17. SUTTON

Sticking the USB into a device that I stuck into my laptop offered me a little protection. There wasn't a lot I could do but wait for my programs to run and try to pick the lock. Back at the Myriad HQ when I was taken in by Maura, we would train on similar USB drives. They probably had much nicer tech now.

It wasn't even ten minutes after Danya had left when a flurry of messages appeared from my phone.

—Get out.

—Now.

—Sutton. You need to go.

—This is not a drill.

—They're coming.

And before I could respond, the messages deleted themselves.

In a panicked scramble, I pushed myself onto the sofa to look out onto the street below. Two black SUVs pulled to a halt, their tires screeching as they parked in place.

Sucking in a couple deep breaths, this wasn't the first time I'd had to deal with the idea that someone would come and grab me. In fact, it had already happened twice this week. And one of them I'd managed to squeeze my way into a trash chute.

I knew I had a couple of minutes. The elevator here didn't take long.

I already lived out of my bag. I closed my laptop, bundling the USB drive and all the tech I'd been using. There was no time to see the progress I'd made on unlocking the USB, I had to leave.

Under the crunch of knowing the apartment was about to be stormed, but I didn't know who by, I kicked my feet into my sneakers and put a jacket on over my hoodie, my bag over my shoulder, and headed out.

The stairs were an option, as was the elevator. I knew that either one of them could've meant I was about to run into the people on their way to me. I took my chance and got on the elevator. My stomach in knots.

Tugging my bag tight to my chest and squeezing my phone in my hand, I wasn't ready to be ambushed again. And I had nowhere to go.

My phone buzzed.

It was Danya.

—Out. Now.

He must've known. I continued to ride the elevator until it reached a lower floor. I got off. I knew they'd been waiting in the apartment lobby for it. From the third floor of the building, I took the stairs.

A cool wind washed over my face once I was outside, almost like the universe knew of my relief.

I'd been trained at Myriad about what to do next when someone was on my tail. I had to go to a coffee shop, sit in the back, be quiet, tip well, and contact for help. The only issue with that was, there was nobody I could contact for help. In that case, I had to help myself.

There was a small coffee shop nearby that looked busy. I carried out the first couple steps, finding a table in the back, ordering a coffee, paying and tipping all in cash to keep anyone from pulling my card transactions.

Coffee settled my nerves. I opened my laptop and continued to decode the USB. The spot I picked had a direct view of the door, and my back to a wall so nobody could look at what I was doing. That, mixed with the privacy screen I had that meant you could only see my screen if you were looking right at it.

—You evaded them.

A text came through from the unknown number.

I didn't know if they were trying to help or hurt me at this point.

—Find somewhere to lay low. They won't stop looking for you until they have what is theirs.

And suddenly, they'd stopped speaking in riddles.

—That USB isn't what you think.

Perhaps the riddles were back.

—What do you mean? Give me a straight answer. What's going on? I asked.

They deleted all the messages, pushing me out and back to the home screen of my phone.

"Fucker," I grumbled, my eyes back on the door as the bell sounded and a man in a suit walked in, leaning on a cane in his hand.

I tried not to make eye contact with him. He seemed out of place in this hipster hub. Everyone here had a somewhat feral scent about them, a mix of patchouli and a splash of something fruity, it was like LaCroix decided to make deodorant.

Sipping coffee to calm the nerves of seeing the man approach the barista at the counter.

My laptop was running a program to break the keys of the USB. I didn't know how long it would take. These things could take hours, or days depending on how long the passcode was, and because of how old my software was.

"It's ok," I whispered to myself. "It's all ok." Glancing back at the man, he was taking his to-go cup of coffee and leaving. The pulsating throb of my heart had me by the neck.

It was times like this when I hated not having a group around me. Doing all this alone was scary. Usually, I had people around to hype me. It was scary when that hype disappeared, everything came crashing.

As the software continued to run code through the USB, I opened the documents I'd downloaded from Danya's family Wi-Fi network.

