The Omega Team: Keeping Karen (Kindle Worlds Novella) (6 page)

“I was running a couple of different programs that night. I wanted to vet my own data, more to cover my own ass in case there were improprieties on the bank’s part than for any other reason.”

“Embezzling?” That hadn’t occurred to him.

“Or straight up fraud. White collar criminals never look like criminals. Sometimes they hire people like me so, if they get caught, they can throw doubt on the work we do. Anyway, I was looking for a pattern of transactions, anything like the tenth of a penny. All the deposits to those different accounts were in the same amount, and they were all payable to banks in isolated areas, local branches without a national affiliation.”

“So, why did they turn up in the bank you were searching?”
Unless…

“They all originated from those banks accounts. Again, all over the country, no two the same, but all paid through them. Whoever was processing the payments has to use that chain. Maybe as a filter or at least as their money man.”

Ethan turned the idea over in his head. He’d seen the reports. The accounts the money came from hadn’t had the funds for long. They’d sat there then transferred out like a mistaken deposit. What if the deposit hadn’t been a mistake? What if whomever was paying for the kills deposited the money into a random account then it was transferred to where it needed to go…? “Who has access to those accounts?”

“All of them?”

“All of them.”

Karen shook her head. “A lot of people. Probably anyone who has security clearance at the bank.”

“But one branch wouldn’t have access to another’s, would they?”

“They’d need the account numbers but, yeah, that’s the benefit of banking with a national chain. You may have opened your account in New York, but if you visit in a branch in Georgia, you can still access your funds.”

For fuck’s sake, his suspect pool got wider… “Is there anything about those accounts that you can remember that made them stand out?”

She bowed her head, seemingly staring at her feet. His eyes had adjusted to the dark, but he couldn’t make out her expression. Still, he’d seen that thoughtful look on her face before. She was reviewing whatever she’d seen in her head. Replaying it. Turning it over. Solving the puzzle. Her ability to visualize was why she’d always done well in games and in computers. Given enough time and motivation, she could solve anything.

“Only that the transactions transferring the money happened within seconds of the deposits, and not by a program.”

“How do you know a program didn’t do it?”

“A program needs specific parameters. Yes, you could write one that says search for this specific amount, remove it and transfer it to x, y or z. It’s just a series of if, then statements. But programs also take time. These transactions were not even two full seconds apart. Even with a Cray supercomputer, it would take longer than two seconds to scan every single bank branch deposit every second of the day. It just wouldn’t work like that. The reason the tenth of a penny skimmer worked is it happened as the payments were processed, which doesn’t happen until midnight at most banks. The transactions appear, but they aren’t actually moved until later.”

That narrowed his suspects. “Someone would have to be watching for it, know it’s coming then move the money?”

“Logistically, yes.”

They needed to go back. Turning he tugged her to him and brushed his lips against hers. The electric contact sizzled through his system. “Woman, I love your brain.”

E
than’s excitement thrilled her
, though the kiss he gave her thrilled her more. Once they were inside the house, though, instead of pursuing their connection, he got on the phone. He related her supposition about the bank transfers. She wanted to participate in the hunt, yet he refused to give her the network password. All her earlier reasons for not flouting his rules still remained. It wasn’t safe. Someone out there hunted her.

Dammit. I want my life—our life—back.
Circumstances forced them together. If they caught the culprits, it would free them both.
Then we can see if we really do want to be together.
Not sure who she wanted to test more, herself or him, gave her a good reason to access his wifi. While Ethan paced the living room, filling in his contact, she opened her laptop, located his wifi, and began running the program to decrypt his password.

Sixteen-bit encryption could take a while. Four numbers in, Ethan paused behind her, and she tilted her head to meet his gaze. His mouth tightened, but he leaned past her and typed the password in. He then pointed a finger at her and mouthed,
Mask.

Masking the IP was the first rule of any hacking, but she would go a step further and bounce her connection through a series of open servers until she could spoof a different IP entirely. Once she was on the net, she began her hunt. Whomever worked at the bank needed access to all accounts. Most tellers could see what was in an account, and they might even be able to process transactions with the customer present and providing access with their bank card.

