Technical Risk

by Sidney Bristol

  That wasn’t much comfort, but Diha knew it could be worse.

  “On to London?” she asked.

  “Should take us two hours this time of the morning.”

  Diha considered that and chewed her lip. “I think I want to go back to the hotel.”

  Miles frowned at her. “Is that a good idea? Is that safe?”

  “You mean could Valentino follow us to London?” She took a deep breath. “Maybe, but I doubt it.”

  At least that’s what she was telling herself.

  The truth was, Diha needed space. She needed to hunker down and work, recharge herself, and she wouldn’t be able to do that with him hanging around. He was a distraction and seeing the guys today reminded her that people were counting on her.

  THURSDAY. BRIGHTON, United Kingdom.

  Aleksandr listened to the morning news through one ear bud.

  The shootout at the hotel had made it to every news outlet he’d seen or heard. While no one had the details right, it was simply a matter of time until someone found a lead.

  Like the couple from the hotel had.

  Aleksandr was fairly certain those two were some form of law enforcement themselves. They’d looked like the type. And if they could find his targets, someone else could, too.

  He enjoyed doing a job right.

  In this case, that meant making his two targets disappear as if they’d never been born.

  But that kind of work took time, and he needed to not be under pressure.

  He shifted his position a bit to get a better read inside the hotel room. The infrared device was one of the most expensive tools in his kit. He could see through several walls with it, which let him keep tabs on his two targets.

  Letting the police get close to them was out of the question. Aleksandr was a professional. He did his job without excuses. It just might not be his best work.

  The audio in his headset clicked.

  Someone had picked up the room phone.

  He titled his head as someone punched in numbers, then listened to it ring.

  “Captain’s,” a clipped voice answered.

  “Hi, yeah, I’d like two fish and chips baskets delivered.”

  The voice ordering made Aleksandr pause.

  Cleaver accent. It was good enough he hadn’t at first realized it was Valentino. The man had many talents.

  “Yeah, it’ll be twenty minutes,” the man from Captain’s said.

  That was Aleksandr’s window.

  Twenty minutes and he’d finish this job. There would be a mess, but at least it would be done. Skilton wouldn’t mind in the end. The loose ends would be cut and everything made right.

  Aleksandr always did his job.

  THURSDAY. OLD CRASH Pad. Brighton, United Kingdom.

  Valentino stepped out of the bathroom just in time to glimpse Viggo lowering the phone from his ear. He hunched his shoulders and jammed the phone into his pocket, never once looking at her. She pulled the towel away from her head, as if that would help her see the situation clearer.

  “What did you do?” she asked.

  Viggo turned and looked at her. “The dark hair is nice.”

  “What the fuck did you do?” She dropped the towel and stalked around the messy queen bed. She’d come out for the pants she forgot to take into the bathroom with her. It was a good thing, too.

  “I ordered lunch,” he said slowly.

  “You—what? Seriously?” She shoved a hand through her hair.

  If he didn’t stop, she was going to kill him to put him out of her misery.

  “We haven’t eaten since yesterday. What do you want me to do? Starve?”

  “Or maybe walk your happy ass around the corner to the store? We don’t have money to get food delivered right now. Do you understand that?” She’d dumped all their cards when they’d left the first crash pad. That meant that the bulk of their funds was now unavailable.

  “I wanted something besides junk food.”

  “Really? Then what culinary delight did you order? Pizza?”

  Viggo’s scowl darkened. “Fish and chips.”

  “Oh, really? That’s so healthy. Good for you.”

  “You’re being a bitch.”

  “And you’re being stupid.”

  Viggo glanced away from her. “First you’re the one who is paranoid, but won’t move. Then we have to rush out. Now I’m the stupid one for trying to take care of the situation?”

  “Don’t turn this around on me because you had a bad idea.” She grabbed a clean pair of sweatpants and stepped into them. “Cancel the order.”

  “No.”

  “Cancel it.”

  “I’m not going to.”

  She growled and whirled. It was too hard to think through the anger and all this wet hair clinging to her. She wasn’t going to fix Viggo’s stubbornness, but she could do something about her damn hair.

  Valentino yanked the hair dryer out from under the sink, plugged it in and attacked her now black hair with a brush and the dryer.

  They were down to a couple hundred bucks.

  The best thing to do was buy passage off the island. Flying was out of the question, which meant a train or boat. She wasn’t fond of either option, but at this point she couldn’t afford to be picky. She also couldn’t use her old contacts.

  It was a good thing she’d juggled online personas.

  Valentino was the name she was known by because Valentino did big things. But she had two other names that she could make use of now. They weren’t well-connected, but she could likely get them a small job and transportation somewhere that would allow them to lie low for a while until she was better equipped to deal with Skilton.

  A knock at the door had her flipping the dryer off.

  One of the things Viggo had liked best about Brighton was the quick delivery service. Something about the younger college crowd and all the clubs meant they could get hot food in minutes if they ordered from the right place.

  Valentino turned and leaned against the vanity.

