Exploited (Zero Day #1) Page 6

  After Agent Sanders walked away, my partner whistled low. “Wow, did you kill his dog or somethin’?”

  I rubbed my temples, the aching headache a dull throb. “Why do you say that?”

  “Agent Sanders is a hard-ass. Everyone knows that. He’s not what you would call the warm, fuzzy type, but even I’ve never seen him take such an intense dislike of someone before.” Perry took a sip of his coffee, watching me over the rim of his mug.

  “Yeah, well, I’m not too fond of him either,” I muttered.

  Perry pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. “You want one?”

  I shook my head. “Nah. I’m going to get out of here for a few and get some breakfast. You want anything?” Perry shook his head so I grabbed my keys and got to my feet. I went to turn off my monitor and paused, staring at the line of numbers and letters tucked in discreetly toward the bottom of the frame.

  12080512alwcaw.

  To most people it wouldn’t mean anything. But I had been following Freedom Overdrive for a long time. And I recognized his signature. His stamp. His big, giant middle finger right in my face.

  I knew that these numbers, these letters, they meant something.

  They had been chosen for a reason. A significant one.

  I knew that unlocking their meaning would help me find Freedom Overdrive.

  A hacker’s digital signature was akin to a thumbprint. Completely personal. Unique.

  The numbers could be dates.

  They could be times.

  They could be a goddamned address.

  I ran my hand over my face, wishing I could scream. Guessing the reasoning behind the signature was like searching for a needle in a haystack.

  Then something else caught my attention.

  06050900.

  It was buried just below the code I had been obsessing over. I had almost missed it entirely.

  06050900.

  Huh.

  That was new.

  What did it mean?

  I bent closer to the screen, my hand hovering over the mouse. Maybe this was something I needed to look into further….

  “Derek wanted me to give these to you.”

  A pile of files was dropped on my desk, jarring my hand. I looked up from the numbers on my computer into Madison’s impassive face. She barely looked at me, her lips pinched, the vibe between us tense and uncomfortable.

  If I was going to work in this office, I had to do something about the ongoing awkwardness. The guilt wasn’t so great either. Because even though I knew ending things with Madison had been the right thing to do, it didn’t change the fact that I had hurt her.

  Madison turned to walk away and I reached out to touch her arm. Just briefly. She flinched and I instantly dropped my hand.

  “Hang on a second, Maddie—”

  “It’s Madison. Or Agent Armiger. Not Maddie,” she snapped.

  “Okay, sorry. Madison. I just wanted to let you know that I truly am sorry about everything that happened.” She wouldn’t look at me. She was staring somewhere over my left shoulder, her mouth set in a thin line. Her jaw rigid. Her shoulders stiff.

  “I acted like an ass. I didn’t mean to hurt you—”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is entirely unnecessary.” Madison waved a hand toward the files she had dumped on my desk. “Agent Sanders said those came in for you from the New York field office.”

  Her perfectly manicured fingernails were digging into her palms. She looked as though she were chewing glass. Damn, she was pissed.

  I picked up the top file. “Thanks for bringing these over. Look, we have to work together. I really think we should talk—”

  Madison’s eyes finally flashed in my direction. Rage and fire. “Yes. We have to work together. That doesn’t mean I have to assuage your guilt by accepting your piss-poor apology.”

  I opened my mouth but then closed it again, deciding speaking wasn’t in my best interest at the moment.

  “You are a jerk, Agent Kohler. A grade-A asshole. There’s no way you can whitewash that.” She turned on her heel and stomped off, her blond hair swishing angrily behind her.

  There was a snicker behind me. Chaz clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Damn, you sure do know how to make enemies, Agent Kohler.” He came to stand in front of me, crossing his arms over his chest, watching me levelly. “I guess that’s what happens when you dip your wick in the coworker pool. That’s why it’s a big no-no.” He dropped his voice and leaned in toward me as if we were a couple of gossiping girls. “But tell me, Mason, are those tits real? ’Cause damn, those beauties are perky.”

