Lesson 12: Hacking

"So how was your date with that pretty boy?" Kole asked in our training session, sweat on his brow from the intensity of the workout routine.

I whacked a punching bag. "How'd you hear about that?"

He sent me a flat stare which I just about caught from the corner of my eye. "The guy is the son of a retired supermodel and a multimillion-dollar business mogul. His sister is one of the most coveted models in the world and he has close ties with celebrities like Damien Beckett. Do you really think no one has ever taken a picture of him whilst he's out and about?"

I raised a brow. "Someone sounds like a bit of a fanboy."

Kole stopped doing sit-ups, his face a bit pink and I doubted that it was only from the exercise. "I- what- n-no. His sister is hot as shit to be fair but no. Henry told me. There are pictures of you guys all over Twitter."

"Henry? That little snitch! Either way, it doesn't matter. He gets pictured with loads of girls," I shrugged.

"I don't know, Jaia. You two looked pretty cosy if you ask me. Singing karaoke together and then snogging him after? I didn't mark you as the type. Especially considering that I thought you hated the guy after you found out about what Henry had dug up. Didn't you call him an 'arrogant rich pretty boy who only cares about himself'?"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh fuck off. I had to sell the act. He's the best way to get closer to Jacob."

Kole narrowed his eyes. "Mmhhh sure. I don't think even you can act that well. What changed your opinion on him?"

I kicked the punching bag so hard that it almost toppled over and Kole's eyes went slightly wide at the action. "Nothing has changed my opinion. I'm sure he's probably still arrogant. No one is hot, rich, charming and nice. Something has gotta give."

"Oh, you think he's nice?" Kole teased using a high pitched girly voice. "Spill." As much as he was trying to mock me, I knew he was curious.

"Shut up," I laughed, the tension leaving my body at his ridiculous attempt at a teenage girl voice. "I just don't get it, Kole. I was ready to hate him. He's a player, it's obvious. But he's nice and funny too? He doesn't seem like a bad guy."

Kole shook his head, getting up from the floor to pat me on the shoulder. "Jaia, Jaia, Jaia. Surely Celine taught you better than this? It's an act all the pretty boys put on to get in your pants. You know once he gets what he wants he'll be gone before you can blink. Don't get attached."

I scowled at him, crossing my arms. "I know that, Kole. I haven't gotten attached. He's a means to an end. I only went out with him for the mission's sake."

"It always starts as 'just part of the mission'. Keep your guard up, okay? You're like my little sister, Jay and Zack screams trouble. I don't want you getting hurt." His tone had lost the snarkiness it'd previously held and was softer now, more gentle.

I pushed Kole's hand off my shoulder. "Kole, I'm twenty-one, not a child. I've dealt with guys like this before. I know what I'm doing so you don't need to worry."

"I'll always worry, Jay."

I smiled slightly, savouring the moment before punching him in the stomach. He doubled over in pain. "What the fuck?"

"Sorry," I grinned. "That all got a little too mushy for me. Besides, you deserve that for thinking I can't handle myself."

He scoffed, shoving me into the punching bag. "Whatever, Jaia. Also, did I mention that you look particularly ugly today?" he mused, smiling.

"Cunt."

"Bitch," he winked, going back to doing his sit-ups.

We fell into a comfortable silence and I carried on with my onslaught of attacks on the punching bag but they weren't as strong as before. My mind kept wandering back to the conversation we'd just had. Attached? Me? I rolled my eyes at the thought. Kole really came up with some top tier bullshit from time to time.

~*~*~

I checked the time on my phone. 15:47. She was late as per usual. The waiter came by, looking sympathetically at the empty seat opposite me. "She's running a bit late. Can you give me ten more minutes?"

He nodded with an understanding smile and walked off,  probably feeling bad and thinking I'd been stood up by a date.

I tapped the wooden table, staring out the window as I waited impatiently for her to finally show up. Almost ten minutes later she decided to grace me with her presence and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes when she sat down, smiling so much that it was hard to stay annoyed.

"Blair!" she beamed. "It's been forever, girl. I thought you vanished off the face of the earth."