  Viggo stood from where he’d been sprawled on the bed and glared at her.

  She picked up the gun she’d left sitting on the towels and held it just behind her leg.

  He shook his head and peered out the window. “It’s just the damn food.”

  “Okay, then pay for it.” And when he burned through the cash, she’d given him, he could go without.

  Viggo unlocked the room and cracked the door open. “Hey, uh—”

  Suddenly Viggo lunged.

  The door banged open, but it was the blast of muzzle fire that made her head ring.

  For one frightful moment the world seemed to stop.

  A man wearing a blue track jacket with the hood up and a baseball cap shielding his face stood over Viggo, pointing a gun at him.

  Her brother.

  The only person who mattered in her life.

  Valentino screamed and raised her own gun. She fired blindly. At this range she couldn’t miss, and she didn’t.

  The man’s shoulder whipped back, blood spraying the wall behind him.

  She swung with her left hand, not realizing until the end of the dryer connected with the man’s head that she’d moved or even had the thing in her grasp. She kept screaming as she fired again, straight into his chest, his face, all the while rage and fear pumped into her.

  Viggo couldn’t leave her. She wouldn’t let anyone take him from her.

  The man’s wide eyes were vacant as gravity pulled him down.

  She sucked in air, gun pointed at the man, and waited.

  “Come on, we have to go,” Viggo said, his words forced.

  She whirled toward her brother.

  Viggo was pulling himself up onto the bed.

  His jeans were red.

  Blood smeared on the blankets and sheets.

  “Shit. Oh, shit. Shit. Shit.” Her knees began to shake.

  “Val?” He reached out and grabbed her hand, hauling her closer. “Val, I need you to snap out of
it. We have got to go.”

  “You’re hurt,” she whispered.

  “Snap out of it.” He shook her.

  She nodded with the movement, fear giving her the strength to act.

  Skilton was going to pay for this.

  11.

  Thursday. Hotel. London, United Kingdom.

  It wasn’t five yet, but Miles couldn’t wait any longer.

  Diha hadn’t replied to his texts all afternoon. The last he’d heard from her was when he walked her to her room and made her promise to not open the door for anyone she didn’t know. She’d huffed at him, but he’d left her with a smile on her face after kissing her. He’d wanted to do more, maybe make use of the bed, but she’d been focused on work and he didn’t want to pull her away from that. Not even to satisfy himself.

  No, it would be better after when they’d caught this asshole. Then he could focus on the real prize.

  Diha.

  He wasn’t sure when or how the shift had come on him, it just had. For months, maybe for the last year, he’d been searching for something without knowing what it was. And then he’d seen her and everything clicked into place.

  His job gave him purpose, but that wasn’t all there was to life. He’d known that from listening to his grandparents, but it wasn’t until Diha that he’d figured out what he wanted.

  He wanted a life for himself. Yes, the job was important, but nothing he did would stop the endless cycle of crime. He had to carve out something to feed his soul or he couldn’t keep going like this. It was a simple fact.

  He strode down the hall, straining to hear the sounds behind each door.

  Mostly he heard the TV.

  One by one, he ticked off the numbers until he stood in front of her door.

  He knocked and tilted his head, listening.

  There was no TV coming from her room, but did he hear voices?

  Two shadows broke the line of light under the door.

  She must have the curtains open. The afternoon had turned out quite sunny and pleasant.

  The lock scraped and the door cracked open.

  “Miles.” Diha opened the door a little. “What happened?”

  It wasn’t the warm welcome he’d been hoping for, but seeing her was enough.

  “You weren’t answering your phone.” He braced his hand on the door and peered over her head.

  “Who is it?” Cat’s unmistakable voice called out.

  Diha glanced back, then at him.

  He pitched his voice lower, for her ears alone. “Dinner, remember?”

  “Oh.” Her brows rose and her eyes widened. “Oh, no. I forgot. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry...”

  And here he’d been looking forward to half an hour or so away from work.

  He hid the disappointment with a smile.

  “Oh well,” he muttered.

  The door opened the rest of the way.

  Cat gripped the door in one hand and grinned at him. Her red hair was piled on top of her head in a poof, and she wore a hoodie with pajama pants and fuzzy slippers.

  “Hello,” she purred.

  There was something about Cat, a slight disconnect from her words and actions to the look behind her eyes. Almost as if she were playing a part.

  “Evening, I just came by for an update,” he said.

  “Come in?” Diha stepped out of the way, clearing a path for him while wringing her hands.

  She really had forgotten.

  He hesitated, but in the end his desire to be around her won out and he entered the hotel room.

  Each of the two beds had clearly become a work station. Besides the laptops there were notebooks and papers spread out along with snacks and empty bottles.

  “Thanks for saving my boss,” Cat said as she ambled past to the closer of the two beds. He’d guessed it was hers from the rainbow, fuzzy blanket piled on one side.

  Diha came to stand next to him, the both of them looking into the room.

  “Sorry, I guess we got caught up in what we were doing,” she said.

  “It’s fine. Any leads?” He knew better than to get his hopes up. If she’d known anything, he was willing to bet he’d have heard already.

