Wind Storm (The Gathering Storm Book 3)

by Marlow Kelly

  She shook her head and finally met his gaze. The bruises on her face were purple, but the swelling had subsided. “I would imagine any competent investigator would be able to find out what I do and draw conclusions.”

  “I agree.” Michael didn’t look up from the screen. “There’s something hinky about it.”

  “What are you doing?” Finn asked. Michael obviously wasn’t going to share.

  “I’m checking to see if my virus worked or if it’s been discovered and shut down.”

  “What virus?” Finn shouldn’t be surprised by the announcement. Michael was a white hat hacker and a former investigator.

  “When I was undercover at PDE, there were two computers set up to run on a separate network. I believe they are being used by the Syndicate. I installed a piece of code that will link it to the regular internet.” Michael sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes, another blocking mechanism. “We needed to know what they were doing so we could stay a step ahead.”

  Finn gritted his teeth to contain his reaction. If they weren’t both going through hell, he would be cursing up a storm. “Let me get this straight. You used a virus to join an air-gapped system to the web. How did you upload this…code?”

  Sinclair slumped on the couch. “We infiltrated the system in the PDE building.”

  “When?” Finn demanded.

  “Earlier this evening while my mom and sister were being…” He fisted his hands then unflexed his fingers before he scrubbed his hands over his face.

  Neither of them would meet Finn’s gaze. Shit. “Why do you think they are after you now, after all this time?”

  Michael shrugged. “I have a theory, but I needed to access their secure network to be sure.”

  “Do you think they attacked tonight because you were spotted?” Even as he spoke, he knew that didn’t make sense. The kidnapping occurred before Sinclair and Michael had returned. Unless… “Did you go anywhere after you broke into PDE?”

  Michael finally met his gaze. “That guy that tried to plant the knife at Tim’s—”

  “Ethan Moore, the killer.” Even saying the name made the hairs on the back of Finn’s neck stand on end.

  “Yeah, him. We bumped into him. He warned us that they…” Michael swallowed and then continued, “He said Ava had used her phone, and if we hurried, we might be able to save them.”

  Finn gave a long, slow whistle. “You’re saying that Ethan Moore caught you at PDE, and instead of killing you, he warned you. Why would he help?” As far as he could tell, Moore was an assassin for the Syndicate, so warning Michael, telling him about the attack, didn’t make sense.

  “I don’t know.” Sinclair stood and pulled her knees to her chest one at a time, stretching her leg muscles. “I got mixed signals from him.”

  “What do you mean?” Finn ignored that her torso was pointed away from him, something which normally meant the subject was uncomfortable with the conversation. Her distress could be caused by the fact that people under her protection had been taken.

  Finally, she stopped and faced him. “Initially, he went for his weapon.”

  “A knife or a gun?” As far as he knew, Moore only used a knife.

  Michael closed his eyes. “He was wearing a heavy-duty gun belt. His weapon—I think it’s a Barretta—was tucked at the small of his back and his knife was at his side.” He opened his eyes. “Does that help?”

  Sinclair stared at Michael for a moment and then said, “Yeah, thanks. He didn’t reach behind him. He was going for his side—”

  “Which means he was going for his knife. Did he draw it?” Finn needed clarification.

  She shook her head. “No, I tagged him with my baton before he could, and then we ran.”

  That didn’t make any sense, but everything in Sinclair’s non-verbal communication told him she was being honest and forthright. “When did he warn you?”

  Michael’s tremoring hands hovered over the keyboard. “We were escaping. He called down the stairwell. He said we could still save them.” He sat back, covering his face with his hands. “Obviously, we failed.”

  Finn ignored Michael’s torment, not because he didn’t feel sympathy for his friend, but because he couldn’t follow Michael into his anguish-filled crater of guilt and misery. If he did, he wouldn’t be any use to anyone. “Ethan warned you and didn’t come after you?”

  “But initially he went for his weapon,” Sinclair added.

  “That could’ve been a reflex,” Finn said more to himself than his friends. “Maybe something’s happened that’s soured Moore’s relationship with the Syndicate, or maybe he’s playing a long game.” Ethan had robbed a bank a month ago, put a number of customers in danger, set fire to the bank, nearly killed Detective Ramirez, and taken attorney Sophia Reed as hostage. Then, in a surprise twist, he had killed his fellow accomplices and given Ms. Reed proof that a group of businessmen were setting fire to buildings on the east side of the city. “There’s no way to tell what Ethan’s up to,” he said finally. “We might as well deal with what we know.”

  “What do we know?” Sinclair sat on the couch, her gaze focused on Michael.

  He stared at her for a long moment and then turned to Finn. “Lucy’s financials don’t add up. Years ago, she purchased several large properties abroad, worth millions, with money that couldn’t be traced back to her legitimate businesses. When the recession hit, she sold them, and hey presto, she had clean money to prop up her companies. I didn’t mention this before because I couldn’t prove it.”

  “You suspect money laundering. What illegal activity is Lucy into that requires her to hide income?” Finn asked. As a former federal agent, Michael would’ve known the FBI didn’t chase after half-baked suspicions.

