12 - The cyber chick
Washington DC – noon Monday
Welcome to my online cyber thriller, The Phisherman. To learn more about the story and meet the three main characters, click HERE. If you'd prefer to start at Chapter 1, click HERE. To select another chapter, click HERE.
Forty-five minutes later, Nick received the expected call from Garry, the section chief overseeing Project 831.
‘You need to be in my office now, Nick.’
Nick confidently made his way to Garry’s plush, expansive suite. He knew what would happen. After his sleight of hand in Dave’s office, Nick was counting on it.
He was also intrigued by how mild-mannered Garry would handle disciplining him, especially as Garry openly admired Nick for his field experience.
Nick found out soon enough.
Until then, Garry had always been easy to chat with. Laughter had filled every previous conversation. Yet, unlike every other time Nick had been in Garry’s office, their one-way discussion was brief. Standing behind his large desk, the usually affable Garry was cold and abrupt.
‘Take a seat, Nick.’
As Nick sat in the closest padded chair for visitors, Garry took a deep breath.
Then staring at Nick through dark hooded eyes, he emitted a long, loud sigh before slowly continuing with a sad tone.
‘I’m so disappointed. You know, I was so excited when you joined us, Nick. I thought to myself, “Here’s a real man – a man’s man – someone who will inspire my team to believe that what they’re doing matters because it helps people like Nick Davies save the world.” You came here with a reputation my programmers could only achieve in their wildest dreams.’
‘And as you’ve worked alongside them over the last few weeks, I’ve seen the positive influence you’ve had on them, Nick, just in that short time. They walk in with their backs straighter and their shoulders squarer. Even their code is tighter. And from the more assertive way they interact, they’ve become a better team with you here, Nick. I was so grateful to have you as one of us, even if it was just for a short time.’
‘And then …’
Garry sighed deeply before shifting his tone to muffled anger.
‘And then you pissed all over it. You pissed over all of us, Nick. Instead of motivating my team to be more like you, you turned out to be the weakest link. Everyone will be devastated when they hear how you’ve betrayed them. And for something so cheap.’
Nick stared down at the light gray carpet. He would usually react violently to someone talking to him like that. He always gave back better than he received.
Yet, Nick had learned to respect Garry.
Like Nick, he was an orphan.
Unlike Nick, Garry had been raised as a ward of the state. Nick had grown to admire Garry from the glimpses of a brutal childhood the older man revealed over their regular post-work beers.
And Garry had given Nick a respect he’d seldom received from his superiors. Garry had been a great boss.
Much better than Casey the Bitch.1
Garry had only ever been a quiet-spoken person around Nick – it was odd hearing his raised voice, especially filled with the sound of sadness. Nick struggled to look Garry in the eye. It was a sensation he could not remember experiencing.
Maybe long ago, before those religious ravers2 burned my world down.
After a long pause, Garry sat down.
He sighed as he picked up a single sheet of paper.
Flicking it across the desk to Nick, he unhappily said, ‘Understandably, you’ve been stood down with pay, effective immediately. You need to sign this, acknowledging that you understand your current situation. The Agency will notify you in a few days when they’re ready for you to attend a hearing. Until then, you’re your own man. Just don’t do anything stupid, Nick.’
Garry’s final sentence was filled with anguish as he said, ‘Well, nothing else, though it’s pretty hard to beat what you’ve done.’
Wordlessly, Nick signed the paper and exited Garry’s office, struggling to accept the rapid series of events that had exploded across his life.
I’m the one who fixes problems - I don’t cause them.
Nick decided it was best to head home. He needed somewhere to block out all extraneous noise so he could determine the next step.
Thankfully, Lucy3 had a shift at the local café where she worked. Nick loved her but needed time to consider his options without her light-hearted chatter clamoring for his attention.
And I could not think with her blasting her crappy techno dance music through the house like she always does.
Grabbing a single malt scotch and dry – with more scotch than dry – he harshly shoved Willow4 out of his favorite leather armchair. Extending the recliner, he gazed over the Potomac River, trying to enjoy the serenity as he pondered what to do.