  Don’t react. Don’t punch him. That would be a really bad idea.

  “Fuck off, Chaz,” I spit out, grabbing my keys and shoving past him before my fist got on a first-name basis with his face.

  I had to shield my eyes once I was outside. The sun was bright. Too bright. I had been bent over a computer for hours and my back was cramped.

  I stretched as I headed toward my car. Glancing at the time, I was shocked to see that it was already eight-thirty.

  Shit!

  Eight-thirty!

  I was supposed to meet Hannah Whelan at the coffee shop this morning. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

  I hopped into my car and revved the engine, peeling out of the parking lot as fast as I could.

  In the craziness of the hacker bullshit, I had completely forgotten about my sort-of date. I was already late. Normally I stopped in at Nan’s Coffee Shop around 8:15. What if she didn’t wait around? I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t.

  She was going to think I had stood her up.

  Damn it.

  I pulled into a tight spot between a tree and an oversized gas guzzler at the back of the parking lot in front of the coffee shop. I made a point not to hurry inside. I didn’t want to look like an idiot on top of being late.

  The shop was busy, as usual. I glanced around, not seeing Hannah. Disappointment was sharp in my chest.

  “I was beginning to think I had imagined your offer to buy me breakfast,” a teasing voice said from behind me.

  I whipped around and knocked a to-go cup full of coffee out of her hand. It landed on the ground with a thud, the top flying off and coffee splashing her legs.

  “Crap!” she shrieked, jumping backward.

  “Fuck!” I yelled at the same time, grabbing a pile of napkins and dropping to my haunches in front of her, wiping the sticky liquid from her trousers.

  “I am so sorry,” I groaned, blotting and dabbing the stains.

  “It’s okay. Really.” She reached down and took my hand in hers, giving it a squeeze. I looked up and she was smiling at me, seeming more amused than pissed off.

  I got back up on my feet and balled the napkins in my hand. “This is not a great way to make an impression, huh?”

  Hannah smoothed out her pants and cringed at the brown splotches. “It’s a good thing you have your looks going for you.”

  I snorted. She was funny. I dug that in a woman.

  I noticed the paper bag in her hand. “I take it you’ve already ordered something.”

  Hannah lifted the bag. “One cold bagel to go.” She glanced at her watch. “I really have to get to work.” She seemed apologetic. Like she didn’t want to go. Maybe I hadn’t screwed things up completely.

  “I’m so sorry, Hannah. It’s been a crazy morning. I’ve been at work since four. My head is all over the place. I was really looking forward to having breakfast with you,” I told her sincerely.

  Hannah chewed on her bottom lip. I liked her lips. The top one was slightly fuller than the bottom. She didn’t wear lipstick because she didn’t need it. She had the au naturel thing going, which was a nice change from the overly made-up women I typically went out with.

  She pushed her dark hair behind her ears. A slightly nervous gesture. Her eyes danced around before settling on my chin. She exuded a noticeable discomfort. I wondered why. She had seemed so confident yesterday.

 
; “Wow. That’s early. What made you get up at that time of morning?” she asked breezily. Simple chitchat. Making conversation.

  “Well, I’m an FBI agent.” I grimaced. “Man, that sounds cheesy, even if it’s the truth. I usually like to wait until at least the second date before pulling out my alter ego.”

  Hannah chuckled. “FBI agent? That’s impressive. And not cheesy at all.”

  “It sounds like the beginning of a bad porno.” I closed my eyes briefly, hardly able to believe the word vomit that kept pouring out of my mouth. “That was inappropriate. I apologize.”

  Hannah laughed in earnest this time, her cheeks slightly flushed. She was lovely without being conventionally pretty. There was something about her that made looking away impossible.

  “You’re right. It does sound like a bad porno. The sexy FBI agent whips out his ‘badge’ in the middle of the coffee shop.”

  Then we were both laughing.

  “You think I’m sexy, huh?” I raised my eyebrows, trying like hell to recover my flailing image.

