Darcy laughed but Claire didn’t think it was very funny. “You’re laughing, but you don’t like it either when men think you’re easy. And I can’t even describe the irritating leer the police office gave me as he leaned over the counter to get a closer look down my sweater. He actually thought I was too stupid to realize what he was doing!”
“I’m always amazed at how men underestimate you as well. And I’m with ya on the irritating men hitting on women side of things too,” she agreed and sobered quickly. “But it’s just comical the way men are around you. It’s like you’re some sort of honey and all the bees are flocking to you.”
“That’s silly. Especially coming from you. You always have a man on your arm when you hit the clubs.”
“That’s all advertising and contracts. The men I’m with have paid to be on my arm.”
That stunned her. “Really?”
“Sure,” Darcy confirmed. “My agent suggested it about a year ago. She explained that some men just wanted their names attached to mine, exactly like the night clubs. So she said we should get paid for that as well.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?”
“It’s all choreographed, just like the night club visits. They sign a contract that is pretty tight. Some of the men reject the contract thinking a date with me might get them a chance at more, but that’s their choice. The terms are non-negotiable and I’d rather know up front if a guy is going to be a problem. The contract terms easily weeds out the freaks.”
Claire considered that for a moment. “Interesting,” she thought, wondering if perhaps Titus contracted out help to private contractors.
“Claire, I don’t like the sound of that tone. What are you thinking?” Darcy asked.
Claire was already distracted, her fingers typing in new code for her next visit to a coffee shop. “I’ll get back to you when I have more details,” she said and hung up before Darcy could argue with her. She loved her friend but at times, Darcy was too much of a mother hen, wanting to protect her chicks from non-existent wolves.
Chapter 2
“Another breach, sir,” Jeff Fulton said as he walked into Mitch Sargent’s office. Tossing a report on the man’s desk, he stood in front of it, prepared to answer questions.
Mitch picked up the report, instantly irritated but not showing anything on his hard, experienced face. “Where was it this time and how the hell did someone get through our firewalls again? It’s like this person doesn’t even realize there’s a security wall to breach, they get in to our systems much too easily.”
“Anther coffee shop with pay by the hour internet access. The code is good,” Gary said, letting the information sink in. “Whoever this hacker is, they’re looking for something specific. The same types of files are downloaded each time.”
“What type of files is the hacker getting into?” he demanded, his ice blue eyes quickly skimming through the details of the hacker’s code. Mitch was impressed despite himself. This code was good and fast, going for exactly one type of file with efficiency. “Human resources data?” he guessed.
“Exactly,” Gary confirmed. “None of the stolen data is confidential information but it could be pretty important.”
“We do it ourselves when we need information about certain issues. We do it legally though.” Mitch tossed the report onto his large, polished desk and looked out at the magnificent view from his office window. From here he could see the Shenandoah Mountains which never ceased to amaze him. Their majestic peaks and valleys, old, weathered and beaten but still standing tall in the distance, served as inspiration as well as a challenge and he loved the sight, as much as he loved this company he’d built up on his own from sweat, hard work and intelligence. Titus Securities was known internationally for ensuring corporate data and superior building security, among other things. And this hacker, although only a nuisance, he was getting into information that was none of his business. But until Mitch could figure out what they were going after, he wanted them to keep on digging.
Dismissing Jeff with a curt nod, he rubbed his chin, considering all the options. “I’ll get back to you shortly,” he said and turned to his computer. This wasn’t a normal computer though. This puppy was state of the art with eight screens and connections to some of the world’s most protected information.
His concentration was unswerving as he worked through the details of a program. Mitch didn’t even notice that the daylight had faded and velvety night time was moving deep into the morning hours. When he finally looked up and stretched, he’d been working for twelve hours straight but the program he’d created was perfect. There was a Trojan horse that would be installed whenever someone hacked into one of his computer systems again. If they downloaded information from his company again, they’d also be downloading a virus that would give him the information he needed to catch the bastards.
With another few clicks on his keyboard, he sent it off to his security team with instructions on how to load it up. First thing in the morning, all the databases would be loaded and, when this hacker tried again, he’d have the location of where they were downloading the data within seconds.
Catching the person was another issue, he thought. Going down to the communications control room, he went directly to the map of Washington, DC, ignoring the shocked reactions of the late night analysts who were working on their monitors. It was extremely rare that the CEO of their company showed up in the control room.
Titus Securities was headquartered in Washington, D.C. but he had branches in fifteen other cities of the United States and twelve countries worldwide. All the coffee shops that had sponsored the hacker were located in the Alexandria, Virginia area, a suburb of Washington, D.C. which was a data point in itself. With a red erasable marker, he worked on locating each of the coffee shops. Realizing when he was done that the marks were scattered within a five mile radius of each other. Another interesting point.
As he worked on the details, the night shift shut down and the morning crew came back in, all of them staying quiet as they noticed their big boss working in the control room.
By eight the next morning, Mitch was on his second pot of coffee and Jeff strolled up next to him. Noting his boss’s unshaved appearance and slightly unkempt clothing, which was normally immaculate, he deduced that Mitch hadn’t left the building yet. “Find anything interesting?” he asked as Mitch grimaced on a large swallow of cold coffee. “I got more information last night,” he said and showed Mitch the cross checking he’d done overnight.