  “No, not really. Just more questions.” Her face scrunched up with worry.

  “Like?” He glanced at Cat, wondering if she would be more forthcoming.

  Cat just pulled one knee up to her chest and watched them.

  Diha stared at the windows, but from her distant look he knew she was seeing something besides the London skyline. “We’re waiting on some equipment to get here so we can make another try at the drive. Right now we can’t get anything worthwhile off it. While we were waiting, we’ve been working on figuring out how Valentino might have identified the team.”

  “What’s your theory?” And why did he get the feeling he wasn’t going to like this?

  “Valentino put names to faces fast.” Diha turned her head and looked at him finally. “Too fast, really.”

  “We know Valentino had access to our police network. Facial recognition or something?”

  Diha shook her head. “Except none of the guys have a record. The times they were arrested have all been scrubbed by their parent company, Aegis Group.”

  “Okay...” He wasn’t sure where this was going, but he knew he wasn’t going to like it.

  Diha’s shoulders slumped. “Which makes me think Valentino has access to social media facial recognition capabilities.”

  “Shit,” he muttered.

  “Exactly.” She smoothed a hand down her braid and toyed with the end. “It’s the only thing that makes sense, unless he has a source that knows the guys on sight. If Valentino has access to social media facial recognition, he can put a name to any face.”

  “How though? Isn’t that supposed to be secure?”

  “Supposed to be.” She grimaced.

  While facial recognition was a tool commonly used, the ability to put a name and face together through social media was one barrier that hadn’t been crossed. At least not publically. The ability was there. He could think of only a few companies that offered such a service.

  “Well. That’s unpleasant news,” he said.

  “Unpleasant?” Cat barked a laugh. “That’s terrifying. I mean, I hate that we have it.”

  Diha shot Cat a glare.

  “What?” Cat threw up a hand. “We do.”

  Diha wrinkled her nose. “We only use it when there’s a credible threat, and even then I don’t like it.”

  “It’s a tool. It’s out there. It was only a matter of time.” Miles didn’t like the idea of just anyone matching names to photographs either. This was just one thing in a long line that he couldn’t control or change. “Can we find out what service he used? Maybe find him that way?”

  “That’s what we’ve been working on, but we’re running up against a wall.” Diha sighed. “These companies are very secretive, probably because they know people are going to hate this technology when it becomes public knowledge. Getting them to cooperate is...difficult. It’s going to take time and lawyers.”

  “But we’ll get there?”

  “In theory, yes. The best ones already work exclusively with law enforcement, but they’re obsessed with covering themselves any time you ask for something outside their service agreements.”

  Miles wasn’t going to get too excited about this development. Chances were that by the time they got the intel Valentino would have moved on. But maybe they could take away a tool in the hacker’s arsenal.

  It wasn’t much, but leveling the playing field meant they were closer to getting Valentino. Maybe not today, but someday. He just had to be patient.

  “I’m making the recommendation that everyone attached to this investigation close their social media accounts until this is wrapped up. I’ve also asked my family to make their accounts private and to be extra cautious in the next few weeks.” Diha crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s not much, but it’s something.”

  �
�It’s pointless.” Cat rolled her eyes. “If some friend you’ve cut ties with has a picture of you and lists your name, bam. Valentino’s got you. Locking down social media isn’t going to stop anything. We live a lot of our lives online. And your little sister isn’t going to make her accounts private. You know that.”

  Diha sighed and smoothed a hand over her hair. “I can ask.”

  “And she’ll say no.”

  Miles considered that request. While his parents had never adapted to using the internet, his older brother’s wife took pictures of everything and treated her social media like their family scrapbook. Miles had done his best to stay out of most pictures, but she wouldn’t be deterred either. Not even if he cited national security.

  “I’ll pass the word along to my team.” He dug his keys out of his pocket. “Well, sounds like you two ladies are busy. I’ll get out of here and leave you to it. Need anything?”

  Cat grinned and patted the bed next to her.

  Before she could say anything, Diha spoke.

  “Did you have any updates for us?” she asked.

  “Afraid not.”

  “Okay. Well, I, um... I’ll walk you out.”

  He opened his mouth to tell her to stay put, but truth was he wanted a few moments alone with her.

  Diha slid her shoes on and followed him out into the hall.

  “I’m really sorry for forgetting,” she whispered before the door had shut.

  “It’s fine.” He reached over and took her hand. She started at the touch, as if not expecting it. In time, he hoped she would reach for him. He could be patient. “How’s your head feeling?”

  They began to stroll toward the elevators.

  “With Cat around? It’s pounding, but we’re making progress little by little.”

  “Good.” He stopped in front of the elevators. “Maybe when this is all done I can treat you to a real dinner.”

  She looked up at him. Was that surprise? “That would be nice.”

  He squeezed her hand. “Go back to your room. I don’t want you coming down with me.”

  She was focused on the end goal, as he should be.

  “Okay.”

  “And be careful. Don’t let anyone in that you don’t know.”