“Initiate shutdown protocol nine, one, seven, six, nine, six.”
“Initiating shutdown protocol nine,” an AI voice comes through my speakers.
I hold up my hands in surrender and drop to my knees as I’ve seen the crooks do in the movies. The two men in front of me move at speed, one coming for me, the other heading for my computer. Although he’ll be too late. Daphne’s program has wiped my hard drive and any evidence they would have hoped to have found.
He hits a few keys to try to stop what he knows is happening, but once the protocol starts, nothing and no one can stop it. It’s how I designed it. I may only be twenty-one, but I’ve been doing this a long time, and I’m good.
He turns to stare at me, but I shrug as his partner pulls my hands behind my back and secures them with handcuffs.
“Penelope Dawson, you are under arrest for unlawfully breaking into the systems of Redbourne Pharmaceuticals. Youdo not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you don’t say anything when questioned...”
He continues on and on, and I nod when he asks if I have understood.
His partner makes a call.
“Get the IT guys in here. We need to bag up the electronics.”
They can bag up whatever they like. They won’t find a scrap of evidence. Not here at least, but I’ve been careless, which is not like me. I’m usually paranoid about security and ensuring I leave no trail. But then my mind was elsewhere, which is not surprising. It’s not every day your best friend announces he’s marrying his pregnant girlfriend and shatters your heart into a billion pieces. I should have known better.
The roomI’m placed in is stark.
I sit back and take in my surroundings. Plain walls, a battered table, and a few chairs. A camera sits high on the wall, a light flashing, letting me know it’s recording my every move.
I’ve spoken to enough hackers online to know the drill. It’s a misconception that we’re loners. We’re a very close-knit community. At least, the ethical ones are. I stay away from the dark web as much as possible.
The rules of engagement with police. I know staying quiet is my best option. Being tripped up is everyone’s downfall, as in all the good detective shows. The criminal can’t help but mess up their story, and then the police have them. And I love a good detective show. I also like the silence of being in my head. I rerun the night in question, replaying every move, keystroke. What did I miss? One benefit of having a photographic memory is I can at least recall what I did. Then it hits me.
Fuck!
I can’t have been that careless.
Shit!
I led them straight to my door. A trickle of sweat runs down my spine. I need to get my story straight and fast. Convince the men and women I know are coming to question me that I’ve been busy working on my dissertation for weeks and weeks, end of story.
The door opens, and I look up. I draw in a deep breath as the last person I expect to see enters.
“That will be all, officer.”
The door shuts behind him and two minutes later, the light on the camera blinks off.
“Penelope Dawson, what have you done?”
My chest tightens, and my face, neck, and ears feel impossibly hot.
Robert Frazer pulls out a chair and takes a seat opposite me. The man, like his son, is a giant. The only person to rival Elijah on the height front. His presence is imposing.
I drop my gaze to the table in front of me, drawing circles with my nails on the surface.
Undeterred, Robert continues.
“You’re in deep trouble, young lady. Hacking into Redbourne Pharmaceuticals. What on earth possessed you?”
My eyes flick to the camera, which is still off.
As if sensing my unease, Robert sits back.
“It’s okay, we’re alone.”
