Hacker beloved, p.1
Hacker Beloved, page 1
HACKER BELOVED
WHITE HAT SECURITY
BOOK THIRTEEN
LINZI BAXTER
WHITE HAT PRESS, LLC
CONTENTS
1. Cj
2. Zayla
3. Asher
4. Zayla
5. Cj
6. Asher
7. Zayla
8. Asher
9. Cj
10. Cj
11. Zayla
12. Asher
13. Zayla
14. Cj
15. Zayla
16. Asher
17. Epilogue – Zayla
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Hacker Beloved
White Hat Security, Book 13
Copyright © 2023 by Linzi Baxter
Kindle Edition
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
1
CJ
My heart pounded with anticipation, the same feeling I got every time I worked in the field with Asher. He wasn't only my fiancée; he was the love of my life. With how much AA Security had grown over the past few years, we didn’t work many cases in the field together. I spent most of my time overseeing the tech side of the business, and Asher managed many of the operations from the office.
Asher and his brother Antonio own AA Security. A few weeks ago, we’d gone to Antonio's house for dinner, and his wife Kat brought up how she couldn’t stop listening to a podcast called Serial Killers Unfound. Antonio claimed he didn’t trust the host, Zayla Solace. Then that’s when the biggest smile stretched across Kat’s face.
Kat is a spitfire who would manipulate a situation to get what she wants. Half the time, people don’t even realize she had conned them into her scheme until it’s too late. Mainly because, to the outside world, she is a stay-at-home mom who is married to a billionaire. What the media doesn’t know is she was an assassin for the CIA and still very active in helping with cases at AA Security. From the years I worked with her, I could pick out her plans a mile away. Most of the time, they were exciting and why I talked Asher into going along with her idea to help Zayla. It didn’t take long for him to agree to take the case.
We’d driven straight from the private airport to downtown Raleigh. The sun had started to set and cast a soft orange hue as Asher pulled into a narrow driveway. His hand reached across the center console and squeezed my leg. Zayla forwarded us two emails she received and they were threatening. Asher and I decided while we were in Raleigh, she would stay with us for protection. “Are you ready to tell her she's going to be moved to a safe house?"
Zayla’s small yellow cottage stood out among the other homes on the street. The driveway was empty and confirmed what I had found earlier—Zayla didn't have a driver's license. I studied the house, my eyes scanning every inch as though they could uncover more of her secrets. Its windows were shrouded in white lace curtains, and the paint was barely visible under the layers of ivy crawling up its walls.
“I think we should find out a few more details about her past before we take her to the safe house.”
Asher turned the SUV’s engine off. “You said her background check came back clean. We found her contact at the police department, and the team investigated those other cases. The team thinks she is right about the serial killer. You don’t think she is?”
Before I met Asher, I’d worked for White Hat Security as a Cyber Security Engineer. We mostly assisted companies when they got hacked and helped rebuild their networks. I’d seen some shitty things in the world, but nothing like the cases AA Security gets. I learned to spot a hidden identity quickly. Zayla's background had enough to make it seem legit, but my gut told me differently.
“Something feels off.”
Asher nodded before he opened his door. “Well, let's get you those answers.”
I leaped out of the SUV and snatched my backpack off the back seat. I jogged down the brick path to catch up to Asher. My stomach dropped as Asher drew his gun with a steady hand and motioned for me to move away from the house. This wasn't the first time, and I knew it wouldn't be the last time we headed into a dangerous situation. Despite having gone through more classes than newcomers at AA Security, weekly practice at the gun range, or taking self-defense classes, here I was, being told to stay outside.
I grew impatient as I waited for Asher to emerge from the small house. With each passing minute, my anxiety grew. Five minutes later, I pulled my gun from the holster and stepped inside the home. I quickly spotted a cell phone and purse resting on the countertop in the kitchen. For a moment, I paused and wondered if we had jumped to conclusions and Zayla had gone for a walk. I’d noticed the Ring doorbell. I grabbed her phone and tapped the screen, but it needed her face. The easiest way to view the front door footage was from the Ring App on her phone. I’d created an app were I could take a photo and use it to unlock the phone.
Above the fireplace was a row of pictures. I holstered my gun and made my way through the living room. Only one of the photos on the mantel would work with the software I’d created. In the wrong hands, the application could be used to steal data from people by allowing someone to unlock their phone with a picture and then cloning the phone’s information.
A possessive arm suddenly looped around my waist, forcing me to look up from the photo I needed to scan. Asher's warm breath tickled my neck as he spoke, his voice low and stern. "I thought I told you to stay outside? Is it safe to assume you don’t follow instructions on purpose?"
I rolled my eyes as Asher spoke about how I don’t listen. We’d come to an agreement early on in our relationship. He might be my Dom, but that didn’t bleed into our work life. He narrowed his eyes. "I think we'll talk more about that later. But for now, we need to figure out what happened to Zayla. Her bedroom is a mess, and she’s not here. I'm worried the killer took her."
