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Suddenly, my entire computer corrupted and went black.
My skin broke out in goosebumps, and my stomach dropped.
Oh fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
How?
I closed my laptop and stood up in horror, staring at it. Those little shits had set me up with their own trap door, and like an idiot, I'd walked right through it.
I grabbed my phone and opened the secure chat line with my team leader.
Analyst04: We have a problem. Respond ASAP.
I quickly sent the message off and waited for a response.
I paced around the living room. My phone dinged, and I snatched it up.
My stomach dropped once more.
The hacker was all the way in, and they messaged me via my secure chat line.
Not bad, but you got sloppy. You’ve been so successful at pushing me out the last few months, I’m quite impressed. But I am over your little games. Maybe you should sleep with the lights on tonight. It gets awfully dark on Allen Lane, don’t you think? Night night, Emma.
The hairon the back of my neck raised, and I quickly terminated the chat.
Holy fucking shit, I was in big trouble.
With my secure chat line terminated, and without my laptop working; I had no way of communicating with anyone from the agency. I had no phone number for my team leader. I had no way of getting in touch with Viktor.
Holy fucking shit. What did I get myself into? I grabbed a pocket knife and quickly pushed furniture in front of the downstairs doors, and ran upstairs and locked myself in my room. My pulse pounded in my ears as I peeked through the blinds in my room. The street was quiet, and the only noise was the soft hum of the glowing street lamp. It was after midnight and most of the lights in the other houses on the street were already off.
I knew because I had no one's information at the agency that I was highly disposable to them. As an off-book branch of the CIA, it was part of the gig. Protocol was to contact my team leader if something went south, and I prayed they would get the message and contact me.
I wasn’t supposed to contact emergency services, but at this rate, screw the rules. If someone broke in, I was calling for help. I wasn’t just going to sit her like a waiting duck to get picked off. Maybe that made me a shitty patriot, but I didn’t care. I hadn't gotten into this work honestly, anyway.
I settled into the corner farthest from my bedroom door with my phone in one hand, ready to dial emergency services, and my knife in the other hand.
Eventually my breathing evened out and as I strained, I didn’t hear any noise. I felt my eyes getting droopy as I sat there in the dark, and I tried to fight it as I felt myself getting more and more sleepy.
2
MASON
DING!I groaned and threw my hand over to my nightstand and searched blindly in the dark for my phone. The sound of a security breach alert.
I checked the time. Two in the morning. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and checked the secure chat line.
Analyst04: We have a problem. Respond ASAP.
The chat linewas terminated after the message.
Oh shit.
I frantically got up and went to the window, and peered through the blinds at Emma’s house. All the lights were off and it was dark on the street.
What the hell did you get up to, Emma?