I smiled a bit. "I did do something like that. Oh, and could you call me Cassie for now? Work stuff."

She gave me a knowing look. "I got you, doll, don't worry. Though I gotta say, I don't think Cassie really suits you. Actually, maybe it does just about now that you've got the blonde hair but..."

"You don't like the blonde, Tam?" I asked, knowing she'd give me an honest answer.

She shook her head. "The brown suited you better. Your skin is light brown and you've got warm undertones. You still look hot as a blonde don't get me wrong but you were a proper bombshell brunette. But, hey, maybe I'm just sentimental. Reminds me of old times like when we snuck into that masquerade ball back in Spain to kill that ambassador guy. We'd both dressed up in those expensive and fancy-ass dresses we'd stolen. That was a fun evening."

I smirked, the memory flashing through my mind. "Oh, I could never forget that. I think I still have the dagger somewhere back in Italy. You know, the really pretty one with rubies in the hilt? Those were such fun times."

"Didn't we also steal that dagger?"

I shrugged, a mischievous look in my eyes. "It matched the dress, I had to. Besides, why buy it when it's that easy to steal? They're asking for it at that point."

She laughed, leaning down to fish the laptop out of her backpack. "Very true. Now, as much as I love our catch up sessions, I know that's not why you asked to meet me. What d'you need?"

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. "It's this guy, S.R. Jackson. I was wondering if you'd be able to hack into his records and find out who he's been selling stock to?"

She raised a questioning brow. "Jackson? Of course I can but should I be worried about this? He's a powerful guy, Bla- oops, I mean Cassie. You're not in trouble are you?"

"I'm always in some sort of trouble, Tammy, you know that but no need to worry, I'm fine. Promise. It's just a mission I've got. You're the best of the best so I thought if anyone had a chance at hacking him, it'd be you."

I had known Tammy for a long time, since I was about thirteen. I'd always known her to wear a weave or leave her hair in its natural afro style but I supposed four years could change anyone because now she was rocking box braids, something she had always told me was 'too much effort to do' before. She was wearing jeans and an adorable yellow crop top which complimented her dark skin beautifully. I'd always been a little envious of how smooth and clear her skin was.

She had never known what organisation I worked for and she'd never asked. Tammy had helped me a bunch over the years and I'd saved her ass a number of times too. We never asked the other any questions when they needed help, we just sorted it. It was an unspoken agreement that removed the complications our friendship would've otherwise caused.

It had been harder to contact her since MI5 because I couldn't risk getting found out but Tammy understood. She'd gone MIA for about a year at one point too but I'd never questioned it. She had her jobs and I had mine. Neither of us needed to know more than that.

I'd asked her to hack Jackson instead of Henry because of the fact that she wouldn't ask any questions. Questions which I couldn't answer without giving away my criminal past.

She flicked a braid over her shoulder, typing like a madwoman on her keyboard, the clacking sound amplified by her yellow acrylic nails.

I handled the waiter when he came back, ordering for both of us because Tammy was too far in 'the zone' to pay attention to anyone.

I was just having the first bite of my pizza when she finally spoke. "Okay. Check it," she said, spinning her laptop around to face me before having a bite of her ravioli. "Mhhh you know me so well."

I winked. "Of course."

"You wouldn't believe how many firewalls and defence barriers this Jackson guy has. Almost as much security as the bloody Whitehouse."

"Makes sense I suppose. He works with a lot of powerful people."

"True. Doesn't make it any less annoying though. Now, what are you looking for?"

"Not a what but a who," I said, eyes gliding over hundreds of products and names. "Does 'control F' still work on this?"

She sent me a flat look as if I was the dumbest person alive.

"What? I was just asking."

"Next you're going to be asking me how to make an email account."

I gasped in mock hurt. "Ouch. I deal with knives not computers. We can't all be as talented as you."

She grinned, taking another bite of her food. "Well whatever it is you're using 'control F' for, find it quickly. The longer I'm in his system, the more likely he is to find out."

I rolled my eyes, searching for Jacob's name. It was a long shot because his affiliates bought it, not him but it was worth a try nonetheless. Nothing. "Fuck's sake," I groaned.

"Need any help?"

