Dark Web (DARC Ops Book 2) (18 page)

I
t took her awhile
, but eventually she found her way to the light switch, her arms stretched out into the void as she walked like a zombie, shuffling toward the wall opposite the bed. And then, finally—contact—her hands gliding across the concrete wall until she felt the familiar plastic shape. She paused, her fingers resting lightly on the switch. Would flicking it on make any difference? Would the world look any different with the light on, or would she still be shrouded in darkness?

She prepared herself for the worst. In her head, she could hear the medic’s voice, his warning that it was possible she may never regain her vision. God, if she couldn’t ever see again . . . her chest tightened as the fear of that reality settled in.

Stop being such a fucking wimp.

Carly flipped up the switch with a loud snap, and immediately saw the change. A warm amber glow was everywhere, not just a dim red patch where the light bulb was, but all around her. She held her hands before her face and, God, she could see them—rather, their shapes. But there was something, some semblance of hand shapes, and then the room, the walls, the bed, all the details coming into view. A fuzzy, blurry view, but a view nonetheless.

A large analog clock hung above the doorway, but it wasn’t large enough, the numbers and hands still too blurry. It looked as though someone had covered the world with a heavy layer of Vaseline. She looked over to the bed she’s just woken up in. It was empty, Tansy having left sometime while she was asleep. She’d felt him leave the bed a few hours ago, his weight shifting slowly and carefully when she was still half asleep, the mattress seemingly popping up once it was freed from his weight. He was a big guy. Much more muscular than she’d imagined. To sleep next to something like that was comforting in a way she never thought she’d enjoy, or need. His presence helped her sleep, and to fall back asleep whenever she’d woken up. The slow and even sound of his breathing, her own breaths eventually matching as she sunk into oblivion.

They slept like that for most of the night, wordlessly, comfortably.

She’d dreamed that she’d kissed him.

Some vague, short dream. But they kissed, her lips touching his. She just couldn’t remember what happened next.

Maybe they just went to sleep after, like in real life, until he made his early morning getaway. He was probably hard at work with the rest of the hacking team on the operations level. Tansy had mentioned how far behind in work he’d become since his little vacation to a trucker bar in Wells, how much ground he’d have to make up to neutralize the militia’s attacks before they got too malicious. Bribing someone in the FBI was small potatoes compared to what Tansy thought they were planning.

She had no idea what time it was. But at least now she was well-rested—well, she’d had
some
sleep—and she was thinking more clearly. She’d become comfortable with Tansy in person far quicker than she’d ever expected. It had almost been like the last ten years had been merely a few weeks. Her headache had improved overnight, downgraded from feeling like someone was firing mortar rounds straight into her head to more like hitting her head continually against the wall. Amazing how subtle a regular headache could feel after hours of concussive pounding in her brain. Concussive . . . that’s exactly what it had been, she supposed. Carly gently ran her fingers over her face. It was feeling better, too, and the swelling seemed like it had gone down a little. That, and she could finally fucking see something. All in all, for the first time in days, Carly was feeling pretty good about things. Good enough, even, to start feeling curious about what Tansy was working on. It was time to pay the work floor a visit.

The hallway outside of her room was, fortunately, well-lit. She followed it to the end and found a heavy metal door that opened up into the spiral stairwell. There, she could be thankful about something else—handrails. She used them as a guide, firmly grasping the rail with each ascending step. She was also thankful that the operations level was just a few floors above. Moving was making the pounding in her head start up again, and the idea of climbing up as many stairs as they’d traveled down last night was distinctly unappealing. After climbing the stairs slowly, Carly opened the door and took a few careful steps into a room full of . . . things. Hackers and computers. Glowing screens. Her eyes were still fuzzy, but the whir of a hundred cooling fans filled her ears and a slight burnt-plastic smell filled the air. As she took a few furtive steps into the room, blurry heads swiveled toward her. The fuzzy shape of a man approached her from the side—Tansy. He hugged her hello and then introduced her to “the guys,” which started off a series of awkward, half-blind introductions. She had always been terrible at remembering names, matching names to faces. This time the vision problem was a blessing in disguise; everyone’s name was matched to the same type of blur.

“Do you think you can make contact for us?” Tansy asked after the two of them found a quiet work station in the corner of the room. “Are you ready?”

Carly nodded quickly, jerking her head back when the motion threatened to start the head pounding again. She stilled, almost sitting on her hands to stop herself from fidgeting. She was never really going to be ready to talk to the militia contact. Something about his voice. . . . She had spoken with him in the past only out of necessity, just long enough to get the bare minimum of information on how to receive their data packet so she wouldn’t have to talk with him any longer. He’d given her the serious creeps, and that had been before someone had hit her over the head in a parking lot. But now there was a new necessity. Or at least according to Tansy, who insisted as much even after Carly explained she’d always called on a burner phone hooked up through a proxy server. A double mask.

“There’s always a way to find someone,” Tansy said, helping her into a chair. “Proxy or not. Plus, I want to hear what he says.”

“Will you be recording it?”

“Is that okay? We might need it later.”

“So your job is to build the case for the prosecution?”

“Maybe. Our job is very . . . fluid.”

“Fluid?”

“It’s always changing.”

“So in that case, can it skirt around the issue of my involvement?” She watched him as carefully as she could with defective eyes. How was he going to handle the question? Tansy turned to face her directly and he spoke low, picking up one of her hands in his.

“Carly . . . I’ll . . . we’ll protect you. No matter what.”

She wanted so badly to believe it. It was easy to, really, especially since he’d done such a good job of it already. But it was also the way he said it, the way his hand reached out through the blurriness and held on to her.

“Okay,” Carly took in a deep breath. “So what do you need? What do you want me to say?”