Asher analyzed many situations in a worst-case scenario. I needed more information before I would agree. Asher hovered over me as I manipulated the picture on my screen.
“You know she looks a lot like...” He didn’t have to finish the sentence; we both knew who he was talking about.
Tessa, our former lover, who had left us without so much as a goodbye two years prior. I looked over at Zayla, her long blonde hair falling in loose curls around her shoulders and her soft green eyes looking toward us with concern. It was true there were some similarities between Zayla and Tessa. But also one glaring difference, Tessa's green eyes were filled with deceit. My heart sank at the thought of how hard we'd tried to make her stay and how quickly she left us when it became clear that she wanted Asher for herself.
Asher noticed my downturned gaze and gently placed his hand on my forearm. “Hey, I know you don't like talking about it. I'm sorry.”
“It’s not that.” I wondered if Asher missed having a third and if I would be good enough for him.
“This conversation isn’t over. Something flashed through your mind, and I want to know what caused that concerned gaze.”
Half the time, I wondered if the man could read my thoughts.
I couldn't bring myself to look away from my phone as I tapped the last button on the app. When I finally glanced up, Asher stood there with a comforting expression that somehow made everything feel bearable. He seemed to sense my inner turmoil and drew me close against his broad chest.
"It’s not that I don't like talking about Tessa," I murmured, "but it's hard to think back on how things were so perfect, and then her true colors came out. She never loved me. She only put up with me to get close to you. What if it happens again?"
His embrace tightened around my waist. "I can promise you one thing, CJ…no matter what happens, I'm never going to let you go." His words washed over me like a soothing balm, ensuring that no matter what lay ahead, we would always be together.
"You can't say never. A lot of things can change over time."
Asher didn't loosen his grip. “If you question my love for you again, I’ll spank your ass until it’s red hot. How many times have I asked for us to set a date? But you're the one that keeps dragging your feet."
"Life keeps getting in the way."
"No, you keep coming up with excuses. After this case, it’s time for us to take a few days off and work the details of our life out."
Only because the damn man is stubborn as hell and wouldn't let me sign a prenup, no matter how many times I asked or how many ways I worded it. He would end up riding my ass for hours. He was right, we had a lot to work out. It was time, but first, we had to figure out what happened to Zayla. I placed a quick kiss on Asher's lips before I pulle
I held up the three-dimensional image I had just created, and my hand shook with anticipation. The screen flashed, and the lock screen vanished. I tapped the Ring app. Unfortunately, the battery to her doorbell was dead, and no new video was taken in over a week.
Asher's face contorted in rage as he spoke. "How could she be so careless? With no fence around her property, anybody could have taken her! She has no motion detector on the driveway, making it so anyone could pull right up to her house unannounced." He gestured wildly as he spoke, punctuating each sentence with an angry thrust of his arm.
I rolled my eyes and threw my hands up in the air in a show of mock surprise. "Is it so unbelievable people don’t have gates at the end of their driveways." I let out a dramatic sigh.
Asher's face softened for a moment before he quickly narrowed his eyes on me. "I know you think I live in this billionaire bubble and don't realize how everyone else gets by…" he grumbled. "But you don't fully agree with my reasoning behind a tall fence or wall. Technically, motion detectors similar to the ones installed in art museums would work even better if installed in the front yard." His lip ticked up, knowing we had an argument about the lasers a month prior.
“I already told you I’m not developing a laser system for the front yard.”
Asher ran his hands through his shaggy hair. "I just want everybody to be protected. If you knew the shit, I've seen in this world. People don't realize all the things that go down. How easy it is to get kidnapped, taken, or killed. A little extra security wouldn't hurt people."
Growing up in Overtown, a neighborhood in Miami, I experienced some of the shittiest things Miami had to offer firsthand. I was eight years old when I saw a person get killed in my parents' home. The drug dealer's brown eyes had haunted me for many nights as a kid. The teenager selling my dad drugs demanded my father pay, but he was short twenty dollars. So instead, my father killed him and took all the drugs he had.
The second time I saw someone killed, it was my mom. My father had found her sleeping with her boss.
I worried the third time would be my own death. My sophomore year of high school, rumors spread around the school that I was bi-sexual. It was only a matter of time before the information reached my father. Even if I told him I was straight, I wouldn’t survive his questioning. My only option was to run.
My best friend Bridget and her mother let me live with them. The area of Miami they lived in wasn’t much better than Overtown, but the love inside the small apartment made life much easier. Bridget, our friend Sophie, and I spent all our free time working on computers. The three of us had wanted to escape out of the slums.
Asher rested his hand on my arm. "Hey, I don't like that look."
