Oh my god, Hunter, what did you do to your hair?”
If only Hunter had known what a hot commodity his hair was, maybe he would’ve checked in with people when he changed it. He’d thought he played with it a lot, but he supposed most of his changes had to do with color and specifically not looking totally fashy, but whatever.
“Good to see you, too, Nikki.” He smiled through his screen at his little sister. She was walking between classes, her curls bouncing. In the background, he heard men chanting. “What’s that? Isn’t football season over?”
Nikki sighed. “Just more Nazis on campus. You know how it is.”
“What? I don’t know how it is.” He’d just graduated. Nazis chanting on campus would’ve been a big deal a couple of years ago. “What the fuck?”
Nikki shrugged, the gesture looking weary even on the tiny screen. “It’s a thing. What are you gonna do?” She sounded somewhere between peeved and resigned. As she turned her back to the chanting men, Hunter caught a glimpse of haircuts a lot like his. Then she walked on, letting the image speak for itself.
“Um, well…” Hunter braced himself. He was asking a lot, but hopefully it would all amount to little. There wasn’t anyone else he could trust right now.
If Cal knew what Hunter was doing, Hunter wouldn’t be here. The fact Nikki and the campus were having to deal with these assholes on the daily justified the part Hunter was playing. Even if he only nabbed Chad, it mattered.
“I’m doing something. This isn’t totally a social call.” Hunter peered around. No one was around him in the park, at least not within earshot. He was twenty minutes early for his chat with Chad, which he’d scheduled in a public location.
There were people around, so if he got black hooded and dragged out, surely someone would notice, but there was space enough they could have a conversation. Very cloak and dagger.
Hunter tried to remain calm, but his hands shook. “I’m meeting with Chad in a few and um… Cal doesn’t know. If no one hears from me—”
“Chad?” Nikki’s tone reminded Hunter just how much his little sister worried about him. Her eyes widened, the whites bright. “What are you talking about, Hunter? Why would you be meeting with Chad?”
At least she didn’t ask why he was sneaking around behind Cal’s back; she knew him better than that.
Nikki was the only other person he’d told what had happened. She’d suggested he get therapy, which, given where he was and what he was doing, seemed like a rational suggestion. Late for that.
“I may have something on him, something big. I don’t want you to get in trouble, but if I vanish, tell Cal to investigate Weisser Drache. That’s German for white dragon.” He hated to do this to her, but he was at a loss for how else to get the message to Cal without it being traceable or easily ignored.
“Weisser Drache?” Nikki echoed, sounding disbelieving. She stared at Hunter, her eyes boring into him through the phone screen. “Hunter, if you get yourself killed, I’m going to kick your ass.” Then she sighed, expression pinched before she huffed and muttered, “Yeah, I’ll tell Cal. Call me after school, or I’m telling him.”
“I’ll leave a message or something. It’s probably nothing, just another stupid rich boy Nazi club, but…” Hunter tried to remind himself that Chad was a rapist. That was hardly a lightweight crime. He looked intently into the screen. “We know what kind of guy Chad is. But I’m in a public park, so someone will see something if I get dragged off.”
He flipped the video screen to show the park. He’d normally be less open about his location, but he’d coded his own secure app to talk to Nikki. He’d be worried about being traced through the carrier or the phone itself, but honestly, that was the sort of thing the feds had to come to Hunter for, and he wasn’t going to narc on himself. “Love you, smarty-pants. Knock ‘em dead in class.”
He paused. She was pre-med, so maybe that was the wrong cliché. “Or alive. Whatever.”
Nikki rolled her eyes, but it was affectionate. “Okay, dumbass.”
Her crooked little smile gave Hunter the feeling she simultaneously thought he was making a mistake and supported him entirely. Little sisters were good for that. “Call me later anyway. I’m gonna hold this over your head if you don’t.” She raised a brow to drive home the threat and then made a kissy face at him. “Love you too.”
“You’re just trying to cut into my masturbation time.” He smirked with a confidence he didn’t quite feel. “I’ll hit you up. Be good, or at least pretend.”
He closed the app so she couldn’t tell him to call more. He knew she was teasing—she didn’t want him all up in her business—but he probably just alarmed the fuck out of her, so he should at least try to chat when he got home. He didn’t want her to get any more involved. The dudes he was dealing with didn’t see her as fully human.