I shook my head. I tried searching for '£950' instead, the price written down in Jacob's finance files. About twenty different items popped up. I scanned through them, looking for anything familiar.

Guns.

Knock-out gas.

Blades.

Toxic waste.

Explosives.

The list went on but something caught my eye. Next to one of the sold items was a price tag much bigger than my searched amount but it had a follow-up payment of £950 paid by — in S.R. Jackson's words — 'a burly blond man who looks like he steps on flowers for fun'. I couldn't help but snort at the odd description which I could definitely match to Jacob.

According to the item listing, Jacob had picked up explosives concealed in small metal spheres to look like chunky jewellery of some kind. There was no mention of how dangerous the explosives were and no pictures to match either. Still, this definitely confirmed my theory that Jacob was involved with the terrorist group I was looking for.

I snapped a picture just in case and cleared my search before handing the computer back to Tammy. She could easily check what I'd looked for if she wanted to but I knew she wouldn't.

"You get what you needed?"

I nodded. "Thanks a bunch, Tam. You're a Godsend."

She laughed, doing a bit more typing on her laptop before putting it away. "Anytime, Cassie."

We finished our lunches, finally having the proper catch up we needed. I was just about to call for the bill when I saw Tammy tense, her eyes trained on the door. "Cassie?" she whispered, her eyes shifting to mine and looking horrified. "We have a problem."

"What is it?" I asked, not daring to turn around and look at the door. "Tammy, take your eyes off whoever it is you're staring at and talk to me. You'll look less suspicious."

She gulped but nodded, plastering a fake smile onto her face which did look quite convincing. "This guy just walked in. I may or may not have conned him out of a hell of a lot of money a few weeks back. He's out for blood."

"Want me to kill or just knock him unconscious?" I asked, throwing a few bills onto the table and readying to make a run for it.

She didn't even blink. "Kill."

Tammy was, morally, a much better person than I was so I knew if she wanted him dead there was a damn good reason so I nodded. "Consider it done."

She breathed a sigh of relief, packing up the last of her things. "You're too good to me, Cassie."

I shook my head with a slight smile. "That's what friends are for."

Friends. In my line of work, it was hard to find anything of the sort. Trust was a fragile and dangerous thing so was given out scarcely. I had very few people in my life who I would actually call a friend but when I did care for someone I'd put my life on the line for them.

Blood didn't matter to me. Friends and family were one and the same in my eyes and I'd die to protect my family.

We waited for about twenty minutes, letting the guy sit down and order before we made a quick exit from the restaurant. I'd fumbled and accidentally knocked into the waiter on the way out but, thankfully, he'd told me not to worry about it because nothing had spilled or been knocked over. Even more thankfully, the guy hadn't noticed, too engrossed in whatever was on his phone.

I marked his face as we left. Once a safe distance away, Tammy told me as much as she could about him, pulling up pictures and a fact file she'd created on her laptop.

Ivan Inglewood. Very rich and the successor to a large accountancy firm. However, he seemed rather fond of abusing his power and status, especially on poor vulnerable women with nowhere else to turn.

My jaw clenched. "Don't worry, Tam. He's as good as dead."

"What are you going to do."

I shrugged, hands lounging in my pockets. "I've already done it."

She raised a shocked brow. "What d'you mean?"

"Remember when I 'accidentally' bumped into that waiter? He was bringing Ivan his drink. I might've just slipped my own little concoction into the milkshake to give it some extra flavour."

Tammy's dark eyes were wide as she looked at me in astonishment. "You- you never cease to amaze me, Cassie. You know that?"

"I try."

"Wait, won't this get the waiter or one of the staff members in trouble? And if not them, we were surely seen on CCTV cameras."

I shook my head, easing her nerves before she could panic. "Nope. Slow acting poison. Takes a week to have any major effects and is untraceable because it simply clots up arteries until the victim dies of a heart attack. Easy."

"And you just so happen to have poison on you because?"

I laughed, flashing her my best devious look. "I've got enemies in lots of places, Tam. You can never be too prepared."

~*~*~

I hope you're liking the story so far! Don't hesitate to let me know your thoughts.

Stay safe xx