There had to be some intel in here. Their system was so easy to get into. And from the looks of it, a lot of people had been in there already. I almost felt bad for them. A family who garnered as much hate and respect as them, they'd have hoped to have some better beefed-up security.

The list of suspects was long, since the list of devices that had connected to their network and some form of banking device had also been strong. There were several ways someone could've gotten their hands on all that money. A keylogger was at the top of the list. And it had to have been on someone Danya logged in on. Either that, or it was someone close to Danya that knew his information.

It hurt my brain to stare at all the information trying to make heads or tails out of it. The money had been transferred into a dummy account under my first name, but that was the thing about dummy accounts, they didn't exist. I couldn't trace where the money went to after that.

Getting to the last of my coffee, I knew I needed to make my move somewhere else. The longer I stayed in a single spot, the easier it was for someone to find me. If I moved around, then there was less chance of being caught, or more chance. The math wasn't mathing in my mind. Statistics, probabilities, numbers, anything with a numerical value turned to mush inside my mind's eye.

I gestured over to the barista. A woman came toward me, stopping at the counter, she smiled. "Can I grab a white chocolate mocha?" I asked. I needed something sweet to help my mind make sense of everything again. "Thank you. Oh, and if you have a bag of chips or something, any flavor. I'm not fussy."

It reminded me of comfort.

* * *

Five Years Ago

Maura had me training on stealth machines. It was all about running code and script to bypass security. If you tripped any part of the code, then you'd get this huge flashing error message in front of your face. And if you bypassed all the security measures, then you'd get rewarded with hot chocolate usually, or something sweet.

I worked beside Star and Lazer. Competing to be the fastest to get through a firewall, plant a bug, and get out undetected.

A single bead of sweat formed on my brow. It was light work, but the air conditioning was on the fritz, so it was hotter in here. And we were also underground, which seemed to make heat stick around.

Lazer snapped his fingers. "Done." He leaned back in his chair, pulling my focus as he cracked his knuckles.

"Done?" Star scoffed. "How? No. I don't believe you."

Maura cleared her throat in the doorway. She held a stopwatch. "Three minutes, fifteen seconds," she said. "You've got to be faster than that. You won't have all this time in the real world. People will be coming down hard on you. There'll be pressure. Heat."

I didn't stop for even a second to wipe my brow. My fingers danced on the keys like it was a piano recital and the audience were gearing to give me a standing ovation. "Done," I said.

"Star," Maura said. "You got distracted, again."

"Can you fix the aircon now?" I asked.

"Get it under two minutes, and we'll see," she said. "Close your programs. And open another file."

Each of us were given a different program to get through. It would've been fair if we all had the same, but Maura taught us that being fair didn't exist in the real world. The sooner we learned that the sooner we'd be better.

* * *

Staring at the white chocolate mocha the barista brought over to me with the bag of sour cream chips, I knew I didn't deserve them. I hadn't done anything to deserve them. I hadn't found a lead, this information was full of leads, and only some of them might've taken me somewhere.

People didn't understand how much their internet network stored their data, not like anyone was rifling through it anytime soon. I got names from the devices they used and checked to those against the information on people who'd visited First Trust Bank, where the family had stored all that money. Unfortunately, it seemed like everyone in that house visited that site.

Criminal organizations and operations needed somewhere to put their cleaned money, something to funnel their legitimate operations through. I found strings of data showing a payroll of sorts, large sums of money being transferred from accounts. It was always around the same time.

The same time stamped on the transaction details.

11:23 A.M.

Every Tuesday money was sent around in what looked like a game of pass the parcel.

When I thought I'd found a lead. A popup appeared as a notification.

The USB passcode had been cracked.

Looking around myself to make sure nobody else saw, I let out a sigh and finally took a drink of the white chocolate mocha. It seemed well deserved now.

On the screen, it was an eight-digit code.

19982905.

A hand grabbed my shoulder.

I turned.

And as I turned back, there was an error message.

‘The device has either stopped responding or has been disconnected'.

It was gone.