A cup of coffee magically appeared at her elbow.
“Thanks, Viggo,” she mumbled, never taking her eyes off the screen.
Viggo didn’t respond. He guarded her concentration as well as he guarded her body. Just as he had since the day they’d met in foster care. He’d always been there for her, and now she needed to ferret out what was bothering her so she could continue to ensure the safety of herself and her brother.
She ran her hands back through her hair and growled.
It was right there, under her nose somewhere, and she couldn’t see it.
What was bothering her?
Valentino spun from the desk, picked up the coffee and took a sip.
Viggo was sitting on the futon across the room, flipping through a magazine. He paused and glanced up at her.
“Nothing yet?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“Maybe you’re just being paranoid?”
From anyone else Valentino would make a person regret that question. She’d systematically destroy them. She was not paranoid. She was careful. But Viggo got to ask those questions. His face was, after all, the only one people had ever associated with her new persona, Valentino. If he was sticking his neck on the block pretending to be her, he could ask whatever he wanted.
“I keep wondering that myself, but I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.” She got to her feet and paced. It had been a while since she last stood and her muscles were sore.
“Should we consider moving?” Viggo frowned.
“No.” She shook her head. “If we run, we draw attention to ourselves. Best to stay put, keep our heads down and don’t panic.”
After every big job Valentino had a system. They’d go fifty or so miles, a hundred at most, and hole up for a month or two. She wouldn’t make contact or take jobs for a while. They lived quietly all while the initial investigation blew over.
“Have we tried following the money?” Viggo asked.
“I’ve done that. None of my alerts have triggered, and I’m worried about looking manually in case I get caught.”
Viggo leveled a stare at her. “What did your mentor always say?”
“Follow the fucking money.” Valentino turned toward her rig and sat back down.
It was time to take a risk. If she got caught, she’d apologize later. If she found something, well, at least she knew.
Viggo rose from the sofa and padded out of the room, leaving her to this task.
Valentino blew out a breath and cracked her knuckles. She had crawlers on the system reporting back to her all sorts of things. But nothing had proven useful. Just more useless data to dump from her mind.
Her mentor had recruited her to work jobs for this Skilton. She didn’t know much beyond those she regularly had to work with, but even that much told her that she was on the outskirts of something bigger. It suited her just fine. She got paid regularly and looked after in such a way that she wouldn’t get if she were on her own. All in all, it worked out.
Until now.
She put her fingers on the keys and began typing. A countdown clock began ticking away the seconds in her mind. It was just a guess that she’d be found out. She furiously typed away, working her way into the system, bypassing the pretty interfaces to work at the base level. With the very code that made up the system.
In theory, it was much harder to detect what she was doing. But her mentor had trained her and then recruited her to work for the very organization he did. Valentino expected a higher level of security.
She reached the root directory that would grant her access to the account information. Without having to think of the command, she downloaded everything.
Sirens blared in her head.
Would she get what she wanted? Or would she get booted out of the system first?
The download bar zipped across her screen.
One hundred percent.
“Yes!” She pumped her fist.
The screen went blank, showing only her desktop.
She’d been kicked out of the system. They’d found her out.
That was okay. She had what she needed.
Valentino leaned closer to her screen and opened the files. Regardless of whether she found anything out or not, she would be in hot water over what she’d just done.
Peace of mind would be worth it.
It was better to ask for forgiveness than permission, wasn’t it?
3.
Monday. Thames House Security Service Headquarters. London, United Kingdom.
Diha scrolled through the data, letting her gaze drift, snagging on whatever word stuck out to her.
There was a large amount of information on the train derailment. Almost too much. It had taken Diha most of the afternoon to first organize the files in a way that worked for her, then set her program to sort and index. Now, hours later, she had something to work with.
When Zora had brought her onto the team, Diha would never have imagined what her job would entail. It was so much more vast than simple cyber security. She was a virtual detective and analyst rolled up into one. And occasionally she still reset a few passwords for old time’s sake.
The key here was to look at things differently. Capable MI5 intelligence officers had gone over everything dozens of times. She couldn’t do things the same way they had. She needed to twist and turn things to see them in a different light, and from there arrive at new solutions and intel.
She had a leg up on the MI5 officers. An unfair one, but it was still her tool.
Thanks to their task force’s informants, they had previously unrelated cases they could now attribute to Valentino. Cases that shed more light on how the hacker operated. So when it came to the train derailment hack, Diha wasn’t scouring just that information set for answers. She was comparing everything about it to both claimed and unclaimed hacks performed by the same person.
It was those quieter, unclaimed jobs that told the bigger story.
“He had to be close. Did he connect directly to the system? Was he hardwired in?” she asked the empty room.
The biggest mystery surrounding the train derailment was how had the hacker gotten in?