  Hannah smirked but didn’t respond. She picked at the sleeve of her shirt. Another nervous gesture. “Why did you have to go into work so early, then? Big case?”

  I cleared my throat, stuffing my hands into my pockets. This was why I hated talking about my job. Invariably there were the questions. Questions that I wasn’t permitted to answer.

  Because as an agent there was an element of secrecy I had to keep. A necessary wall between what I did for a living and the person I shared my bed with.

  They couldn’t know the truth of what I did during the day. Not the details anyway.

  And that usually led to problems.

  Former lovers never appreciated being kept on the outside of that part of my life.

  “It was just a case. I’m not at liberty to discuss it.” I realized instantly how prickish that sounded, but I didn’t know how to apologize or excuse it without sounding worse. So I let it go. Hanging there between us.

  “Oh. Okay. I understand,” Hannah said, smiling again. Though it was strained. I was batting a thousand this morning. I waited for her to tell me to fuck off already.

  “Since you missed breakfast, do you want to have dinner?” she asked, surprising me.

  “You want to have dinner?” I asked lamely.

  Hannah licked her lips. Nervous again. This time for more obvious reasons.

  “I mean, if you want to have dinner. If you’re busy with your case, I understand—”

  I put my hand on her arm. And left it there. The connection was nice. I felt a tremor beneath my fingers. Was she shivering?

  “I’d love to have dinner with you, Hannah. I thought I’d blown it. You know, with being late and showering you with coffee.” I indicated her still-wet pants. “I’d understand if you wanted nothing to do with me.”

  Hannah pulled her purse up onto her shoulder and shrugged. “I need a bit more time to see if you’re worth the effort.”

  I grinned. I liked her forwardness. Her dry sense of humor. Her sarcasm. I hoped she’d prove to be a nice distraction.

  “Well then, I think we need to rectify that as quickly as possible. What about tonight?” I asked.

  She held out her hand and I gave her a questioning look. “Let me have your phone.”

  Without thinking, I handed it to her. It was only after she had entered her phone number that I realized I shouldn’t have done that. It was my work phone. My work emails and correspondence were on there. She could easily have seen them.

  Why hadn’t I thought about that?

  But she simply entered her contact details, including her address, and handed it back to me. I felt a little foolish for jumping to the conclusion that I was dealing with an evil mastermind.

  I looked down at what she had saved on my phone.

  210 Willow Park Lane.

  “Pick me up at eight?”

  It wasn’t so much a question as a request.

  I noted the subtle difference. I appreciated her take-charge attitude, even if some sort of anxiety continued to cling to her like a second skin.

  I leaned in close, mostly because I liked the smell of her. Vanilla and flowers. I hated overpowering perfumes. Hannah’s scent was discreet. Almost hidden.

  Tantalizing. Just like her smile.

  Damn, I was being ridiculous.

  “Eight it is. I can’t wait.” I looked down at the white bag in her hand. “Since it seems your bagel is getting cold, how about I walk you to your car. I don’t want to be responsible for your tardiness.”

  Hannah looked at her watch and cringed. “Too late.”

  “Shit. I’m sorry, Hannah. I feel like an ass.”

  Hannah put her hand on my sleeve and gave me one of those smiles I was coming to enjoy so much. “It’s okay. Just don’t be late tonight. Otherwise I may have to rethink the douche label.”

  I briefly rested my hand over hers. “Deal. Now let me walk you to your car.”

  I put my hand on the small of her back and steered her toward the door. She paused for a moment, looking up at me. “Aren’t you going to order anything? You must need a coffee IV drip with the whole working-since-four-this-morning thing.”

  She was right. I needed caffeine. Desperately. And my stomach was starting to growl. But I wanted to spend a few extra minutes bantering with her first.

  “Don’t worry about me. Coffee will be here once I make sure you get to your car safely,” I assured her.

  Hannah grinned. “And they say chivalry is dead.”

