Calculated Extortion Read online

  Scarlett ran a hand through her damp hair and took a moment to make sure she was presentable before leaving the locker room. She was short and often mistaken for being younger, so she always took care to dress more nicely than the job required. Today, she was wearing a crisp gray button-down and black pencil skirt with sling back heels. She’d swapped out her contacts, necessary for working out, for her glasses, friendlier for staring at a screen all day. Her stylish frames brought a little personality to her professional clothing. A large white pearl necklace made her look older than nineteen…or at least that’s what she told herself. A stop at the café in the bottom of the building armed her with much needed, drinkable coffee. While it seemed insufficient, she’d done everything she could to prepare herself to deliver a whole lot of bad news.

  Mike Moretti thumped into his chair and turned on his computer. He was capable of brushing off the occasional inevitable dead end. It really wasn’t a big deal. At all. He was just fighting crime, one old lady at a time. He ran a hand through his hair and turned his neck to crack it on each side. It was going to take a strong cup of coffee to get him moving today. While Mike dropped into the FBI field office regularly when he was working in the field, it didn’t seem normal to be spending more of his time there just yet. He went into the small break area and poured some coffee into navy ceramic mug. He sniffed at it and grimaced before taking a long sip. He’d had worse.

  Parker joined him moments later. “Hey, Mikey. Tough luck about last night.” Mike grumbled into his mug in response. “No sulking, dude. Shit happens.”

  “I don’t sulk.”

  Parker raised an eyebrow. “Hey, the evidence pointed to that apartment and you made a call. This guy even has Scarlett stumped. It’s just a weird case, man.”

  Mike nodded and headed over to the large whiteboard in the common area they shared with a number of other agents. While Jordan’s Silicon Valley techies would call their arrangement an open office, Mike called it, “the government is too cheap to splurge on walls.”

  Mike placed his coffee on Parker’s desk and picked up a marker. He put a big “X” through the location they’d visited the night before. There were no pictures to work with, just dates of when the charity had been hacked. He added the date of the previous evening to the list since he’d found that delightful update greeting him in his email this morning. The CEO was in the habit of paying the ransoms immediately to “minimize impact,” which wasn’t helping them catch the guy. Funny how he’d done that even after the FBI had gotten involved. He wrote the CEO’s name in the center of the board. Mike stared at the information then picked up the file on Parker’s desk. He didn’t realize how long he’d been focusing on the evidence until he took a sip of cold coffee. After making a face, he felt a hand clap on his back.

  “Hey, Mikey. How’re you doing?” Alexis studied the whiteboard and crossed her arms.

  “Fine,” Mike said into his paperwork.

  “Happens to everyone, Mikey. You’re not special,” Alexis said, cheekily.

  Mike looked up from the stack of reports he was studying with a raised eyebrow. Alexis was a great agent, loved her job, and gave him endless shit. She was a good friend who deserved a complete sentence. “Yeah, I hate it when we get a smart one.” While the FBI didn’t get a lot easy wins, the vast majority of the cases they dealt with had at least one stupid mistake for them to exploit. Since that wasn’t happening, they needed to step up their game. Alexis stood silently next to Mike, staring at the sparse whiteboard. She tapped the big black X on the board.

  “Alright. I’m not getting anything. I’m going to check with Scarlett to see if anything new came in.” Alexis turned on her heel and disappeared down a hallway. He’d do the same soon. Just as soon as he had some time to figure it out on his own.

  Alexis knocked on Scarlett’s door and her friend looked up from rubbing her face.

  “None of that. I already unwound you once this morning. I can’t keep up if you redo the damage faster than I undo it.” Scarlett gave her a small smile and Alexis sat in her guest chair.

  Scarlett grimaced. “It worked for a little while, but I had my meeting with the S.A.C. this morning. I had to explain why I haven’t put together a decent profile on the perp who is extracting ransom from a highly-respected charity when I have three special agents and Jordan at my disposal. He was nice about it, but it feels unprofessional to be outsmarted while we’re watching.”