There wasn’t any indication that the system had been corrupted by someone downloading a virus or opening a questionable email. Those were fairly normal in terms of hacking attacks on systems like this. No, as far as anyone could tell, the system just suddenly stopped responding. Like a switch had been flipped.
But that couldn’t be the case.
“Okay, so if you had to hardwire into the system, where would you be?” She grabbed her mouse and navigated to the folders containing the security footage.
The corruption on the network operating the commuter trains was extensive, which made wading through it to find the source difficult.
The suite door creaked open.
Diha froze and stared at the door leading out into the suite.
Miles Green stepped into view and leaned his forearm on the doorframe. He had his jacket thrown over a shoulder and his shirt sleeves were rolled up, giving her a glimpse of the muscles hiding under that well-groomed exterior.
To some he might just be another tall, dark and handsome man, but to her there was just something about him. His dark brown, almost black hair glistened, begging to have fingers in it. There was intelligence behind his hazel eyes that made her want to pick away at him, ask him questions. He didn’t have the typical fair skin of most Brits that she’d seen. He seemed to have a permanent tan, as if he made sure to spend just the right number of hours outside.
Her throat tightened.
He really was a handsome man. And he’d noticed her. She’d accomplished everything she’d set out to in one day when it came to him. She would go home happy. If only he didn’t look at her like an enemy.
In fact, she wished he would stop staring at her altogether. She swallowed, clicked a security footage file at random, then folded her hands in her lap, content to wait him out.
&
nbsp; His deep, rich voice filled the room. “My team hasn’t had any success today, not that you gave them much to work with.”
“We don’t have much to offer.”
“No, you’re just coming into our sandbox and wanting our toys.”
Diha cringed inwardly, but held herself together. He hit the mark there.
Miles grimaced and glanced away from her. “We are on the same team.”
“Yes, and I can’t give you anything Zora hasn’t cleared.” She glanced down at the video. Just watching it gave her a hunch. Something she wanted to follow.
It would be convenient if Cat were available to distract Miles. Maybe she’d shock him with the ridiculous things she said. However, when Diha had called the other woman, she’d been drinking in some pub with the guys.
If Diha were working on information provided by MI5, would it go against Zora’s directive to enlist their help? Could she soothe Miles by including him?
“Would you mind if I asked a few questions?” Diha let her gaze follow a few uniformed workers on her screen.
“Ask.”
“Valentino. We still don’t know the entry point for the hack, correct?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I think that’s been pretty well covered.”
“Okay. Has every person on the security footage been interviewed? Is there a list of people you haven’t been able to speak with?”
“Yes.” He sighed, the sound exasperated.
She grit her teeth and smiled. If he couldn’t sit through a few easy questions, she didn’t want his help on the harder ones. “Thanks.”
“Sorry.” He lifted a hand to his head. When he spoke, it was without the bite of annoyance. “It’s been...a trying week. What are you getting at? You’re on to something.”
If he was going to play nice, she could, too.
Diha leaned an elbow on the desk and looked at him.
“What if Valentino hacked the system directly?” she asked.
“We’ve looked into that. The short list of people we haven’t spoken to don’t have access to the areas they’d have needed to pull this off.”
She held up a hand. “That a normal hacker would need, you mean. We’re dealing with Valentino. An advanced hacker. Do you know how they hacked the New York stock exchange?”
Miles tilted his head to the side and focused on her. “No.”
This was classified, but it was old news as far as she was concerned. There was no harm in sharing it. “Between us? This still isn’t public knowledge.”
“Of course. How’d he do it?”
“The thermostat in the NYSE building. Their system hadn’t been updated and Valentino used the automated system as the backdoor into hacking the whole thing.”
His brows drew down and his lips parted, “You’re... You’ve got to be...”
“So, you see, every person matters. Especially that short list.” She leaned toward him.
He strode across the room to the edge of her desk, but not beyond. He couldn’t see her screen from where he stood, and she assumed that was intentional. He might be frustrated, but he wasn’t going to overstep. She quickly minimized the footage and brought up the portal through which she accessed the MI5 network, then turned the laptop toward him. He bent to the task without hesitation.
He spoke as he typed. “There are nineteen people we haven’t been able to track down. Now, seven of those were business people there for scheduled trips. The other twelve we suspect are a mix of visitors and illegal immigrant workers no one is going to admit work there. Here.”
“Thank you.” She could have found the list on her own, but involving him seemed like the wisest thing to do. He was helping.
“You think it could be one of them?” he asked.
She stared at the list. “I think we’re dealing with a very smart, very daring person who has gotten away with murder often enough they are willing to take chances.”
“But none of these people match the physical profile of Valentino.”
Diha’s heart fell a little at that.
Supposedly Valentino was a stocky, Caucasian man with medium brown hair kept a little long. The best theories were that he was either Spanish or Portuguese, though the only thing backing that up was the initial flurry of activity in those two countries that Valentino claimed. There was no indication he worked with a team or had a partner.