She’d probably put two and two together with his haircut anyway. She was too clever for her own good sometimes, a fact he knew painfully well.
Sitting back, Hunter watched the park, zoning out until Chad showed up. As Hunter looked on, Chad parked his impossibly dickish Hummer while tracksuited people jogged by. Honestly, he was like a perfect cardboard cutout of a privileged doofus who felt oppressed by equity.
One of those guys who halfheartedly studied, got Ds so he didn’t have to take the class again, and received positions based on their family name. Who started on third base but thought he hit a home run when he got a job.
Wouldn’t it be funny if the biggest issue going on for these guys was imposter syndrome? What if, deep down, they knew their mediocrity? What if their racism was a protective reaction against self-improvement?
Whatever. Those thoughts were too deep for an encounter with Chad.
Hunter stretched out on the bench, manspreading as Chad headed his way. “Hey, asshole.”
Chad narrowed his eyes and produced a thin smile. “Dickmeat,” he said by way of return greeting. He tilted his head to the side appraisingly, looking Hunter over, and then said, “You sure you want to talk here?”
He motioned around them at the open space, sparsely populated with joggers and bicyclists, people walking their dogs. Far across the park, a group played frisbee. As secure as the presence of so many probably-decent bystanders made Hunter, it probably upset Chad. Then again, Chad was so cocky, he’d go with it if Hunter implied Chad was nervous.
“What, you gonna start yelling Heil Hitler or something?” Hunter smirked, brow up in a way that he knew challenged those big manly men and would probably work on Chad. “It’s fine, dude. Those people are probably more wary of us than we are of them. Or are you scared?”
“What? No. Don’t be a chode.” Chad scowled and ran his hand through his hair, betraying his stress. “This is fine. Just, you know, wanted to be sure before I started in.”
Chad took a seat and exhaled as if bracing for the conversation. He leaned back against the bench and studied Hunter before saying, “I’ve been thinking about what to do with you. You have a lot of potential. We could use you. But we’ve gotta make sure you appreciate the magnitude of our mission.”
Good. They weren’t moving. When it came to tradecraft, Hunter had read a few John le Carré novels, so he considered himself kind of an expert. But he wasn’t sure how to secure the area, other than walking around looking for Nazis in the bushes like he had earlier in the day. Were they to jump the curb and grab him, he wasn’t sure what he’d do, but honestly, Chad couldn’t possibly be that bigtime.
“What, like some sort of gang initiation? Need me to shoot a homeless person or something? I’m packin’.”
He wasn’t, but whatever.
“Right.” Chad gave Hunter a skeptical look. “We don’t operate like a gang.” He sounded disgusted with the very idea, like that wasn’t something white supremacists would do. Like they weren’t every bit a gang, just as much as any of the ones they hated and blamed for ruining society. “But I do have a task for you to complete before we welcome you to our inner circle.”
Sounded like an initiation, but what the hell.
“All right, but I warn you, if it’s a riddle, I fuckin’ hate that shit.” Hunter sat up, paying attention. He wasn’t sure what Chad would want from him. He didn’t appear armed, but who knew what those cargo shorts contained?
With an air of mystery, Chad reached into the bottom pocket of his shorts and withdrew not a gun but a thumb drive. He held it in his palm and extended his hand to Hunter as if to shake, like that would keep anyone from noticing a hand-off. “I’d like you to look into some names for me. Do what you do. Get back to me; let me know what you find out.”
Hunter shook Chad’s clammy hand, relieved he wasn’t making it creepy. At least, not yet. “What, like doxing? These targets?”
He wasn’t sure what he’d do with a list of targets. Probably straight take it to Cal. He’d fail the test, but whatever. If people were in trouble, he wasn’t going to just let that go. Besides, he’d have Chad nailed on something if he was the one holding a list of people who were going to receive harassment or death threats.
“No, nothing like that.” Chad’s scuzzbucket smile wasn’t the least bit reassuring. “I have reason to believe some of these names are of FBI agents. I need you to tell me which ones. Let me know if we’ve been infiltrated.” He narrowed his gaze, scrutinizing Hunter as if for weakness. Then he extended his arm across the back of the bench, dragging Hunter into an unwelcome sideways hug. “If you’re going to be in with the in crowd, you have to prove your usefulness. And your loyalty.”