So
, she would eliminate that first tier as having the time or access to sit on a transaction. In all likelihood, they were seeking someone in management or… IT. Flipping to the report she hadn’t filed, she reread her information on the skimmer. The program had been uploaded during a server upgrade. It created the worm which began surfing all the transactions, yet it only activated after midnight for a period of about two minutes, during which all the pending transactions from the day before were processed.

Sophisticated.

Cagey.

Distracting.

“The point, Grey, is someone has to be sitting on that trigger.”

She didn’t have all the code. Most of it was on the machines the cops had taken into evidence. All she had were the snippets. Scrolling down her report, she reviewed the targeted threads. Each little scrap had been pulled from the main worm, but they included where the money should be sent. Flipping to her email, she scanned for her contact with the bank. He was the head of their internal security auditors. He’d asked for her specifically.

“Ethan…”

“Hang on, Grey.” He pivoted to face her. “Yeah, darlin’?” A warm feeling invaded her every time he said darlin’. It was both familiar and all together new in the same instant.

“It’s someone in their internal security department.” She trusted her gut on this.

“Okay, why do you think that?” He didn’t dispute her assertion, merely asked for more facts.

“The head of their internal security auditors hired me to do an independent audit. He wanted me to go over all the code. He has a dozen or more employees all equally capable of doing what I did and probably for cheaper…”

“He thought it was an inside job, which is why he needed an outside auditor.” Ethan frowned. “Did you catch that Grey?” He said nothing, listening to the person on the other end of the phone.

“That or he thought they would catch the transfers themselves. I wasn’t supposed to be looking for those. If I didn’t skim all transactions, I might have missed them entirely.” Yet the code she’d found had intrigued her enough to dig deeper.

“Name?”

“Angela Kruger.” That gave him pause. The
man
who hired her had been a woman. “Yes, Ethan. Women can be bad guys, too.” Despite the tightness of his expression, a flash of humor warmed his eyes.

“Grey, we need everything you can find on an Angela Kruger, and we should probably get eyes on her…”

“She’s at the Ninety-Nine Club on Connecticut Avenue Northwest.” Scrolling through the woman’s social media, she found three separate check-in programs. “She got there about twenty-five minutes ago.”

Ethan gave her another look.

“What? I’m just following her breadcrumbs.” Even if Angela was behind the transfers, that didn’t mean she’d targeted Karen specifically.
Of course, she could have pointed those who did right at me.

“Thanks, Grey. Let me know.” After disconnecting the call, Ethan dropped onto the sofa next to her. She loved the feeling of his thigh pressing against hers, but she kept her attention on the screen. Angela turned out to be one of those over share people. She posted everything to her various social media accounts. Given enough time, she could piece together everywhere she’d been.

Still, after three days, and only Ethan and the mysterious Grey he kept calling, she did have some questions of her own. “Who is Grey?”

“A friend.”
Cryptic.

“And the other marshals?”

He went still. “What about them?”

“I’ve been thinking… Well, parsing really. You took me into protective custody, but your boss indicated there would be more than one marshal guarding me. That said, I haven’t seen anyone else, and the only person you contact is your friend.”

“I didn’t tell anyone where we were going.”
Not entirely true.

“You mentioned Destin.”

“In passing, yes. There’s a safe house on the other side of town. If anyone tracked you via the marshal service, they wouldn’t come here.” His lack of trust in the organization he worked for wasn’t unsettling at all.

“Are we safe here?”

“Yes.” He slid an arm around her shoulders. “Karen, I promised to protect you, and I meant it. Grey and his team are not remotely connected to you and barely to me. They will be able to dig and help the investigation while I focus on keeping you safe.”

“But you don’t trust the people you work with…” That stupid image of him dying flashed through her mind, and she exited the web browser she’d been using. “It also means you have no backup if something goes wrong.”

“Nothing is going to go wrong. No one knows where we are, and I’m using a burner phone.”

“You do realize this is the part of the movie where an explosion happens and everything goes to hell, right?”

“You watch way too many movies.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth then added, “Real investigations tend to be a lot of phone calls, interviews and waiting.”

