and familiar, she has an unnaturally clean record, she began working at Lintech shortly before all of this began, she’s clearly connected to Braxton, and she has you in her pocket, or I guess I should say, in her panties.”

  I let out a heavy sigh. I knew all of this, I just had to hear it out loud. I had to hear the words from someone else before I could believe the woman I’ve fallen in love with could possibly be the very person that ruins my life and this country.

  “Carter, can you tell me anything that I don’t already know? Like why she might be working with Braxton on this?”

  “No. I’ve already told you. I only found out ten minutes before you called that she and Braxton even knew each other. I put a few of the other pieces together on my own out of common sense, but I have no idea. None.” I place my face in my hands as if the action alone will magically help me make sense of this train wreck.

  “Listen, I’ve got to get back to the office because the rumor is that this is all coming to a head on Wednesday.” He stands, and I do the same, tossing a hundred on the table and grabbing my jacket.

  “That’s fine. I’ve got some more work to do anyways,” I say.

  “If you think of anything else, or hear from her, give me a call. Just try to keep things on lockdown in the meantime and lay low,” Marcus says, grabbing my shoulder before heading to the door.

  “We’ll get her,” Marcus says confidently, looking back at me before walking through the open door. I’m not about to tell him that’s what is weighing on me the most. I can’t tell him that while I hate her, I still love her. My only option now is Obsidian where I can fuck my way to forgetting, but I don’t even think I have the energy to do that because all I feel is an ache deep in my chest where Anika used to fit.

  Anika:

  I plug the flash drive that Braxton gave me into a dummy PC, and open its contents. On it there’s a list of instructions on where to be, when, what all they need from me, and so on. This all seems so contrived for a group of criminals. I commit the information to memory and delete the files and remove them from the drive. Switching back to my main computer, I edit the content, format the remaining files and transfer them over to the portable drive I will deliver on Wednesday. This only takes me a few hours, but it will be time well spent. Even if my plan fails and someone walks away with this, it won’t be even remotely close to what Carter has prototyped. It can’t be since I’m still unsure of their intentions.

  I know all about this technology and the things it can do, and I’m not about to let go of it. I’ve been feeding them bits and pieces since all of this began, and sure, if they put the pieces together, they will build something workable, but not nearly as capable. The drive I’m giving them Wednesday has everything on it, and at first glance it will appear to be all of the plans, hardware specs, software coding, instructions and notes, but if accessed and run for long periods of time, like I know it will be, the virus I implanted will eat away at the files and computer. Any networked computers associated with it will also be affected. It will destroy all of their data while simultaneously pinging government agency networks and alerting them to the identities of the users, their locations and the ability to remotely access copies of the non-corroded files on the back end. This may be the most complex thing I’ve ever coded and designed. I honestly don’t think anything like this has ever been done before, but I tested it, and it worked.

  I finish transferring everything to the external drive, and check my phone. It’s after midnight now, and I still haven’t heard from Carter. I shouldn’t worry, but he said he’d call…he always calls. I decide he’s just busy and get back to work responding to a few emails I never got around to earlier.

  ****

  I wake with my alarm and the soft peachy glow of morning sunlight peeking through my curtains. I pull on a pantsuit, and get ready quickly, styling my hair into loose waves and applying my usual makeup. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s this nagging in my mind telling me something isn’t quite right. Although early, I find myself eager to get to the office. I need Carter. I feel like he is the only one that has the ability to ground me and calm me when I begin to derail.

  I check my phone, noticing I still have no messages from Carter and now I really begin to worry. As I drive, my mind runs through the million and one things that could have happened to him with all of the shit I’m tangled up in. I park in my designated space and practically run from the parking garage to the office.

  When I enter the lobby and swipe my badge, it beeps and instead of turning green like it does every day, it remains red. I look at the guard, and he glances at the screen, reading something.

  “Is there something wrong with my badge?” I ask him.

  “I’m sorry Ms. Borkova. Let me call security down here so someone can escort you to your floor.” He picks up the phone to call, and I feel the unease begin to settle in.

  A few moments pass, and finally a couple of security guards appear to escor
t me up the elevator. Reaching the floor with Carter’s and my offices, they take me directly to Leanne’s desk, never leaving my side.

  “Leanne?” I question, and her eyes widen when she looks up.

  “Ms. Borkova, come with me. She states formally without her usual warmth, getting up from her desk.” I keep pace with her. The security guards are never more than a few feet behind us as she walks me to my office. We reach the door and she looks up at me with a disappointed look.

  “You will need to gather your things and hand in your access cards to me when you are finished. Your employment at Lintech has effectively been terminated.”

  “Where’s Carter, Leanne?” I ask, my voice deceptively calm.

  “Mr. Linwood will not be in the office today.”

  “Can you tell me why?” I ask.

  She looks me square in the eye with the disappointed look my mother used to give us when we did something wrong, “He said that you will know exactly what you did. You have ten minutes. Mr. Harris and Mr. Trent will be waiting for you outside. Take care of yourself, Anika.” With that she turns and walks back down the hallway towards her desk outside Carter’s office.

  I open the door to my office, and realize there really isn’t much here that I need. I have a travel mug I really like, a spare set of glasses and a gray cashmere wrap for when its drafty, but beyond that, my corner office is bare and devoid of anything meaningful. I let out a sarcastic laugh at the parallels this space draws with my life. Since I have a few minutes, I decide to sit down at my desk and turn on my computer. I need to see if I can get any information about what exactly he knows. I try my log in, but it is locked just like I knew it would be, but trying to circumvent the system, I try the group logon, then Carter’s. Everything has been reset overnight.

  “How did this happen?” I wonder out loud. Glancing at the stack of papers on my desk, I spot a folded piece of stationery from Carter’s desk. I pick it up and open it to find Carter’s neat handwriting printed across the page. It’s only three lines, but those three lines snip the final threads of sanity that were holding me together.