“Oh, so hack the FBI. Sure.” Hunter rolled his eyes. It wasn’t a big deal—Hunter had the advantage of access—but honestly, there was a long list of hackers who got into personnel files. Again, the FBI’s hierarchy bit itself on the ass when it came to hacking. They had some good people, like Sam, but this administration was doing its damnedest to drum out diversity, leaving them with huge security gaps via straight white cis guys who all pretty much agreed with each other and missed the giant flaws in their systems.
But whatever. Hunter wasn’t going to say all of that. He had to make this sound like a big deal. He’d have to evaluate the risk.
Hunter fingered the disk, thinking as he slid it into his pocket. “Could take some time. How long?”
Chad smirked. “You have a week. After a week, I have to rep—” He paused, as if he’d been about to say something to give himself away. Then, smirk faltering, he corrected, “I’ll be assessing who’s involved in our big mission. You need to be cleared by then.”
Hunter let out a big sigh as if that was going to be a tough turnaround. “All right. I’ll see what I can do. The FBI is a tough nut to crack, as you probably know.”
Interesting that Chad was not the top of this hill, not that Hunter had believed that he was. He’d been talking to that dapper fucking Nazi. Why didn’t Chad dress better? He certainly had the money.
Maybe he was also dressing his part for now.
Or he was just a lazy fuck.
“All right. Then I’ll call you, I guess. Let you know if I just can’t. I get it if you gotta move on.” Hunter tapped his phone through his shorts. He’d moved on from burner phones to burner profiles and apps so he could maintain other identities as needed. There was risk. If someone like him got hold of his phone, he’d be busted.
It was probably a cocky move to keep that all going, but he didn’t think Chad was much of a threat, nor did he likely have access to another Hunter. If he had a pocket hacker, he’d already know Hunter’s proximity to Cal.
Unless…
Hunter narrowed his eyes briefly at Chad, taking in his posture anew. Someone higher up might know who Hunter was with. He’d have to be very careful with this thumb drive. Chad didn’t indicate he knew anything, so Hunter just flashed a quick smile. “Cool?”
“Yeah, man, I’ll expect to hear from you in a week, or sooner. You always talked a big game. What’s changed? You reformed or something?” Chad looked suspicious too, like he was trying to get into Hunter’s head.
Hunter rolled his eyes. “Nah. Just more eyes on cybercrime and shit since all the Russia crap. I’m not gonna do you any good if I’m caught up in some big net, right? So, I’ve gotta do it right, and doing it right can take time.”
He raised a brow at Chad again, letting the danger of the job he’d given Hunter sink in, if anything could penetrate that thick skull.
“Don’t you have an FBI contact? I’m sure if you got stuck, you could talk to him.” Chad’s scuzzbucket smile turned faintly malicious, and his arm tightened around Hunter’s shoulders. “Shouldn’t be any reason you can’t complete this mission.”
“Um. What makes you think that?” Hunter furrowed his brows. Had he not been careful? Probably not careful enough, but still, he needed to know if he was under surveillance. That would change everything.
Nikki wasn’t the only one who would kill Hunter if he got murdered.
“Your big angry boyfriend who broke up our little party that night. He flashed his badge at me, some kind of powerplay I guess.” Chad narrowed his gaze, that unpleasant smile intensifying, as if he enjoyed having caught Hunter unaware.
Shit. Hunter was so in and out that night that he hadn’t realized Cal had flashed his badge. Fucking Cal. Still, whatever he did to get it done, he’d rescued Hunter. A small price to pay for this momentary glitch.
“Yeah, well, not my boyfriend. I got caught. They made me do some work, had me watched a while. It sucked. I don’t want to get caught again, so sorry if I seem a little more paranoid this round.”
Hunter sulked as if he’d just admitted something humiliating. Hopefully that would work.
Damnit. He’d only been pushing the line that it might take a while to seem realistic. Now he was caught in another lie, kind of.
Judging by Chad’s softened expression, Hunter was in the clear.