  “That’s another reason we planted the virus. We needed to know what resources they had at their disposal, and we wanted to stay one step ahead of them,” Sinclair stated.

  Michael cleared his throat. “Whoever set up their system is brilliant. They’re hiding their communications in signals from our own satellites. They’ve hacked military, government, research, and diplomatic organizations globally. If information is the new currency, these guys own the world.”

  Finn felt as if he’d slammed into a wall of ice. His hands and feet went numb, and it felt as though his heart had stopped beating. “Fuck. Can you tell what they’re doing with it?”

  “Not yet. I need to go into the dark web and, even then, it’ll be hard to tell what they’re up to. There’s just so much data, it’s overwhelming. I need to isolate a piece of info and then see what they’re using it for. They could be selling it, and there’s always blackmail, but that’s just speculation on my part.”

  “What if it’s not for sale. What if they’re using it for their own purposes?” Sinclair asked.

  “Umm…” Michael tilted his head. “The only way to really know is to hack their communications.”

  “I don’t understand. I thought they were using our satellites, so you must be able to see their messages.” Sinclair crossed the room and placed her hand on the back of his chair. It wasn’t an overtly intimate gesture, but she was invading his personal space, something that didn’t bother him in the least.

  Michael turned to face her. “They’re encrypted.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Can you hack it?”

  “If I can find the key to unlocking the code, then yes.”

  “How long do you think that’ll take?” Finn wasn’t really sure he understood what was going on.

  “I don’t even know if it’s possible. When I dealt with this kind of encryption before, I would always plant a keylogger so I would have access to everyone’s passwords before I started. Then it would just be a matter of…” Michael stared into space. He was completely motionless. It was as though someone had flicked an off switch and powered him down.

  Sinclair waved a hand in front of his face.

  Michael didn’t flinch.

  Finn emerged from behind his desk and sto
od next to Sinclair. “Has he ever done this before?”

  She shook her head.

  Suddenly, Michael gasped for breath, inhaling as if he’d stopped breathing for a while and then started again. “I remember.”

  “Remember what?” Finn had no idea what he was talking about.

  Michael bounced out of his chair, grabbed Sinclair by the shoulders, and gave her a peck on the lips. Then he paced the room, his energy restored. “I remember what I did before Portman hit me with his car.”

  Sinclair laughed, her delight at Michael’s statement apparent. “That’s great.”

  Finn returned to his ergonomic seat behind his desk and waited for Michael to calm down.

  His friend danced around, mumbling to himself for a few more minutes and then sat in his seat and faced Finn. “In their secure system I planted a piece of malware that can hack all their passwords and usernames. All I have to do is activate it and I’ll have them.”

  Finn wasn’t a slouch when it came to computers, but he needed clarification. “Let me get this straight. You designed two viruses to penetrate this secret network. The first one, which you planted back in January, stole their usernames and passwords. The one you downloaded this evening enables you to log in to their system via the internet?”

  Michael’s hands glided over the keyboard. “Yes, but I don’t think I activated the first one. I put it in the system and planned to go back later when things had calmed down. It never occurred to me that I would get hit in the head and lose my memory.”

  “Is there any way to tell? Do you have some kind of storage for the information, a flash drive maybe?” Sinclair returned to her seat on the couch.

  “Not a flash drive. I never store the information physically. Usually, I create a cloud account with a data storage company.”

  “A cloud account?” Sinclair asked.

  “It works in the same way as most email accounts. You can open your Gmail from any computer or smartphone because Google stores it on the web. Cloud storage is also held on the web so all I have to do is bring up the data company and enter my account details. That way I can open it anywhere.”

  “You said you didn’t trigger the first virus.” Finn wanted to bring Michael back to the subject at hand. “If it wasn’t you, who did?”

  “One minute.” Michael stared at the screen and then tapped a few more keys. “Huh. The IP address suggests that it was initiated from Lucy’s terminal.”

  “Do you think she wanted the information, too?” Sinclair asked.

  Michael frowned. “I don’t see how, and as far as I can tell, no one has accessed my storage files. I think someone might have set it off by mistake.”

  Finn tapped his desk with the end of his pen. “And you didn’t know about the first virus before today?” Michael had perfect recall. He never forgot anything.

  “Concussion.” He said the one word as if it explained everything, and maybe it did. Temporary memory loss from a head trauma was common.

  “So you planted a virus in January to get their usernames and passwords but never activated it. Then someone gained entry to Lucy’s office, set it off, and stole the passwords. When did they do this?”

  Michael typed, searching for the data. Regaining his memory seemed to have revitalized him. “Two days ago.”

  Shit. That was just before Sinclair was attacked.

  Michael continued working, seemingly unaware of the timeline he had just uncovered. He stopped and stared at the screen. “According to this, one percent of Lucy’s profits are sent to the Global Democratic Coalition, which is also known as the GDC. They’re a legitimate organization. Their website says they want to spread democracy around the world. I’ll need to do some digging into them. It’ll take time.”

  Finn stood and grabbed his jacket, which was hanging on his office door. “I’m going to talk to the detective in charge of the investigation into the break-in at Child Seeker’s International. Then I’ll talk to the fire marshal and the arson investigator.”

