Exploited
Page 2
I had been up too late last night. I should have gone to bed before midnight. Big days required early nights. But as always, I’d gotten sucked into things. It was easy to do when you were on a crusade.
I glanced at the time on my phone. 8:02.
I had some time before I needed to leave.
And there were things more important than my job. More important than my reason for wearing lip gloss.
With a familiar giddiness, I logged on to my computer. I entered a long, convoluted series of numbers and letters that no one would ever be able to figure out. I was paranoid about passwords. I had learned to be.
Once on my home screen I fired up my IRC client.
I found the channel I needed.
No one else would have been able to find it. Mostly because they weren’t looking for it.
It was amazing how easy it was to hide in plain sight.
8:03 <T0x1cwrath> Are you ready?
My stomach clenched and I quickly typed out a response.
8:03 <Freed0m0v3rdr1v3> 2100. All set.
I waited. And waited.
A thrill went through my veins. My fingers tingled as I stared at the screen.
8:05 <T0x1cwrath> 2100. Downtime should last at least fifteen minutes. Backup servers compromised.
My mouth was dry as my fingers flew along the keyboard.
8:06 <Freed0m0v3rdr1v3> DDoS will be swift. Setup in place.
There was no response.
***T0x1cwrath has quit IRC***
I logged off and closed my laptop. I loved this feeling—the before.
Anticipation.
My heart fluttered and my palms were sweaty.
It was the biggest high without the crash landing. I would never get sick of it.
I looked at the time. 8:30. I lost time so easily. If I didn’t leave now, all of the lip gloss and hair brushing would be wasted.
I thought briefly about tonight. About all the things I had planned. I hated having to leave the house, go to work, talk to people I didn’t care about.
I wanted to log back in to my computer and slip inside another world, where I was the most terrifying, amazing thing there was.
It was my addiction.
Power. Anonymity.
The relentless chase.
But it was another day. An important one for a lot of reasons.
I grabbed my keys and left the kingdom where I ruled.
And I became a new Hannah.
—
I lingered in my car for almost twenty minutes outside Nan’s Coffee Shop. My leg was cramping up and it was uncomfortably warm, but I waited until I saw a monstrous dark blue Lincoln Continental, circa 1987, pull into the parking lot. The driver circled for a few minutes, trying to find a place to fit the giant boat of a car.
It sat low to the ground and reminded me of something a drug dealer would drive. I half expected to hear pounding bass and see puddle lighting on the underside.
It finally parked. Beside me.
My mouth went suddenly dry and my heart sped up. I absently smoothed my hair again and watched the man driving the druggie deluxe get out of the car.
“Damn,” I murmured to myself.
Close-cut blond hair. Strong, chiseled jaw. Broad shoulders. And tall. So tall I’d have to crane my neck to look at him.
He was not the sort of man you expected to drive a lowrider. I instantly respected that about him.
I licked my lips and felt the fluttering in my gut.
There it was again.
Anticipation.
I checked the time on my phone. I had to be at work in twenty-five minutes. That meant I had exactly fifteen minutes to convince Mr. Strong Jaw in the drug dealer car to buy me a coffee and become completely enchanted with my sweet smile and perfectly smooth hair.
I went inside the tiny coffee shop and got in line.
Right behind him.
He was on his phone. He spoke low. Not rudely loud like a lot of people. He didn’t want the entire world to hear his conversation. I was glad to see he wasn’t a raging douchebag.
And he had a nice ass.
Not overly round. Firm. Like he worked out.
There were certain things that were important when contemplating future flirtations with a potential romantic interest. Nice ass and an appropriate phone voice were important.
I had been noticing him for weeks, since he walked in one day during my coffee and bagel.
He filled the space. His presence took over.
He gave me something else to fixate on.
Now here I was. Here he was.
Here we were.
It was now or never.
I reached into my purse and pulled out my wallet. I was fumbling. My fingers didn’t seem to be working properly. I yanked on my wallet in an exaggerated gesture that ended with the contents spilling onto the floor. Change rolled across the tiles.
“Damn it!” I hissed, ducking my head as I knelt down on the floor to start the task of gathering my stuff.
I wasn’t embarrassed. I was nervous.
“Here, let me help you.” He crouched down beside me and started picking up my loose change and a pile of loose papers, including a ticket stub.
“The Dandy Warhols. Nice. I saw them live a few years ago.” He handed it back to me, his full-toothed smile on prominent display. He was good-looking. That was an easy thing to say. But there was something else about him that intrigued me. That had me crouched on the floor, staring up at him like an idiot.
I took the ticket stub and stuffed it back in my purse.
“Yeah, they’re one of my favorites.” I smiled. He smiled.
His brown eyes widened ever so slightly. His cheeks flushed. Just a little. He swallowed. Maybe his mouth was as dry as mine.
Maybe all the primping had paid off.
“Hi,” he said, his mouth curving upward in a slight half smile. Slightly coy. Slightly flirtatious.
“Hi,” I responded, just as flirtatious. Just as coy. Or at least I hoped so.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” he commented, picking up my tube of lip gloss and holding it between his fingers. Not relinquishing it. Holding on to it until he was ready.
I felt a momentary twinge at his words. He hadn’t noticed me.
Of course he hadn’t.
I made it my mission to fly below the radar.
But it bothered me in this instance that I hadn’t gotten his attention.
“What a line.” I smirked, holding my hand out until he finally gave me the lip gloss. Our fingers brushed.
