Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 77961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“This is like one of those hacker shows,” Shrapnel notes, peering at my screen.
When the connection is made, I'm ready. I click the button to start the attack. My command window starts scrolling updates so quickly that I only catch the occasional line. It's not important. If something goes wrong, I'll get a warning, but it's nice to see that the program is doing its thing.
I hate that this is actually fun. After what happened last time, I shouldn't be pleased about anything working, but Hermes was my baby for a long time, and my baby is learning to run. At least I'm keeping Dad out of trouble, and running it here is keeping his nose out of the Screaming Eagles' network. I have no idea how advanced or not it is—maybe I should check the security on it, just in case—but there is one, and I think they have a lot more than Dad is giving them credit for.
The early systems go down immediately. The security for the local Wi-Fi is totally generic. It takes a little longer to chew through the defenses of the next layer up, getting access to the regional systems, but that's still small fry stuff. The little progress bar advances as processes complete and systems are bypassed, one by one, and then we're in. All the way up. That easy. Even knowing the possible horrible consequences, a flash of pride goes through me. Dad's smart, but I'm the one who nailed down the bypass algorithm.
Even if that only makes this even more my fault.
Hermes starts processing everything it finds. I point it first at folders that look valuable, avoiding email and user profiles for now and trying to focus on things like logistics and finances that are hopefully more general and not as likely to hit any particular person.
Good work. They're convinced. Why have you changed locations?
I glance at my guys. Bull and Shrapnel are watching my screen in fascination, while Diesel's finishing up his burger and keeping a lookout. I type quickly. They’re watching me closely. We're not far from the club.
I'm sure Dad's dying to chew me out for leaving the premises, but he got his demo, and it’s more interesting than an MC. At least for his guests.
We'll talk later.
I exit the program processes and shut my laptop. Everything worked, and I didn't betray the people watching me or expose anything that is likely to get anyone dead. I let out a long sigh before I look up. “All good.”
My milkshake's all but melted now, but it still tastes good. Bull watches as I reach the bottom and the straw makes a slurping sound.
“I'm gonna need you to show me that technique in private.”
“Do you taste like strawberry?” I bat his arm while he laughs, then pack the laptop away.
“I hear being vegan helps the flavor, but you’ll have to test it out and tell me.” His hand finds its way onto my thigh, squeezing it. “You're sexy when you're being all nerdy, you know that?”
I know when we get back, the boys will have to report to Eagle-eye about all this. And I’m sure he’s going to be furious, but I try not to think too hard about that, and let the elation of a job well done last just a little bit longer.
Just in case.
21
RORY
“Do you think he’s going to kick me out?” I ask, feeling a little lost. “I would understand if he did. I don’t know what sort of deal Eagle-eye worked out with Dad, but this has to have broken it.”
Bull goes to his fridge to grab a beer. “I doubt it. Prez is a nasty old bastard when he needs to be, but he’s a sucker for a damsel in distress. Plus he doesn’t appreciate threats. We didn’t get our reputation by bowing and scraping.”
“How long have you been a member?” I didn’t get much of a chance to look at his place earlier, so now I’m taking it all in. There’s a desk in the corner with an old brick of a laptop on it, and around it are notebooks and printouts. “This looks an awful lot like school work. Are you taking classes?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah… just hobby stuff. It’s not for real credits.” He sounds a little embarrassed about it.
I take a closer look, even if he looks like he wants to pull me away. “But this is college level. Environmental science? I recognize some of those formulas. I had to do some modeling with them when I was doing my math degree.”
He shrugs. “School wasn't really… valued in my family, not like yours. I dropped out so I could start working and help my mom with rent when my dad took off. Didn’t get my GED until I joined the Eagles and finally felt like I had room to breathe, you know?”