“That doesn’t mean he’s not working with someone.” She glanced back up at Miles. He was so close now she could smell him. Lemons from the bathroom soap and something masculine and spicy that she remembered all too well. “It’s my job to look at everything from a different angle.”
“Well, I hope you find something.”
“You’ve given me a start. Thank you.”
“Are you leaving soon? I can walk you out.” He shook his jacket out and slid one arm in.
“No, not yet. I want to dig a little more.”
“Alright. I will see you at tomorrow’s briefing.” A smug smile curved his gorgeous mouth. “I still think my team has a head start on you. If there’s something to be found, we’re going to find it.”
Diha didn’t take the bait. It just wouldn’t be fair. “Good night.”
Miles strode toward the door and she allowed herself an indulgent look at him. She’d hoped seeing him again would help her make sense of this silly crush. He ticked all her boxes and then some. Too bad he didn’t see her. Not really.
Oh well. She was used to being scenery. It was comfortable. Let people like Harper and Zora take center stage. They were built for it. Not her.
Diha wrapped her sweater around her, then bent to her task. She had that itch, the good kind that told her she was onto something.
She was going to find Valentino, not Miles or his team. Her. Because she was a badass.
MONDAY. UNITED KINGDOM.
Valentino stared at the transaction dated five days ago.
It was the second payment of three. The first one pre-dated the train derailment job. She’d seen payments like this one done before.
Having someone on your team assassinated was tricky business.
Were they coming for her?
Her gut said yes, but she didn’t know for certain. Not yet. Not really.
Her mentor would no doubt know it was her who’d downloaded the files by now. The fact that he hadn’t called her made the unease grow.
Someone within their hierarchy was being knocked off. Valentino refused to sit back and let that person be her. They’d been through too much to get to this place in life for her to lie down and take it.
No, Valentino would fight whatever came there way. It was the least she could do for her brother.
She glanced at Viggo’s profile. The LED light from his phone cast a harsh light up, making the scar on his neck and cheek look more severe than they actually were.
He’d taken those scars to protect her. Now, it was her job to protect him. And if that meant taking on her mentor, well, so be it. She would do it. And they would survive if she had to burn the world down around them to make sure. But first they needed a new crash pad. Somewhere to hole up and figure this out.
TUESDAY. THAMES HOUSE Security Service Headquarters. London, United Kingdom.
Miles stared at the closed door. He was aware of her even when she wasn’t in the same space he was.
Diha was in there.
No, Ms. Balakrishnan.
He didn’t know her well enough to be personal and given his sudden awareness of her as an attractive woman, he needed to stick to propriety. Despite the moment last night where they’d thrown ideas back and forth, they weren’t on the same team, no matter what everyone said. The undercurrent was clear. They were two teams forced to work together.
Miles had been lucky that several of his picks for the team had been available, not that they’d made any progress yesterday. He’d spent most of the day simply figuring out a direction for them. It was hard when they’d already come at the hack from every which
way already. No one had much new energy to give to the situation anymore.
One of the Americans barked a loud laugh. Miles studied the men. They wore suits, but it was clear from their demeanor that they were more comfortable in other clothes. A bit like him. Though that was where the similarities ended.
The door to the smaller room opened and a trio of women stepped out, led by Agent Zora Clark with Ms. Balakrishnan bringing up the rear.
He frowned before he could stop himself.
She was wearing the same navy blue kurta as yesterday, only now the elegant material was wrinkled. Her hair was up in some kind of tight, braided bun, but other than that she was the same.
Had she not gone home? Or was this an issue of luggage?
No.
It wasn’t his business. He had a job and it wasn’t minding Ms. Balakrishnan.
Zora set a notebook down on the long table and glanced pointedly at the men clustered around the donuts. “Good morning, everyone. Thank you for being punctual.”
One of the men elbowed another and they shuffled over to take their seats. Miles noted that the most obnoxious man of the bunch slid into the chair next to Diha—Ms. Balakrishnan—and reached over to poke at her knot of hair.
Miles focused on Zora, but he noted the quick glare Diha gave the man.
The inter-team dynamics were none of his business, and he had no reason to be jealous. None at all.
“Let’s get started,” Zora said and set her coffee cup on the table. “I’m going to get everyone on the same page. Please refrain from writing this down. This information is highly.”
Miles clicked his pen out of spite and kept staring at Zora.
“My team has been running down leads on the hacker known as Valentino for some time now. Recently two informants have indicated that Valentino has been a mutual contact of both.”
“Are you sharing who these informants are?” Miles asked.
Zora smiled, but it was frosty. “That’s not pertinent.”
The hell it wasn’t, but Miles knew he wouldn’t get more out of her. His gaze slid toward Diha before he could stop himself. What were the chances she’d divulge more? Like last night?
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