  Alexis raised her eyebrows. “Or maybe we don’t have enough to work with.”

  “I’m missing something. There’s nothing worse than a criminal who thinks he—or she—is smarter than everyone else. Given the phrasing of the last two text messages, there is probably some personal connection. But we haven’t uncovered anything solid yet.”

  “What else do we know?”

  “Not much. There have been three separate attacks on the charity. Each time, they’ve paid an increasingly higher ransom and the total bill is now up to $70 thousand. They’re finally letting Jordan sit with their team but his first impression is that this hack used a more sophisticated custom attack instead of off-the-shelf ransomware. World Partner’s insurance is balking at the repeat offenses and the CEO is worried they’re going to have to start paying him out of pocket. Jordan’s trying to help them beef up their system but since they don’t have a lot of clues, it’s a slow process. They’re a charity—why go after them when you could literally go anywhere else?”

  Alexis decided it would be best not to mention that when she had questions like that, she usually went to Scarlett. “Well, does our perp know that he’s going after a not-for-profit?”

  “It’s called the World Partners for Peace. I’d think if they were smart enough to hack the system, they’re smart enough to figure out that they’re sticking their hand in the offering plate, so to speak. That means that the perp either doesn’t care, needs the money and has access, or has an axe to grind.”

  “Axe to grind seems unlikely for a charity.”

  “You’d think. But not everyone has a moral backbone. And beyond that, I’m providing no insight whatsoever.”

  “In your defense, we’re not working off a lot of information here.”

  Scarlett picked up her laptop bag and gave Alexis an apologetic look. “Thank you. I really do appreciate it, but I need to catch up with Jordan. Then, I’m going to go spend some time with you guys and crack this case for real. Oh, and I should probably meet the additional agent the S.A.C. thought was necessary to help me solve this in person.”

  “You mean Mike. Is that what this is about?” Alexis crossed her arms.

  Scarlett tightened her hand on the strap of her bag. “Look, I have nothing against Mike Moretti. I’ve never met the guy—we’ve only exchanged emails and he seems…fine. It’s not a big deal. I just hate that we’ve had to pull someone in from the field full-time because I can’t figure it out.” Alexis started to defend her, but Scarlett raised a hand. “You’re going to tell me that it’s not my fault, which I appreciate, and I’m going to pretend I believe you, because if I don’t, I’ll be late to my meeting with Jordan. I’ll stop by the whiteboard after. Then, let’s see if we can put our heads together and finally crack this thing.”

  Seven

  Mike thumbed through the evidence in the slim manila file folder on his desk. He put the folder down to add another detail to his notes on the communal white board and heard light footsteps behind him. A young woman with funky glasses and curly red hair walked up and stood beside him without preamble. She radiated energy and focus. She was obviously an intern. Now he had no leads and had to babysit an intern. Awesome. He gave her a silent nod, but instead of taking the hint that he didn’t have time right now, she continued to stare at the board. He asked, “So, you helping with this case?”

  “Yep. The S.A.C. wants another update from me soon.” Oh great, the Special Agent in Charge himself had hired this one. He crossed his arms and hoped she’d get bored, but instead, she sat down on th
e desk in front of the whiteboard like she owned the place. Okay, she had some guts. One point for the intern.

  “Anything new?” she asked.

  “Are you up to date?” Mike asked. Sandy, his unit chief, had explicitly told Mike he wanted him mentoring new agents and Mike had agreed that, in theory, it was a fair request. Everyone had to start somewhere and the intern had made herself comfortable. At least she could make herself useful.

  The intern scrunched her nose at him and gave him a strange look. “Yes. I’ve been helping with the investigation since day one. The only thing that’s consistent is that there isn’t a pattern between strikes. The first one was fifteen days ago in the early morning, the next one was five days ago in the late evening, and the last one was yesterday evening. Why the difference?”