“Say you finished your task.”

“But I haven’t.”

“Yes, you have,” he said, squeezing her hand before letting go and turning back to the keyboard. “We made up a bullshit file with the tax info. Now I want to see how he’d like it delivered. If he slips up with his own security, then we can sneak in and infect his whole operation. Then, we hope, we’ll track him down that way.”

“What about the other assignment he talked about?”

“Ask him about it. Ask him what it’s for.”

“I usually don’t ask about the jobs like that.”

“Carly, don’t worry so much. Just talk to him.”

Okay, she could do that. It sounded simple enough. If she didn’t freeze up and stutter like an idiot first.

“So I’ll reach out and prompt him to call me? Right now?”

“Yeah. Make him call you. Right now.”

Five minutes later, she was talking with the youthful if not bratty head of the militia’s cyber warfare division.

“I thought you didn’t want to know who you were hacking,” he said, his tone sounding even more like a twelve-year-old than during their last conversation. “Wasn’t that what you said all along?”

“Well, now that I’m finished, I’d like to know.” Carly focused on the blur of Tansy’s face. She could almost make out the expression on his face—his head was lowered, brow furrowed, and jaw tight. “Is that a problem with you?”

“Don’t be so curious. It might get you in trouble.”

Carly huffed. “Is that some kind of threat?”

“Then again, you’re no stranger to trouble, are you? None of this is a threat, by the way. Just the facts. You past is, shall we say, questionable. That’s why we wanted you.”

She had to fight every urge in her body to not end the call. Or to not drop the phone and stomp it into oblivion.

“Hello? You there?” The juvenile voice kept prodding her.

“Yeah.” Carly bit the inside of her cheek, trying to force her voice to stay level, unaffected. “But I have no idea what you’re talking about. You wanna run that by me again?”

“Your past. It’s dirty.”

It felt like acid was dripping down her spine, a slow, tingling burn, slowly incapacitating her entire body.

“That’s why we picked you,” he said, snickering.

“What?” Her voice had dropped to almost a whisper.

“So we can blackmail you if you decided not to cooperate.”

Carly squeezed her eyes shut as her heart raced, pounding in her chest. In the haziness of her peripheral vision, she could see Tansy’s chair rolling close to hers, as if he was preparing to catch her when she keeled over.

“We’ve got dirt on you, Carly.”

Toughen up. He’s just a kid.

“So you watch the news.” She forced a choked laugh. “Good for you. You’re an informed citizen.”

“Would an informed citizen know about your hard drive? Would they know how it proves that you helped him destroy evidence and cover up your boss’ dirty work?”

Carly’s hand jerked so hard she nearly dropped the phone as panic flooded her mind. She bit down hard on her lip, the pain forcing her focus back to the present as Tansy shifted again beside her and his hand moved to rest lightly on her back.

“I didn’t think so. That seems like some pretty specific stuff, huh? Someone with intimate knowledge. I wonder who would be interested in that kind of knowledge. Can
you
think of anyone?”

No.

A flash of anger paralyzed her voice. She was so fucking sick of her past coming back to haunt her. So sick of Bryce Johnson and the fucking cover-up. Sick of being a hacker again.

“Maybe I could tell the Feds? Maybe even deliver a package?”

Her hand gripped the phone hard, her knuckles turning white. No one else had known what she’d done for Bryce Johnson, not even Tansy when he’d unwittingly helped her. Or so she’d thought. She hadn’t even fully known what she was doing at the time, what she’d done in the supposed name of love. Bryce had kept that from her until it was too late. The secret she’d kept, held back from Tansy all these years, the reason why she’d let him go that night a decade ago, it was all out in the open with one careless comment. Carly was glad she couldn’t see Tansy’s face clearly right now. She couldn’t bear to even look at him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement, Tansy rolling his chair back in front of his own desk. He hunched over a glowing screen and began working, his fingers tapping furiously over the keys. She was relieved to see that, at least. He wasn’t going to let her drown.

“What the fuck do you want?” Maybe she could anger him, trick him into skipping any further humiliation and just get to the point.

“I want to turn you into our most valuable asset.”

“Fuck that.”

“No, no. Don’t make it hard on yourself. All we want you to do is finish the job.”

“What’s the job?”

“You really want to know? You want to break your own rule and know all the details of what—”

“What is it?”

“We just need you to disable a few security systems. Just like your test. That’s all. Help us out and you’ll get your hard drive, and then everyone can go home happy.”

Could she really do it? Would Tansy—let alone his boss—let her continue to work long enough to appease the militia? Maybe this could work. Carly felt her death grip on the phone loosen and the fear strangling her heart draw back minutely . . . until she thought about the building that the test had focused on. It was government. And then Tansy’s recounting of the siege he’d almost been a part of out in the desert. They’d had something wired with heavy explosives out there. Then the gun pointing right in her face.

No. The militia wasn’t going to let her—let anyone—calmly walk away from this. What were they gearing up to? It had to be something huge. Her mind jumped to news clips of Oklahoma City, the half-standing Federal Building. The children in the second-floor daycare center. Mangled tricycles and burnt teddy bears. Her hand flew around her stomach as she bent over, trying not to gag.

“You have two days,” the voice said. “Then we’ll meet for the exchange.” He ended the call before Carly could respond. She had nothing to say.

Tansy swung around in his chair to face her. “I think we need to talk.”

* * *

T
ansy guided
her up to the main level, the ranch house. He was silent the entire way, not saying a single world until they reached the outside. Carly stepped out onto the back deck. The midday heat was deadly strong, but there was at least the faint pleasure of fresh air on her face. It was probably the only pleasure she’d get out here, or anywhere.