“I’m not pissed at you. I’m pissed at Lex.”
“Why?”
“Because even now, he’s keeping you in the dark.”
A sudden epiphany dissipates my confusion, but I refuse to believe it at first. Does he know? Did he figure out that Lex really is Nammota?
“What do you know?” I ask.
Probably alerted by my wariness, it’s his turn to become suspicious. His eyebrows come together, and he asks, “What doyouknow?”
“You first.”
He looks around, making sure no one’s paying attention to us, and leans forward to whisper, “LexisNammota.”
So, my intuition was right. “How long have you known?”
“Maybe four years.”
Holy fuck. I thought he’d put two and two together with Lex’s arrest, but apparently not. “How did—how did you realize?”
“I was working late, catching up on something, and when I left the office, I heard someone in the break room. I went to check and saw Lex on the Donkey Kong machine. I didn’t think much of it then, but the whole high score thing happened, and I connected the dots. And you, how do you know?”
“He told me. When we started dating again, he told me everything. He wanted to make sure I knew what I was getting into.”
“That’s good. I’m glad you knew before everything blew up.”
“It was better that way, yes. Did you ever tell anyone about it?” I wonder.
“No. Not before today.”
“It must have been difficult to keep that secret.”
“I didn’t want to betray him. I was never close to Lex, but I owe a lot to Nammota.”
“A lot?”
“You’re aware of his second hit, the one on StarCare?”
Of course I am. It’s probably my favorite cyber heist Lex ever did—and it’s a big hit among Nammota fans, too. About ten years ago, a series of scandals and complaints erupted about StarCare, one of the biggest healthcare insurers in the country. Millions of people relied on them, but after a few edits to their policies, the insurance giant had massively denied thousands of requests, leaving entire families with hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt.
True to his Robin Hood nature, Nammota had stepped in, repairing the unfairness with some karmic retribution of his own. Adroitly hacking into the offshore bank accounts of StarCare’s CEO, Norman Becker, as well as the main shareholders, Lex had gathered millions upon millions of dollars, which he had then used to liquidate the debts of the wrongfully ignored families. The huge media coverage nearly drove StarCare to bankruptcy, but they somehow weaseled their way out of that mess with a lot of PR stunts and are now the second biggest insurer.
“Yeah, I know about it,” I tell Oli.
“My dad was in a nasty car accident, and even though he wasn’t responsible for it, StarCare refused to pay his medical bills. It ran up to over half a million, which we couldn’t even remotely cover. My family was among the ones Nammota helped. Thanks to him, I got to go to college, as did my sister, and my parents are debt-free. Plus, I gained a strong appreciation for ethical hacking.”
I’m speechless for a moment, touched by Oli’s story. There was reverence in his voice the whole time, so I don’t doubt that his appreciation of Nammota—Lex—is genuine.
“He’s the reason you started hacking.”
“Exactly. I’d never betray Nammota by revealing his identity to anyone.”
“Does Lex know?” I wonder.
“I don’t think so, no. My dad was just a name, a security number, and an amount of money. I doubt Lex ever linked me to him, and I also don’t think he remembers every single person he’s helped over the years.”
“I wouldn’t put it past him,” I mumble.
