Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 122216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
With rapid keystrokes, I enter in a chain of commands. The server’s fan whirs louder as it begins to download massive amounts of data. Breaking in was just the first step. Now I need to get what I came for.
I sit for hours, my fingers moving nonstop as I search and search through their system. Sifting through data, most of it useless, I keep looking for the important documents, the treasure trove I’ve been hired to lift. But I don’t see it. Not yet. Time ticks away, each second one that could end my expedition. If they discover the breach, they’ll go on lockdown, maybe even pull the plug on the internet altogether. Then I’m fucked.
A crick in my neck develops, but I ignore it. I dig through the lower cabinet officials’ emails, then move to the very top. My filters and searches are collecting a vast file for me to inspect, but I’m hoping I can find the one document my client is looking for by a simple, old-fashioned snoop job in Outlook.
I keep looking, examining the government’s servers, including the top secret ones they have ridiculous encryption on. I’m breaking a multitude of US and international laws, but that doesn’t bother me. What will bother me is what happens if I fail.
Swallowing hard, I dive back in, my eyes feeling dry as I continue skimming the data as my server sucks it all up like a vacuum.
Going deeper, I find yet another server, this one connected to the president’s personal home network as well as his government office. This could be it. I delve inside. Ugh. Nudes. It’s all fucking nudes from his many mistresses. I swipe through them, including the videos of the president in some sort of orgy, and keep looking through the folders.
Dejected, I sit back in my chair, my spine popping and my neck finally loosening. I keep flipping file after file, nude after nude. I’m about to give up when a folder catches my eye. Leaning forward again, I click it and rummage through its contents.
“Bingo!” I yell, and Charlie shoots up from his spot on the floor, his fur fluffed up for a fight and his back arched. “Sorry not sorry.” I snag the file, drag it to the encrypted thumb drive on my laptop, and snag the data. With a few more keystrokes, I make sure to copy the entire filthy server to mine. The client may have come for the file on my USB drive, but they’ll probably be pleased to receive all the dirt I’ve collected along with it.
I stand and stretch, relief pouring over me, and call to Charlie, who fled, “I said I was sorry.”
One deep, cleansing breath later, I reach down, engage my retreat code, and burn any evidence that I broke into the system. Covering my tracks is part of the game. I can’t have anyone come looking for me.
I’d kiss the USB drive but it’s probably best not to leave my DNA on it. So, instead, I gently set it inside the small safe beneath my desk, close the door, and turn the dial. With a quick text from a burner phone, I let my contact know that it’s ready for pickup. I could send it over a highly encrypted server, but to leave no real trace, an analog handover is the best.
“Tonight, 8pm, Christmas parade on Main. Stand in front of the barber shop.” The message is there only for a few seconds, then the phone shorts out and goes dead in ‘Mission Impossible’ fashion.
I toss it into the wastebasket and eye the safe one more time. It’s locked. My treasure safely inside. Once the server stops burning my tracks, I attach a bigger hard drive to it and transfer the data so that all my machines are clean. The only dirt is on that thumb drive and the hard drive that I then store inside the safe.
The room finally starts to cool, the server now running quietly, and my screens dark. I feel like a “mischief managed” is in order, but I don’t say it out loud. No need to get too dorky. A shadow outside catches my eye, and my heart sinks. Rushing to the window, I peer out but don’t see anything. Was it a person? Fuck. I pull up one of my monitors and quickly go over my security feed for the rear of my house. Nothing seems amiss except an image glitch at about the same time I thought I saw someone.
I reverse it and watch again. Same glitch. It’s minute, but I see it. Could have been anything, maybe even the change in voltage when my server powered down. But I don’t like it. Pushing the screen away, I close my blinds even tighter above the window unit, then get on my knees and shove the safe into the closet as deep as it can go. I stack some sweaters on top of it, then close the door.