  We walked together out into the too-bright morning sunshine. I wished I had brought my sunglasses. My eyes were having a hard time adjusting today. An occupational hazard from staring at monitors all day.

  I felt Hannah’s body angle into mine, her side brushing against me. “It’s awfully bright out here today,” she complained, shielding her eyes.

  I chuckled. “I was just thinking the same thing. We may be the only two people on the planet who complain about the sun.”

  We reached her car, a tiny, beat-up Mazda Miata. She jingled her keys in her hand for a moment, still standing close to me. “I guess I’m too used to being holed up inside with my head in a computer,” she explained.

  I arched an eyebrow, intrigued again. “Oh yeah? Do you work with computers?”

  “I’m an undercover agent too,” she whispered, bumping her shoulder into my side.

  “Are you making fun of me?” I laughed.

  She licked her lips. Slow. Purposeful. I watched. Transfixed.

  She flicked her hair behind her shoulder and I couldn’t help but stare at the long, graceful slope of her neck. The hint of cleavage beneath her shirt. She shifted on her feet, her slim hips jutting out just slightly.

  Hannah put her hand on my chest, leaning her head back so she could better look into my face. For the first time since I was a teenager, I had butterflies in my stomach.

  I sure as shit didn’t feel this way when Madison took off her clothes.

  It was insanity.

  She was the perfect combination of coy and shy that had always attracted me. She gave off the right amount of interest without being desperate.

  As far as first impressions went, she was ticking all of my boxes.

  And then I paused. The niggling voice wouldn’t stop its incessant paranoia.

  She plays the part almost too well.

  Why was I thinking that?

  It was momentary. A fleeting flash of a thought that I quickly dismissed.

  I had been an agent too long. I saw ulterior motives in everything. Deceit in sincerity.

  I had forgotten what it was like to interact with people without second-guessing and looking for the truth behind their honey-tongued lies.

  I could feel Hannah’s breath on my face. She had sucked on a mint at some point. The sweet smell tickled my nose.

  “I would never make fun of you. I promise.” Her eyes flashed and heated.

  If I had been more of a macho guy, I would hav
e growled.

  She finally turned and opened her car door. “See you tonight, Mason.”

  With that, she climbed in and started her engine. I backed up, giving her room to reverse. I stood there, unable to move until she was long gone.

  I wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened, but I had the sense I had been railroaded in the best way possible. She had deftly maneuvered the exchange and I had been happy to go along with it.

  I blinked as if waking up and headed toward my car, all thoughts of breakfast and coffee now gone.

  Chapter 6

  Hannah

  “I know you can do some really cool shit.”

  Kyle was bugging me.

  Pestering me to the point of making me fantasize about smashing his face into the keyboard.

  I was on an incredible high. I felt a tingling deep in my veins. It was euphoric.

  And Kyle was a freaking buzz kill.

  Last night’s attack had been incredible. Smooth.

  Sleek.

  It had been all over the local news this morning.

  Hell, it had even made some of the national publications.

  The Ryan Law attack wasn’t a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but to me it was revenge nine years in the making.

  “Seriously, Kyle, can we not talk about this right now?” I waved him away, trying not to get annoyed. He was just an eager beaver.

  I should be more understanding. Flattered, even, that he thought I was someone he could learn from.

  Kyle wouldn’t really look at me. My reprimand had clearly stung.

  I should have more patience with him.

  After all, I had been that way once.

  —

  I sat there, my mouth hanging open, hardly able to believe what I was seeing.

  Rose clicked the mouse, opened up a command screen, and typed some stuff that I didn’t entirely understand. The next thing I knew she was in the school’s grading system.

  I thought I was pretty tech savvy. I could build a website, secure firewalls. I knew how to code Java and make pretty little applications that did all sorts of things.

  But this sort of backdoor stuff was all new to me.

  I had no idea that I had been sharing a room with a bona fide hacker.

  “Damn, Whelan, you are flunking,” Rose said, grimacing at the sight of my less-than-stellar grades.