problem was. “It sounds like their security set-up is working exactly the way it’s supposed to. The hacker didn’t get in, right?”
“It didn’t appear that way until yesterday, when the CEO received an email containing copies of several FTX financial documents. The sender is threatening to release the records, as well as emails, investor names, call logs, and all sorts of other sensitive information ascertained from their very own network. As you can imagine, this sort of breach could be quite damaging.”
“So good, old-fashioned blackmail, not a ransomware attack?” I asked. “What are the demands?”
He shook his head. “It’s not ransomware, none of their computers have been locked. And there hasn’t been a demand yet. An hour ago, the hacker sent more documents, at the moment he’s just taunting them with what he has. He’s using a throwaway email account and both threats were sent using unsecured wifi hotspots with no surveillance cameras in range. The design schematics don’t seem to be part of the arsenal though, which suggests this is more about money or morals than the drones themselves.”
I frowned. “There’ll be a demand at some point, nobody hacks a company like that just to play mind games for fun and the press would already know about it if your guy was a whistleblower. What are their IT people saying?”
“Their people can’t seem to find any evidence of an intrusion. They tried to trace the first hack but allegedly came up against dozens of international VPN proxies and dead ends, which led the CEO to wonder whether it was an inside job and one of them is covering. He had his own analyst comb through every employee’s data logs, but again, hit a dead end. No strange correspondence, nothing to suggest the attack was launched from within, and no one opened any malicious attachments or files. But until the situation is resolved, all operations have been suspended and he has surveillance on the tech guys.”
“It doesn’t necessarily have to be an inside job,” I pointed out, “the first attack could’ve embedded malicious script and hidden it so deep in the system that they couldn’t find it. Then again, that attack could be completely unrelated. It’s definitely a tad strange that there’s absolutely no evidence of an actual leak though. How’s the physical security around their server room?” I asked.
“They have video surveillance and key card entry, nothing suspicious there from the outside looking in either. The entrance to the building is also outfitted with a body scanner, all wifi and storage devices have to be left at the door during an employee’s shift.”
Hmm, sounded like just the kind of mystery I enjoyed sinking my teeth into. Was it a good idea though? Could I even do it? I leaned against the wall and weighed the pros and cons. “I don’t know, Silas…”
“There’s fifty thousand dollars with your name on it, Styx, provided you can sniff out the snake.”
“You don’t have anyone else who can take this on?” I asked.
“No one on your level who’s local and I can trust.”
“I’ve been out of the game for a year,” I added. “I didn’t have internet access in Hazelton and haven’t really had a chance to catch up yet.”
“Again, I’m not worried about it, you’re a quick learner.”
I sighed at his relentlessness. “Let me think about it.”
He pulled a burner from his pocket and handed it to me. “Don’t take too long,” he urged.
I gave him a nod and watched as he sauntered off, silently admiring the confidence in his strut. Silas was just one of those people who never seemed the least bit fazed by any obstacle, I’d never heard him raise his voice under even the most stressful circumstances. And he wasn’t particularly handsome or fit—my guess was he was at least fifty—but that intoxicating aura of power made him strangely magnetizing.
Magnetizing enough to draw me back into the game against my better judgment? It was definitely a possibility.
: : : :
Late that night in the home office Torch had set up for me, I found myself so wrapped up in combing through emails and surveillance video that I didn’t even hear him come home until I felt his breath and soft beard on my neck.
“What are you doing?” he whispered in my ear before taking a nibble.
“Working on the liquor license mystery,” I replied, trying my best not to let those wonderfully warm lips distract me. “Fuck, babe… How am I supposed to get anything done with you doing