"My mind wandered for a moment." I scrolled through Zayla’s email and her messages. “Her phone is a dead end."
“Maybe you can check the red light cameras down the street?”
“Sure. I’m going to check her laptop first though.”
I flipped open the MacBook on the counter and hit the power button. With a quick glance, I noticed there was a half-full water bottle right next to her computer.
From my satchel, I retrieved a small metallic kit that Kat had given me years ago for Christmas. Inside was a compact, fingerprint powder, and jelly tape. I unscrewed the cap on the powder and tapped some over the side of the bottle. The white dust clung to two perfect fingerprints. Carefully, I wrapped the tape around my index finger and pressed it against the same spot.
The tape warmed against my skin as ridges from the powder formed Zayla’s fingerprint. With one fluid motion, I tapped my index finger against the fingerprint reader on her MacBook.
Asher grunted next to me. "You know, you rave about being such a great hacker, but yet you're using Kat’s kit to get into the machine. Are you slipping?"
"Hacking would take me a lot longer. I will never admit it out loud, especially not to Kat, but sometimes she has faster solutions."
I paused as I brought up Zayla’s search history, only to find nothing new. Digging a little deeper, I uncovered a hidden program installed on her computer. Spytrap was the latest monitoring program being sold on the dark web. My heart raced as I quickly motioned for Asher to stay silent and backdoored into the software. The IP connection was still active. I anxiously navigated the software, finding out that the person had access to her camera and mic, but thankfully the flap for the webcam was closed. After a few keystrokes, I traced the IP address of the intruder. Now it was time to figure out who was behind this.
My fingers flew across the keyboard as I made a few tweaks to the system. With each click, I felt a rush of adrenaline as I hacked my way into the computer. The user had disabled the webcam, but I was able to turn it on when I made a registry change. The camera flickered on. The view before us caused my stomach to heave and a sick feeling spread throughout my body.
“Fuck,” Asher cursed.
“Is she alive?” My heart raced as I stared at Zayla's motionless form. She was strapped down to a medical table, the darkness of the room only further emphasizing her vulnerability. My gaze shifted to the figure standing next to her, his right hand gripping a glinting blade.
Seconds ticked by agonizingly slow as I tried to suppress my fear and focus on finding Zayla's exact location. When I read off the GPS coordinates, Asher typed them into his phone. We sprinted for the SUV, hoping that we would reach her before it was too late.
2
ZAYLA
The monotonous clacking of fingers typing on a computer keyboard filled the air with an incessant rhythm. I struggled to open my eyes. They felt like they were welded shut. Suddenly, the icy touch of metal hit my skin, and panic set in as I tried to move my arms, but they were restrained.
As my senses slowly returned, I felt sweat bead on my upper lip. The lone figure to my right sitting in a computer chair breathed heavily. I remained still, afraid to take a breath or let out a sound as I took in my surroundings. Only a faint glow from the row of monitors on the wall illuminated the room. Each one displayed a different home. The center monitor had a young couple hugging near an open front door, the farthest screen showed a little girl playing with a Barbie doll, and the one closest had a family seated around a dinner table.
My eyes stayed on the father for a moment before moving to the mother, who turned to her left and cut a piece of steak on her daughter's plate. On the other side of the mother was a baby in a highchair. The wallpaper on the wall struck a deep memory I had long ago buried. It was the same pattern on the walls from my childhood. A place I hadn’t stepped foot in since the night both my parents were murdered and my sister disappeared.
Except the police report Detective Conti wrote explicitly stated, my father had killed my mother and sister before taking his own life. My memories of the night were quite different. The horrible events from that night flashed across my mind. I heard my mother, and father yelling in the dead of the night. The shouting ended when I heard a popping sound. Than a door opened moments later a second pop sounded. I wouldn’t learn until later in life that the sound was a muffled gunshot. After the faint bangs, heavy footsteps echoed down the hall and stopped outside my baby sister's room. I hid under the bed and waited for hours even after the footsteps headed for the front door. My nanny had arrived the next day. She pulled me from under the bed and tried to shield my eyes as she took me out of the condo, but I saw my parents' dead bodies on the floor in the dining room.
I shook my head to clear away the awful memory and attempted to focus on the present. Dwelling on my past was not an option.
My body was rigid, and my heart pounded as I tried to make sense of the cold metal table beneath me. I couldn't recall how I had suddenly found myself bound with thick leather straps. My mind stirred, struggling to revive my memory. Chills rose along my skin as I remembered the floor creak near my back door. Immediately I knew someone had broken into my home. Carefully I made my way to the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind me. Without hesitating, I dove headfirst into the tiny walk-in closet and scrambled toward the back wall. I inwardly cursed as I remembered I'd left my phone next to my laptop on the kitchen counter. Except I wasn't quiet enough since the intruder found me. Before I could react, he'd pressed a needle into my arm, and the world faded.
