“No, but there aren’t that many people with this kind of access. Pretty soon I’ll be able to work by process of elimination. I’m still reviewing people associated with past operations, and the organization behind Joshua Tremaine is still on my radar, big-time.”
A grumble goes around the table. Yeah, we remember that asshole. He blew up my parents’ house. The folks at Wimberley tried to go in on the larger organization and we lost teammates. The data had been horked all around.
“Don’t forget that he was working for a much bigger syndicate, and with Wimberley’s help, we were able to take down quite a bit of that.”
“Quite a bit? But not all?” DeShaun asks.
“Accurate. We’re discovering an even larger network at play, likely global. We did some damage regionally, but…yeah. And since the data keeps getting fucked with, it’s possible another person in the Marshals unit has been compromised.”
Everett shakes his head. “Then why even bother with that data? There are a million bad guys out there to choose from.”
Ronan scratches his temple. “Because there’s a real possibility that we’re being targeted.”
Everett continues, “So are we to assume that the mole knows how we’re using the Marshals’ information and is specifically fucking with us? Again, why the hell chance it?”
Jake fields that question. “Keeping the files active continues to engage the person or program and gets us closer to identifying the source of the problem.”
“At this point, why do we care? Can’t we just move on?” Omar asks.
“Not quite. If we can determine that a program was used to go in and make small random changes to a bunch of files, then that’s dangerous but recoverable. If, however, we can verify that we are being targeted, then the person is in a position to not only throw us off our game, they have enough to put us all in jail for the rest of our lives.”
Everyone around the table shifts uncomfortably. Because of the way we operate, it’s easy to get complacent about the fact that what we’re doing is highly illegal, and that all it takes is a single call to the authorities by one well-informed person and we’re toast.
“How do they know which people we’re going after? Does this mean that they have access to our files?”
Jake holds out his palm, shaking his head. “No. Our data cannot be breached for many reasons, the main one being that I don’t keep our files on the same network for any length of time.”
Ronan speaks up. “It wouldn’t be hard for them to figure out who we would go after. When I was talking to DB and thinking about joining the group, I had in mind five or six people that immediately needed to be taken out. He came back to me with a list that included most of those same people. Somebody in marketing might talk about a company’s known goods. Well, the Marshals have knownbads. And whether they’re officially on the most-wanted list or in our head, we just know who they are.”
Anders snorts. “So this may be a personal attack on us or the Marshals, or it might be revenge for what happened in East Texas.”
I make eye contact with my brother and know he’s thinking the same thing. Our association with Wimberley gives us an extra layer of protection that nobody else in this room has. Not DeShaun, not Omar. Everyone here is vulnerable to the whims of whoever is messing with the data.
“Is there anything we can do to help?” Rafi asks.
“Honestly, keep going on missions.”
Everyone in the room hums in agreement. We like taking these motherfuckers down.
Anders asks the question that’s on all of our minds. “All right, then, who’s next?”
Jake gestures to Ronan, who takes control of the interactive panel on the table.
“We’ve got an equal opportunity campaign donor who gives enough that whoever is in charge tends to look the other way. He also runs an underage escort service out of his estate.”
“Fuck that guy,” I mutter under my breath. People who exploit kids can die all of the deaths.
“Obviously,” Ronan says, the venom in his voice incongruent with his typically sweet demeanor.
Rafi—also sweet, also no bullshit—asks, “Is this one of those obnoxious dicks with a ton of celebrity friends and a private island somewhere?”
“Swap the island for an enormous swath of ranchland and you’ve got it right on the nose. He’s off I-10 about two hours west of here.”
Thane grumbles. “What about the celebrities? Is anyone taking them down?”
Looking through the data popping up on the in-table screens, I move a few things around. “Wait, is this the seventeen-person douche canoe who moved into the area after he named, like, seven celebrities, including the guy who was on that family show in the nineties?”
Ronan snarls when he answers. “Yes. He anonymously gave up names in exchange forhouse arrest. He was still running his business, even with the goddamn ankle bracelet on. But he got that off last year and has only gotten worse with his restored freedom.”
