Chapter 22

Jack wokein the same position as when he"d fallen asleep. Curled around Delia, his hand still in her grip. He held still, listening to make sure he hadn"t jolted and woken her, then slowly retracted his arm. She didn"t stir.

From the lack of light outside the window, he guessed it was probably around five, which was perfect. Jack slowly rolled to his opposite side, sliding an extra pillow behind him to make sure Delia didn"t notice his absence, then grabbed his phone off the nightstand where he"d left it. Five twenty-two. He gave himself a mental pat on the back, then turned off the alarm he"d set for five forty-five.

When he"d texted Tyler the night before, he hadn"t expected a reply. They had a playoff game, and he knew the whole team would be celebrating. Tyler had written back within a couple of minutes. News of the video had spread, and the Snowballs had already been talking about a plan of action. He didn"t know how many guys were going to show up at the bed and breakfast at six, but he"d told Alvin ten just to be sure.

Jack dropped his legs over the side of the bed and stretched, then tiptoed over the old floorboards to the door. He let himself out into the hall, grateful the door hinges had been WD-40"d recently. His stomach grumbled, sending him down the stairs and straight into the kitchen. After flicking on the light, he opened the fridge and took inventory.

His eyes widened at the shelves stacked with eggs, bacon, yogurt, and fruit. Yes, please. When he spotted the English muffins on the counter, his mind was instantly made up. Jack reached in and grabbed a package of bacon and carton of eggs. He had over thirty minutes. Plenty of time to make a hell of a breakfast.

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At six on the dot, Jack"s phone buzzed. He set the mustard and mayonnaise next to the bowl of eggs and plate of cooked bacon, then wiped his hands on a towel. He pulled his phone from his pocket.

Hey, bud. Didn"t want to ring the doorbell

Coming

Jack exited the kitchen and strode to the front door. He flicked on the porchlight and unlocked the deadbolt. As the door swung wide, he found Tyler, Brett, Sean, Country, Ryan, André, Mike, and Curtis on the doorstep. Eight. Not bad.

He stepped out of the way to let them in. "Morning."

They whispered greetings as they removed their shoes and followed the smell of bacon.

"Hell, yes, Harrison." Mike was the first to grab a plate and dish up, but it only took seconds for the rest to follow.

"Wasn"t expecting breakfast." Tyler snagged a toasted English muffin from the cookie tray.

"Maybe you should offer up your services more often." Sean winked.

Jack waited till the rest of the guys moved through the line, then made his own sandwich. They sat around the table in the dining area in the next room where he"d already put out cups and a jug of orange juice. Hopefully Delia and Mary wouldn"t mind that he"d dug into their supplies.

"So. What did you find out?" Jack asked as he took a bite.

Tyler held his hands over the plate, mustard dripping down his pinky. "Whatever dickwad uploaded it used a slew of anonymizing techniques. Multiple VPNs, bouncing through servers across different countries. It"s like chasing a ghost through a maze."

Country chewed and swallowed. "Not an amateur."

Tyler nodded. "Not their first rodeo."

Jack"s chest tightened. Tyler worked in cyber security. There was dressing room lore about how he'd broken into federal security systems and locked down corporate bank accounts. This had to be within reach. "You found them, though, right?"

The corner of Tyler"s mouth curled. "Hell yeah, I found them."

Curtis and Brett leaned over and fist bumped him. Jack breathed a sigh of relief. "Can we give that info to Tony? Maybe?—"

"I doubt Tony"s going to have much luck with his lawyer," Tyler said. "For sure they"ll be able to get it taken down on third-party sites, but the host site"s buried in layers of legal protections designed to shield asshole users."

"Perfect," Jack grunted. He wasn"t surprised. He hadn"t said anything to Delia, but he wasn"t holding his breath to hear good news from Tony. How was a lawyer supposed to get a video down fast enough? After he submitted his paperwork and jumped through whatever hoops he had to, the damage would already be done. "So what do we do?"

Tyler grabbed a napkin and wiped his fingers. "There"s only one option that kills this thing, and it"s not legal."

"I like it already." Mike grabbed the jug of orange juice and unscrewed the lid.

"Probably not a big deal for us, but you, Jack. If you were connected to it?—"

"Whatever, he"d have the Blizzard legal team behind him. We"re the ones who would end up paying a shit-ton of fines for whatever you"re proposing." Brett took the last bite of his sandwich.