“Yeah, I heard they do that to hackers. Force them to work for them. Harass them. It’s wrong. No upstanding white man should be treated that way by his own government.” Chad scowled as if disgusted with a system that would do such a thing. “Guess I can see why you’d be gun-shy. But look, just do your best. We need those names vetted. You’d be helping the cause. Think of it as a passion project.”
“Yeah, man. Trust and believe that I won’t mind a little vengeance, I just…” Hunter nodded and rolled his wrist as if finishing the thought without saying it. He chuckled. “Man, you must’ve been worried the Fed was gonna come down on you that night.”
He took a savage pleasure in at least causing that much fear and disruption in Chad’s life. “Anyway, I’ll get back to you. Soon, yeah?”
“Yeah, soon. I’ll look forward to hearing from you.” Chad’s expression and tone were pinched, driving home for Hunter just how worried he’d been. He stood, arm pulling away from Hunter’s shoulders at last, so Hunter’s skin could finally stop crawling. Looking down at Hunter, he said, “I’m glad we cleared that up. When no one came after me… I kind of thought maybe… Good to know.”
Hunter paused, genuinely curious but also aware it was as likely Hunter was walking into a trap as setting one. “Yeah? What did you think?”
“I dunno. Things got bad for me about then. The whole fucking message board of lies, twisting the truth, trying to make me into some….” Chad trailed off, face contorted with lingering rage. Both hands fisted at his sides. “But if you’d wanted your FBI guy to come after me, he would’ve. So, I guess you’re cool, Hunter.”
Chad lifted his chin in a nod of acknowledgment and then took off across the park before Hunter could respond.
Hunter kicked around the park for a little while. He’d watched Chad leave in his Hummer, but his mind was abuzz with those parting words. Hunter didn’t feel the least bit bad that Chad was angry, but Hunter worried he may have led Chad down a path to discover his involvement in the chat boards.
Setting up boards in and of itself wasn’t something it took an elite hacker to do, but doing it as anonymously as he had, moving the boards when there were legal or technical challenges made to them… That was all a lot less subtle if Chad had any wits.
Not that Hunter had done everything the board needed. There were women more than capable of such feats, and several affected by Chad had stepped up, but Chad might not see women as capable. If he suspected Hunter could be involved, that might seem a more plausible explanation to that misogynist.
Fuck.
Hunter was banking a lot on Chad being too stupid to realize Hunter had friends in the FBI, and now Hunter was really pushing it. As much as he wanted to tell Cal, Hunter wasn’t sure he had enough for Cal to do anything about Weisse Drache. As it was, Cal sounded more and more desperate to rationalize his continued involvement in the Bureau. Unless this list was full of legit undercover agents, Hunter really had nothing but Chad’s suggestion he hack the FBI.
Conspiracy, yes, but it would be Hunter’s word versus Chad’s. Hunter wasn’t sure he liked his chances as a queer delinquent against a Nazi who abused women. Just a few years ago… Well, it still would’ve been a huge doubt.
Plus, Chad let slip that he wasn’t the top of the food chain. How big was Weisse Drache? Had that whole huge meeting been for a single group? Hunter had assumed multiple smaller groups were gathering under a single umbrella, but…
And what was their plan with handguns? If Hunter took what he had to Cal now—while it would be satisfying to nail Chad non-sexually—he might miss something bigger. Lives could be lost. Cavalier as Hunter could be, that was too much for him.
♦ ♦ ♦
After leaving a message warning Nikki that Hunter was working on something that evening, Hunter headed into his home office. While the second bedroom held Cal’s office, Hunter had claimed that room’s walk-in closet to provide a smaller but more secure space for him to work within. It was outfitted to Hunter’s specifications, tricked out with a massive monitor hanging from the back wall where he’d group UI windows as he needed them. From what had been a luxurious closet, Hunter had torn nearly all the shelving and replaced some of the storage area with secure, fireproof, steel lockboxes to hold Hunter’s toxic devices and dangerous apps, as well as replacement parts should he need to burn his current set up and start over.
His not-so-humble collection might sell for billions on the black market, but it would make the world a more perilous place, like when the code and plan for Stuxnet got out—and not just to the public but to hazardous enemies. What had once been a very modest plan to fuck up Iranian centrifuges and delay their nuclear dreams had grown into an ongoing cyber cold war.