“Uh huh.” She closed the laptop and slid it into the table. Glass shattered with a tinkling sound then stuffing filled the air. Ethan’s arms closed around her and he shoved her off the sofa even as he pushed the coffee table away. Tiny explosions sprayed the room. A curious symphony of thump, striking noises as the sofa continued to poof into little pieces over them and floated down. More glass broke. Ethan had his gun in his hand and kept her pressed against the carpet. With his face so near hers, she couldn’t help the strained laugh escaping. “You were saying?”

B
ullets continued
to spray the room. They decimated his sofa, slammed into the walls, and shattered a portion of the glass door. Several cracks appeared in the other windows, but the bullet proofing held. Of course they had to shoot through the one spot he hadn’t had modified.
Yet.

The cool weight of his gun fit into his palm, and he kept Karen covered. “Stay low,” he hissed. Her strangled laugh worried him. Being shot at wasn’t funny or amusing, but shock did weird things. “We’re going to crawl out to the hall.” All the other rooms had bulletproof glass. He could also get her into the closet, which doubled as a panic room.

He gave her a moment to process the order and, when she gave a nod, he began edging her toward the door. Staying low to the floor provided them some cover. Karen didn’t hurry, instead she reached up to the table and grabbed her laptop.

Growling, he jerked the device out of her hand and shoved it under the sofa. “It can be replaced. You can’t.”

Inch by inch, they crawled over the splinters of glass and debris. The shots had stopped, but that didn’t mean anything. As soon as they were in the hall, he pulled her to her feet and rushed her upstairs toward the bedroom. Inside, he gave her a nudge into the closet, then flipped open the security pad. “Code is my birthday. Enter it to lock the door.”

“What about you?” She paled then grabbed his arm. “You can’t go out there alone.”

“I can and I am. Get in, stay in.” He pulled the burner phone from his pocket. “Last number dialed is Grey Holden. Tell him who you are, where we are, and don’t open this door for anyone who isn’t me or him.”

As much as he hated doing it, he gave her another kiss then pushed her inside and closed the door. It took a full three seconds, but the locks engaged.

“I love you,” he told the door then checked his gun. Safety off, fully loaded clip. The lights were off, so he stayed in the shadows as he made his way to the top of the stairs. If he’d been sent to do the job, he would need to make sure of the kill. The best access point would be the shattered glass door. All the others were locked. The silent alarm had been triggered, but the cops would never make it to his place in time.

A faint crunch below served as a warning. He settled into position against the wall with a direct line of sight on the stairs. Ethan waited. With no backup and Karen behind him, he couldn’t afford to make mistakes or risk her safety any further. Someone had tracked her to his place. Whomever was after her had to have known she left with him.

A problem for later.
He kept his focus on the current situation. The person moving through the downstairs didn’t make much noise. The crackle of the glass offered the only hint of where they were. A light from below cast a twisted shadow on the wall at the foot of the stairs. The shadow elongated as the perp drew closer.

Breathing steady, he kept it to a four count for the inhale and a four count for the exhale. His pulse slowed. Between one moment and the next, Ethan steadied. Everything filtered through a cool sense of awareness. His breathing. His pulse. The air temperature. The bead of sweat sliding down his spine. The threat paused, just out of view. In the silence, Ethan could almost hear the sound of his own breathing.

A slide lock on a gun clicked below then the man rushed the stairs. Bullets slammed into the wall close to him. Drywall flew away and nicked his cheek. Gun steady, he fired. Three shots, close formation, all center mass.

The other man collapsed and tumbled down the stairs. From explosions to silence. Ethan didn’t rush to follow him in case a secondary attacker waited below. If they wanted to get to Karen, they had to come through him.

Blood trickled down his cheek, and the gun felt almost hot in his palm. In the distance, sirens wailed.

Here comes the cavalry.
Still, Ethan stayed right where he was…waiting. Watchful.

When the flashing lights strobed red and blue through his windows and a cop called out below, Ethan allowed his vigilance to relax a fraction. “Ethan James, U.S. Marshal Service.” He identified himself. “I am armed, and we’re secure up here. One shooter down.”

Only when they returned the favor of the all clear did he head back to the closer and knock. “Karen? It’s me.”

When she was in his arms, he held her tight. They were one step closer to taking care of the threat against her and, when it was over, he planned on keeping her safe. Forever.