"What are you proposing?" Jack asked. He had zero understanding of what it took for Tyler to figure out anything about the video let alone get it pulled down.

"Launch a cyber-attack against the twat. Digital retribution. Flood their network until we either force them to take the video down or render their system inoperable." He leaned back in his chair. "The good news is, if the user decided to nark, they"d have to admit to posting the video. That we could turn over to Tony and his lawyers. Wouldn"t necessarily get it taken down immediately, but it would be good fodder for headlines if we had a name."

"Damn, Bowen." Brett gaped at him. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

They cleared their plates, half of them eating a second sandwich while standing over the counter in the kitchen, then filtered into the living area where Tyler was already setting up. Now the bags and boxes they were carrying made sense. There was a mass of cords snaking across the floor and multiple monitors winking to life on the desk.

"You need this?" Curtis picked up a sleek, black box. Tyler took it from him and plugged it in. "This is a VPN concentrator. It allows us to mask our location. Hopefully better than they did. I've got a burner computer and nobody try to be smart and get on the WiFi here."

Curtis nodded. "So we don"t go to prison."

"Exactly." Tyler stood as light flickered on the box. He picked up a device no larger than a smartphone. "This is a hardware firewall. If they try to trace us or hit us back, this will keep our network secure." He worked to get everything hooked up and running and, after typing in his passwords, he brought up a complex-looking interface on one of the screens.

Curtis grunted. "I think I just had a stroke."

Tyler chuckled. "This is the software that will orchestrate the attack. It"s designed to flood their server with more requests than it can handle. Clogging a pipe until the pressure becomes too much."

Country clapped his hands on André"s shoulders. "Like this guy when he takes a shit at the rink."

André smirked. "I can"t help it if everything about me is too big to handle."

Curtis shook his head. "Too early for dong jokes, André."

Jack leaned in toward the monitor. "I"m a little scared of you right now."

Tyler"s fingers danced over the keys. "This little pissant isn"t going to know what hit him."

"If anyone asks, I wasn"t here. I have a family to think about," Curtis said as he dropped into a wingback armchair.

Sean scoffed. "And we don"t?"

Jack laughed, trying and failing to figure out what the hell Tyler was doing on the screen. Numbers. Codes. All of it moved too fast for him to follow. It was like he was in the middle of a Bond movie watching Q work his magic.

Bond made him think of Delia. He glanced up the stairs and checked that her bedroom door was still closed. He hoped that when she did eventually wake, he"d have good news.

Watching Tyler work made him antsy, so he retreated to the kitchen and started washing dishes and putting things away. Doubts circled in his mind like crows. What if it didn"t work? What if they got caught and the video still didn"t come down? What if the original video came down, but versions of it perpetuated anyway?

He glanced up to find Country walking toward the sink. He grabbed the bacon grease covered baking sheet and the frying pan Jack had used to scramble the eggs. "How are you holding up?"

Jack put a half sheet of foil over the leftover bacon. "Holding."

Country blew out a breath as he squeezed the bottle of dish soap. "Yeah. No kidding. You stay here last night?"

Jack nodded. "I didn"t even ask how the game went."

"Because it"s not important." He turned his head. "But we kicked their asses. Five to one."

"Hell yeah, bud."

Country scrubbed the pan. "You have a game tonight?"

"Yep."

"You going to be able to focus?"

"Doubtful."

Country grinned. "Still think this relationship is fake?"

Jack"s arm jerked, and he nearly dropped the eggs before setting them back on the shelf in the fridge. Country gave him a smug smile when he turned, and Jack reached for the bottle of mustard.

He shoved it into the fridge and closed the door. "This is wrecking her. Even if Tyler gets it down, I don"t know how we can combat the viral shares." Jack still hadn"t opened his social apps, but after talking to the guys last night, it sounded like the video had been reposted on every platform. When it was reported for explicit content and taken down, it was just put up again. A never-ending cycle.

"I do." Country propped the pan in the drying rack. Jack frowned. "Fight fire with fire, bud. You know those photographers camped out on the street? Guess what they want to see more of?"

"Delia."

Country shook his head. "Nope. You. Delia. Both of you. The myth of you." He leaned into the counter. "Plus, in my experience, the internet loves nothing more than a pissed-off hockey player."