After a few large sips, Nick knew he needed to do something.
There’s no way I’m passively waiting ‘til Langley figure out what to do. After all I’ve learned and achieved over the last decade, I know I’m the best at finding bad guys and eliminating them.
And I know my hacker is a bad guy.
Once Nick got his hands on the sneaky geek, he could retrieve the 831 documents and ensure justice was delivered – that would be the fun part.
Well, it will be fun for me. I’m sure my hacker will find it to be an experience he’ll want to forget. But I’ll make sure he never can.
However, he had to catch the hacker first. And therein lay his immediate problem.
Nick was out of his depth in the cyber world. He needed someone skilled enough to help him find his elusive hacker.
Of course, Agency cyber-specialists are off the table. They’ll be alert to my status before the day’s out.
Nick was sure the Agency would put a positive spin on his leave. They wouldn’t want everyone to know about 831. However, there would be no help from within. He needed to recruit someone outside the Agency.
He thought of the ideal ally within a minute: Alison Simpson.
That unforgettably hot cyber chick from GCHQ who helped my team a couple of years ago on Operation Venga.
That particular assignment had been intensely personal to Nick. He, Jaime and two other SAC members had worked their way inside an ISIS stronghold to liberate a highly-valued prisoner. The Agency called it Operation Venga because of the asset’s call sign – his hacking moniker was Vengador.
What made it meaningful to me was that Vengador provided the intel that led to SEAL Team 6 killing bin Laden in 2011.5 And bin Laden was the SOB responsible for my parent’s death.
They only found Vengador after the NSA brought Alison Simpson in because they couldn’t break the encryption ISIS was using to secure their communications. It took her a few days, but she did it.
She never told us how, though that didn’t matter. All I cared about was locating the ISIS prison and liberating Vengador.
Subsequently, his team had rescued the prisoner to whom Nick was forever indebted.
He knew Alison had aided the US on other projects since then. However, they were few and far between.
It’s unlikely she’ll be aware of my current status. And because she knows I work in covert ops, she’ll accept my explanation that my task is top-secret. She will be perfect.
Thankfully, he’d kept her contact details from Operation Venga, though for other reasons.
She’s the best-looking woman I’ve worked with.
He loved her long dark hair, sparkling brown eyes, and flawless olive complexion. And the thought of her toned hourglass figure affected him in many ways. He was keen to spend time with her in a social setting.
Who knows? Maybe this is an opportunity to get my hands on more than that hacker.
And maybe I can use a lot more than just my hands.
Grateful the techies hadn’t blocked his Agency email access, he sent Alison an encrypted email carefully worded to arouse her curiosity. He knew it was risky if Dave and the Tech Support team were actively monitoring his email. However, that was unlikely.
Besides, I don’t have many options. And using my Agency email account will convince Alison my hunt is official.
It was one in the afternoon in DC. That meant it was six pm in London.
Hopefully, she’ll get back to me today.
I’m sure she’ll be intrigued to see the hacked document on the thumb drive I stole from Dave’s office.
Thanks for reading my online serial. I hope you enjoyed this chapter enough to click the heart-shaped LIKE button below. Hopefully, you also spotted an important link to someone mentioned in a much earlier chapter (btw, I won’t be helping you like this again). And if you have any suggestions to help make it better or you simply want to encourage me as a storyteller (either would be appreciated), please leave a comment.If you can’t remember Nick’s previous boss (or just want to remind yourself of her colorful character), maybe re-read the first section of chapter 6
This does not mean the people who killed Nick’s parents attended lots of rave parties. Raver is meant in the traditional meaning i.e. someone who talks irrationally in or as if in delirium.
As described in chapter 4, Willow is Lucy’s gray & white Persian cat. Willow also loves climbing into Nick’s lap & giving him a hug as she senses that Nick detests cats & loves dogs, especially big dogs … because they hates cats too.