  “It’s close to one in the morning. Will they be up?” Sinclair twirled a finger around a lock of hair, an action that told him she was stressed despite her seemingly calm manner.

  “It takes hours to evaluate a crime scene and an arson where there are still hot spots to be extinguished. If they’re not available, I’ll head to my place and take a shower. We have bathroom facilities downstairs, so I’ll bring back some toiletries and a T-shirt for each of you.”

  She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Thanks. Watch your back.”

  Michael didn’t seem to notice Finn’s departure. He was absorbed in his work.

  Finn closed the door and headed for his SUV in the parking lot.

  Michael had planted some malware while using an Army CID alias in an unsanctioned operation to obtain password information. And then, earlier this evening, they had broken into PDE and planted a second virus so they could access a secure, private network. They had done all this without a warrant. That meant there were legal implications to their actions. Not only could they be charged, but Finn couldn’t act on any intelligence they’d provided. Any lawyer worth their retainer would claim it was fruit of the poisoned tree.

  By the time he reached his car, he’d changed his mind about contacting Granite City-Elkhead County Police department and the fire marshal. They could wait until morning. He needed some space to figure out what to do next. He would have to tell Kennedy. It was bad enough he had a murder board behind his fridge, but if he kept Michael and Sinclair’s actions from her, he ran the risk of making her an unwitting accomplice to their crimes.

  He texted her, asking her to meet him at the Dumb Luck Café at six in the morning. Once he explained the situation to her, he would call Supervisory Special Agent in Charge Martin DeLuca and inform him of this development.

  He started his vehicle and pulled out of the lot. What the hell was going on? The Global Democratic Coalition was an international political group. He hadn’t seen that coming. He’d always believed the Syndicate’s motive was greed. He’d grown up poor, so he understood wanting more, but this was something else—this was about power.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Sinclair sifted through the printout Michael had given her. There were pages and pages of financial statements. With each business, she googled their location and their social media, trying to find anything that seemed out of place. Attempting to assess whether a company was legitimate was difficult for her. She wasn’t an accountant or a hacker. Her work involved talking to people, asking questions, and a lot of legwork. This was way out of her comfort zone, and her lack of experience could, in the end, be a liability.

  The pair of them were crowded together, sharing Agent Morris’ desk. She took another sip of stale, acidic coffee, which made her stomach cramp in protest. It was two in the morning, and she had the beginnings of a fatigue headache forming behind her eyes. The facts and figures in front of her smudged together.

  She stood. She wasn’t going anywhere; she just couldn’t stay seated and not fall asleep. This time yesterday she had been curled up in Michael’s arms. The weekend they’d spent together at eighteen had always been important for her, although she had never realized why. Now she knew. It was because he made her feel like she belonged. She’d never felt at home anywhere except in his arms.

  After years of meaningful looks and touches that lasted a moment too long, they’d finally gotten together. Unfortunately, it took more than love to make a relationship work. It was bad enough that Milo was seriously injured, but with Nadie and Ava taken…the guilt was just too much. At least it was for her. If she could go back in time and change her decision to join Michael on his mission to PDE, she would. She twisted at the waist, popping the ligaments in her lower back.

  Michael hadn’t moved, stretched, or done anything except work for hours. He also couldn’t look her in the eye. He probably blamed her for what happened, which was understandable. Protecting people was her job. Finn had asked her t
o stay with the family because he knew how capable she was. Instead of doing her duty, she’d allowed herself to get distracted by their familiarity with the location and her own need to be loved. In doing so, she had let down her guard.

  Finally, she sat and stared at the pages in front of her. The only thing she could do now was work to get them back. She straightened her spine and concentrated on the list of commercial properties held by PDE and Lucy Portman. The name of the Sun Down Hotel caught her eye. She remembered that establishment from when she had lived on the street. It was making an awful lot of money for a business that was situated in a derelict part of town known to locals as East of Hell. It was called that because it started at Hellebore Avenue and spread out from there. The area was notorious for its cheap boarding houses, druggies, and gang activity. They had avoided it when they’d lived on the street.

  She elbowed Michael. “Take a look at this. Do you think this place is really making this kind of bank?”

  He rubbed his face and then cleared his throat. “Sure, that seems legitimate.”

  He was dismissive of her, which pricked at her raw nerves. She was tempted to snap at him but buried the impulse. They were both tired and upset; losing her temper wouldn’t help. “What are you working on?”

  He sat back in his chair, still not looking at her. “I’m trying to identify the members of the Syndicate before they find my virus and shut it down. I’ll hand the information over to Finn. That way, if the worst happens, he can stop them.”

  Pain shot through her chest, and she suppressed a gasp. What he hadn’t said but meant was if they kill me, which was a real possibility. She couldn’t let that happen. If she stuck by his side, then perhaps she could stop it, stop him from throwing his life away. Huh, she was creating her own emotional Gordian knot, an unsolvable problem. She felt guilty for going with him to PDE, leaving Nadie and the others unprotected. At the same time, she needed to protect Michael and couldn’t stand the thought of anything happing to him, which was why she’d accompanied him in the first place.