  “What if it’s a team?” Mike had refreshed his coffee, which had taken it from undrinkable to mediocre. He took a sip. He wasn’t dumb enough to turn away help on a tough case and the intern seemed competent.

  “Possible but unlikely.”

  Mike raised his eyebrows and she gestured at the board, as she explained her logic. “Hackers can work in teams but this person is likely working independently. Our tech team is excellent. They haven’t found the source of the breach, which would be harder to conceal if there were several people working together. Once you get more people involved, they start leaving evidence behind when they coordinate. No, to be this invisible it’s likely one person implementing the hack. Two at most, but only one doing the dirty work.”

  “Not bad.” Mike said. The intern was helpful. Duly noted. “So how are they hiding?”

  “Don’t know. I just came from talking to Jordan. He’s convinced someone on the inside is involved. But everyone has a unique login and their actions are traceable once they log in to their work computers. It’s a security feature for the benefactors of the charity as much as for the charity itself. They may serve the greater good, but it’s still a lot of money changing hands.”

  “Do they have to log in to do this kind of damage?”

  “Well, I would assume so.” She winced. “Damn. That’s the problem. I assumed. Mike, good work.” She tapped her hand against her leg before leaping to her feet and clapping him on the back. Mike raised an eyebrow, but she had already gathered up her laptop bag and waved behind her as she power-walked away.

  Alone again, Mike began to assemble a series of pictures on the board. The intern made a good point—there was a lot of money changing hands. And Martín Vásquez, the CEO, was his top suspect. Martín Vásquez had hidden evidence until he was forced to share it and paid quickly, before they could get the information they needed. That sort of thing couldn’t be dismissed out of hand. Plus, the ominous text messages, albeit brief, may have been his version of a CYA.

  A handful of the IT people that Parker thought could be involved were waiting in the wings to be compared against the profile that Scarlett was putting together, just in case it wasn’t Martín. He listed their names on a far corner of the board. After some thought, he wrote Jen Duncan, the accountant with the weird behavior, in another corner of the whiteboard. They had no reason to suspect her, but with so little to go on, it wouldn’t hurt to write her name down. She could have seen something and not wanted to get anyone in trouble. He began to make a list of character traits of the CEO and it evolved into a complex web of motive, time, and place over the next hour. He took a step back to take in the full web of information and just about knocked over the intern, who nimbly stepped out of his path.

  “Hey again.” She gestured to the board. “Good job summing up the evidence, but you’ve got the wrong guy.”

  “Excuse me?” Mike placed his whiteboard marker back in its tray and turned to face her with his arms crossed. She was a full foot shorter than he was, and she looked up to meet his eyes.

  “The CEO is in the center of your web, which means you think he’s important. It’s not the CEO. I talked to him, ran a background check, made an assessment. It’s not him.”

  “Really? When did you talk to him?”

  “I set up a meeting Monday and did the research both before and after. His finances are solid and he has no history of this type of thing. Moreover, no motive. Messages sent to him simply cannot be traced back to him. Final death knell is his knowledge of the subject matter. If Jordan can’t figure out this hack, the average Joe can’t do it either. He may be smart enough to run a major charity but when it comes to code, Martín Vásquez is unequivocally the average Joe. He can install his own software but that’s about it. Until we have evidence that implicates him in a larger plot, we’re better off focusing on the charity staff with access, ability and motive.”

  Mike whistled. He walked up to the whiteboard, erased Martín’s name, and moved his photo to the side of the board. He raised an eyebrow and tossed her the marker. “Okay, your turn.”

  Scarlett caught the marker easily. The look on Mike Moretti’s face after telling him he was wrong was both priceless and a bit of a surprise. Instead of getting annoyed with her intrusion, he backed down in the face of sound logic to give her a turn to whack at the intellectual piñata. He had a reputation as a tough guy but underneath, he was solid. The reasons Alexis and Parker liked him so much were starting to come into focus.

