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Twenty-Five
Conor
The second mycomputer screen went blank, I knew what had happened.
“Goddammit,” I groused under my breath, unsurprised when bright green text flashed onto it.
I swore, this bitch had a Matrix obsession—only ever did things in black and green.
Lodestar: **I know what you did last summer.**
aCooooig: **I’m not Freddie Prinze Jr.**
Lodestar: **Shame. Always had a crush on him.**
aCooooig: **There a reason you hijacked my hardware?**
Lodestar: **Fun?**
aCooooig: **Fuck. U.**
Lodestar: **Ouch. You trying to hurt my feelings?**
aCooooig: **If you infect my hardware again, you’ll wish that was all that hurt when I’m through with you.**
Lodestar: **I thought you liked playing?**
aCooooig: **I do. Just without the ten grand price tag every time.**
Lodestar: **It’s true what they say then.**
aCooooig: **About what?**
Lodestar: **The Irish. Tight.**
aCooooig: **My ass is tight. And it’s the Scots. The Irish are flush with cash when they’re happy.**
Lodestar: **Good to know.**
aCooooig: **There a reason you’re here? Hijacking my computer?**
Lodestar: **Yep**
aCooooig: **Care to share?**
Lodestar: **Seen the traces you’ve been running**
aCooooig: **Which ones?**
Lodestar: **All of them, little bird. Flying all over the web like you have. You’re lucky I’m the first one to spot it.**
aCooooig: **Specifics.**
Lodestar: **The Fieris?**
aCooooig: **There a reason you got in touch?**
Lodestar: **I just learned we’re working for the same side.**