If Cal knew some of this stuff… Well, Hunter wasn’t sure what Cal would say or do. Before, he probably would’ve seen it as something to turn into the FBI, but these days, who his bosses might hand it over to was called into question. Cal still believed in the system, but every week it seemed like a new presidential tweet eroded more of Cal’s faith that the FBI could ever again be what it once was.
Which made Hunter’s revenge scheme seem pettier. What was he putting at risk? Not that anyone could get into his vaults. Or knew what he’d been putting together. Right? Not even Cal knew. Top secret.
Hunter pulled the thumb drive from his pocket and eyed it as if it were contaminated.
It probably was.
People used such drives every day without a thought about where the cheap parts came from or what could be on them. Most people didn’t need to worry about it. Hackers weren’t after most spreadsheets or Power Point presentations. But the right ones were invaluable.
Hunter had done a purge when he started this project, but he wasn’t going to risk his main system, even if nothing worthwhile was on it yet. Identifying information and perhaps scraps of code might remain to ID Hunter. That he’d missed Chad’s knowledge of Cal spooked him. He needed to be even more cautious than usual.
He pulled out a used laptop he’d bought from Ebay, one of a collection on hand for these situations. He’d bleached the system thoroughly, but any remnants would point to the original owner. Hunter pulled the wireless card to avoid any accidental hookups and then plugged in the thumb drive.
Some tough software Hunter had installed on the laptop automatically scanned the drive and identified a hidden keylogger and other spyware trying to load. The programs tried to connect to the internet, presumably to show the drive’s originator how Hunter hacked the FBI.
“Tsk, tsk,” Hunter said under his breath as he shook his finger at the screen. The webcam blinked, engaged, but it couldn’t broadcast. No one witnessed Hunter’s chastisement of whomever prepared the thumb drive.
One thing was certain: This was far too clever to be Chad’s work.
Whoever pulled the strings was either testing Hunter’s skills or marking him expendable. Probably both. There was little disadvantage if they thought Hunter would still go through with the hack.
It could also be a double-cross.
Hunter checked the code, looking for tell-tale signs of origin. Could it be FBI? After long minutes’ study, Hunter discovered evidence some of the code came from the big NSA hack.
Well, they liked to call it a hack, but they’d pretty much uploaded their scripts to a remote server they hadn’t properly hardened. The code had practically been left out in the open.
Whatever.
The code sign offs within looked to be Czech, which was interesting, but it probably just meant someone bought it off the dark web. So, Hunter wasn’t dealing with another hacker, just someone who knew where to acquire what they needed.
None of that made him feel better about getting involved. Perhaps he should’ve just called Barnes and engaged in an actual job. This shit was likely to put Hunter’s life at risk.
Then again, working for Barnes, he’d probably be defending Nazis or helping deport people, and frankly, he’d rather die.
After a few minutes of deliberation, Hunter finally opened the target file. Macros were shut off, so he had no fear.
There were twenty-five names on the list.
Balancing the laptop on his built-in desk, Hunter sat at his own computer. If he went too deep, he’d have to burn it all again after this.
Getting in was easy. Chad was right in that Hunter had access—stolen credentials, actually—which was better than brute-forcing his way in. Might be bad for FBI analyst Mr. Rod Harris if this was a honeypot, but Rod had been such a dick to Sam. He’d kind of earned the risk.
Fuck your transphobia, Rod.
As Hunter had suspected, three of the names were on the FBI payroll, all run-of-the-mill analysts. He hadn’t needed deep security to access their files; they were simply part of the Seattle FBI intranet. Basically, anyone with regular access could’ve gotten their names.
It was possible these analysts were Nazis—after all, law enforcement had been penetrated on multiple levels. Hunter doubted reporting on them would expose anyone’s deep cover. This was a dead end, probably just a test. He didn’t need to bust into the FBI to find these people; he could’ve located them on Linked In.
So, a test and a phish.
At least he wouldn’t have to start over with his computer.
Hunter logged out and then plucked a new thumb drive from a drawer to prepare a response file, complete with its own malware. Two could play that game.