  Scarlett walked past him and uncapped the marker. Raising it to the board, she narrated, “Our mastermind is a coding expert or is working with someone who has the knowledge. Here’s the tricky part—the best motives I’ve come up with are: someone who has something to prove or a bone to pick or someone who needs the money and is reluctant to take more than they need.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “The amount of money involved. The charity has an insurance policy that will cover a bigger breach than this. If they have enough inside knowledge to hack, it’s probable they know the scale of the operation, which is well beyond the 70 thousand dollars they’ve asked for. Therefore, greed isn’t the only factor. Money is involved, obviously, but there is another layer to this we’ll miss if we just focus on the ransom. My gut says there’s inexperience at play here too.”

  “Why?”

  “They’ve done this three times instead of one. Repeating the same crime in the same location is a great way to get caught. One and done is the best way to do it. They’re playing with fire and upping the possibility of criminal charges each time they strike.”

  “Can’t argue with any of that. Look, you’ve got a head for this sort of thing. You should come with us the next time we go out to the charity. It’d be a good learning experience for you.”

  Scarlett raised an eyebrow. “I could do that, I guess.”

  “I’d recommend it. You’ve got potential. You should talk to our profiler. I haven’t met her in person, but everyone thinks she’s pretty smart.”

  Scarlett mouth quirked as realization dawned. “Oh yeah? What else can you tell me about this profiler?”

  Mike shrugged. “I’m told she doesn’t miss much and she doesn’t suffer fools.”

  Scarlett let out a belly laugh. “You could say that. It just became apparent that I never introduced myself. I’m Scarlett Callahan. It’s nice to meet you.”

  Mike scratched his forehead and gave her a wry grin. “Ah, the Dr. Scarlett Callahan. Not an intern?” Scarlett shook her head and Alexis, who had previously been working at her desk and pretending not to eavesdrop, slapped a hand over her mouth. Mike turned around and shot her a look. She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair to watch the show.

  “Not even close. I will take you up on your offer, though. I’d like to get a little closer to this case.” Mike rubbed a hand through his hair and the big, tough guy even managed to look a little sheepish.

  The sound of a throat clearing behind her made Scarlett jump. “Hey guys.” Jordan held a piece of paper in one hand while the other remained in his front sweatshirt pocket. “Thought you might want to see this.”

  Parker and Alexis rose to join them but Scar
lett snagged the paper out of Jordan’s hand first. “Whoa. You left the programmer’s cave to bring it to us. Must be important.” Scarlett studied it and beamed. “You got it. Nice work Jordan.”

  “Explain?” Alexis said, craning her neck to read over Scarlett’s shoulder. Scarlett gave her the print out. “Mike and I chatted earlier—thank you, Mike—and I realized something. We had the charity check every computer login and history of each employee and there was no trace of a hack. Jordan’s just been plugging the holes he can find, hoping he’s fixing the right one.”

  Mike leaned against a table. “Couldn’t it have come from outside?”

  Scarlett pointed at the paper. “You’d think so. But Jordan couldn’t find a way in. They keep their system on a sort of lockdown with really limited access if you aren’t physically on-site or don’t have a company computer. Getting access to the right computers is easiest to do on-site. Small problem, though. The records from the controlled computers were reviewed and we didn’t find anything. But that’s not the good part. The good part is that there is a visitor computer where every single person who comes into the charity to volunteer or visit has to log in.”

  Parker crossed his arms. “And that one isn’t under the same rules as the rest of the network.”

  “Because they wanted to make it easy for visitors to sign in,” Scarlett said.

  Jordan nodded. “Exactly. It’s not a great set-up but it’s not the first time I’ve seen it. The guest computer is connected to the network, which gave our hacker access.”

  Scarlett smiled. “Bingo.”

  “Nice work, you guys,” Mike said. “That’s something we can work with. What’s next, Jordan?”

  Jordan smiled. “It’s already done. Their IT team upped the security on the visitor computer. And now I know where to go looking for the malicious code.”