He flushed, his face turning red. I found it endearing how easily I could embarrass him. I wasn’t the only bumbling fool in this meeting.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I was just trying—I mean, I only wanted to say—”
I glanced at the time on my phone. 8:02.
I had some time before I needed to leave.
And there were things more important than my job. More important than my reason for wearing lip gloss.
With a familiar giddiness, I logged on to my computer. I entered a long, convoluted series of numbers and letters that no one would ever be able to figure out. I was paranoid about passwords. I had learned to be.
Once on my home screen I fired up my IRC client.
I found the channel I needed.
No one else would have been able to find it. Mostly because they weren’t looking for it.
It was amazing how easy it was to hide in plain sight.
8:03 <T0x1cwrath> Are you ready?
My stomach clenched and I quickly typed out a response.
8:03 <Freed0m0v3rdr1v3> 2100. All set.
I waited. And waited.
A thrill went through my veins. My fingers tingled as I stared at the screen.
8:05 <T0x1cwrath> 2100. Downtime should last at least fifteen minutes. Backup servers compromised.
My mouth was dry as my fingers flew along the keyboard.
8:06 <Freed0m0v3rdr1v3> DDoS will be swift. Setup in place.
There was no response.
***T0x1cwrath has quit IRC***
I logged off and closed my laptop. I loved this feeling—the before.
Anticipation.
My heart fluttered and my palms were sweaty.
It was the biggest high without the crash landing. I would never get sick of it.
I looked at the time. 8:30. I lost time so easily. If I didn’t leave now, all of the lip gloss and hair brushing would be wasted.
I thought briefly about tonight. About all the things I had planned. I hated having to leave the house, go to work, talk to people I didn’t care about.
I wanted to log back in to my computer and slip inside another world, where I was the most terrifying, amazing thing there was.
It was my addiction.
Power. Anonymity.
The relentless chase.
But it was another day. An important one for a lot of reasons.
I grabbed my keys and left the kingdom where I ruled.
And I became a new Hannah.
—
I lingered in my car for almost twenty minutes outside Nan’s Coffee Shop. My leg was cramping up and it was uncomfortably warm, but I waited until I saw a monstrous dark blue Lincoln Continental, circa 1987, pull into the parking lot. The driver circled for a few minutes, trying to find a place to fit the giant boat of a car.
It sat low to the ground and reminded me of something a drug dealer would drive. I half expected to hear pounding bass and see puddle lighting on the underside.
It finally parked. Beside me.
My mouth went suddenly dry and my heart sped up. I absently smoothed my hair again and watched the man driving the druggie deluxe get out of the car.
“Damn,” I murmured to myself.
Close-cut blond hair. Strong, chiseled jaw. Broad shoulders. And tall. So tall I’d have to crane my neck to look at him.
He was not the sort of man you expected to drive a lowrider. I instantly respected that about him.
I licked my lips and felt the fluttering in my gut.
There it was again.
Anticipation.
I checked the time on my phone. I had to be at work in twenty-five minutes. That meant I had exactly fifteen minutes to convince Mr. Strong Jaw in the drug dealer car to buy me a coffee and become completely enchanted with my sweet smile and perfectly smooth hair.
I went inside the tiny coffee shop and got in line.
Right behind him.
He was on his phone. He spoke low. Not rudely loud like a lot of people. He didn’t want the entire world to hear his conversation. I was glad to see he wasn’t a raging douchebag.
And he had a nice ass.
Not overly round. Firm. Like he worked out.
There were certain things that were important when contemplating future flirtations with a potential romantic interest. Nice ass and an appropriate phone voice were important.
I had been noticing him for weeks, since he walked in one day during my coffee and bagel.
He filled the space. His presence took over.
He gave me something else to fixate on.
Now here I was. Here he was.
Here we were.
It was now or never.
I reached into my purse and pulled out my wallet. I was fumbling. My fingers didn’t seem to be working properly. I yanked on my wallet in an exaggerated gesture that ended with the contents spilling onto the floor. Change rolled across the tiles.
“Damn it!” I hissed, ducking my head as I knelt down on the floor to start the task of gathering my stuff.
I wasn’t embarrassed. I was nervous.
“Here, let me help you.” He crouched down beside me and started picking up my loose change and a pile of loose papers, including a ticket stub.
“The Dandy Warhols. Nice. I saw them live a few years ago.” He handed it back to me, his full-toothed smile on prominent display. He was good-looking. That was an easy thing to say. But there was something else about him that intrigued me. That had me crouched on the floor, staring up at him like an idiot.
I took the ticket stub and stuffed it back in my purse.
“Yeah, they’re one of my favorites.” I smiled. He smiled.
His brown eyes widened ever so slightly. His cheeks flushed. Just a little. He swallowed. Maybe his mouth was as dry as mine.
Maybe all the primping had paid off.
“Hi,” he said, his mouth curving upward in a slight half smile. Slightly coy. Slightly flirtatious.
“Hi,” I responded, just as flirtatious. Just as coy. Or at least I hoped so.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” he commented, picking up my tube of lip gloss and holding it between his fingers. Not relinquishing it. Holding on to it until he was ready.
I felt a momentary twinge at his words. He hadn’t noticed me.
Of course he hadn’t.
I made it my mission to fly below the radar.
But it bothered me in this instance that I hadn’t gotten his attention.
“What a line.” I smirked, holding my hand out until he finally gave me the lip gloss. Our fingers brushed.
He flushed, his face turning red. I found it endearing how easily I could embarrass him. I wasn’t the only bumbling fool in this meeting.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I was just trying—I mean, I only wanted to say—”
