Authors: Peter Jay Black
With a few choice swear words – that Wren must now have been expert in – Slink yanked off the spring shoes, leapt to his feet, grabbed the door handle and pulled himself through just in time.
Jack punched the air in triumph. ‘Brilliant, Slink. Freakin brilliant.’
‘Cheers,’ came the cool reply.
Jack turned and ran to the exit.
• • •
Back at ground level, Jack tiptoed up the alleyway, all the while scanning for agents or signs of movement. He ducked behind the same van Charlie had hidden behind earlier. ‘Slink?’
‘Almost there,’ Slink whispered.
Jack heard him unscrewing an air vent and dropping into the security room.
The minutes dragged like hours.
Finally, Slink said, ‘Done.’
Jack breathed into the mic, ‘Obi? We good?’
‘Looks OK.’
Slink had connected a USB stick to their security computer and the program Jack had written was now working its magic.
Another thirty seconds later Obi said, ‘I’m reconnected to their cameras. Taking them offline. Recording looped.’
So far, so good,
Jack thought. Their security was weaker than he’d expected.
He straightened up and casually walked out from behind the van. He reached the door with the keypad and counted off the seconds. ‘Three, two, one.’
There was a click and the lock disengaged. Jack couldn’t help but smile as he turned the handle and slipped through.
Inside, he hurried up the stairs to the first floor. He silently opened the door and peered into the hallway – empty. Jack hurried down the corridor, checking each room in turn. At the end, he reached an intersection and froze. A radio was playing somewhere to his right.
‘Left, Jack,’ Obi said. ‘Three rooms down.’
Jack glanced up at the security camera, then hurried down the hallway. He grabbed the office door handle, held his breath, opened it and stuck his head inside.
‘Charlie.’
She was tied to a chair, bound and gagged. Her eyes went wide as she realised who it was. Jack hurried over to her and pulled the gag from her mouth. ‘Trap,’ she hissed.
Jack spun round as the massive agent stepped in front of the open door.
A side door opened and another agent in a black suit stood silhouetted in the light. ‘Good morning, Achilles.’
Jack glanced around the room. He was sitting at a metal table. There were no windows, no cameras and only one door. He listened but could only hear the low hum of the air conditioning. Cable ties bound his wrists and ankles to a chair. He struggled against the bindings, but it was useless.
The door opened and the lead agent stepped into the room. His cold eyes met Jack’s and didn’t waver as he sat down opposite him. He dropped a thick folder on to the table and stared at Jack, as if he could see deep into his soul.
Jack kept his expression neutral, almost vacant. The man could stare all he wanted. He had no power. He was just another stupid adult in an ignorant world. If they managed to put Jack in a children’s home again, he’d escape. That simple. But somehow Jack knew the agent wanted more. The only thing was, what?
‘My name is Agent Connor.’ There was another long silence before he finally opened the folder in front of him. As he spoke, Connor took time to pronounce each syllable, as if adding weight to his words. ‘So, Achilles,’ he glanced up. ‘You are
the
Achilles, aren’t you?’
On the outside, Jack managed to keep his expression unreadable. Inside was a different matter. How did this man know who he was? How had they linked Jack with his alias? He was invisible. Had someone grassed him up? He thought of Charlie. No way would she have given them Jack’s hacker name. Then who? How?
Connor’s eyes drifted back to the folder. ‘You’ve been a naughty boy.’ He tapped the file. ‘It says here that Achilles is responsible for some major damage over the years. There are a lot of people who would be interested in talking to you.’ Connor’s lip curled. ‘The world-renowned hacker.’
Jack’s heart sank. This meant his face was now on file too.
Agent Connor cleared his throat and continued to read a list of Jack’s crimes, but Jack didn’t listen; he was remembering his time in the home. The other kids. The tatty furniture ruined by a thousand children. The threadbare carpets. The permanent smell of urine from wet beds. Things like that stuck with you.
Oh, sure, over the years they’d tried to find him a family, but he’d always wound up back in that smelly, noisy home. If there was such a thing as Lady Luck, she never smiled at him.
Jack’s salvation had come from an unlikely source. He remembered the first time Mrs Waverly allowed him to use her computer in the office of the children’s home. He remembered that feeling of wonder, the magic, the way that simple box could open the entire world to him. Take him anywhere. Show him anything. He was a digital explorer, and the internet taught him more than he could ever learn in school.
Once Jack had been everywhere the connection would allow, he wanted to go further, but Mrs Waverly thought he was spending way too much time on the computer and banned him from the office.
Jack was devastated. The internet was his world, his escape. So, he’d resorted to clandestine measures. He had to. No choice. Countless nights he’d crept downstairs to the office, locked the door, turned the brightness on the monitor to low and connected to his world.
That’s how it had all started – playing, learning, experimenting, teaching himself code. But, over the months and years, he wound up wanting more. His appetite for knowledge had grown into something bigger than he was.
That’s when Jack had started to get good at circumventing security systems, pushing through firewalls, planting extra code where no one would find it. Opening backdoors. With this came a reputation but no name to attach it to. At first, he’d not wanted to declare himself, but, over time, he’d realised that he could learn from others, be part of a community, finally belong somewhere and mean something.
Achilles was born.
Jack remembered that day as clear as anything – the moment he’d chosen his alias.
Months before, he’d been browsing the River forum and had come across a discussion on a new type of encryption. It was supposed to be impossible to break. To Jack, it was a challenge he couldn’t refuse. He hadn’t really expected to get anywhere with it, but much to his surprise, three months later, he had it cracked. He couldn’t quite explain it. He just could
see
the code.
When Jack returned to the River forum to publish the results, he needed a name. He’d chosen Achilles because he’d used a Trojan – a bad program hidden inside a seemingly good program – to get behind the firewall.
The Trojan horse, the battle of Troy and the Greek Achilles.
Agent Connor slammed his fists on the table. ‘I’m talking,’ he shouted.
Jack snapped out of his thoughts and focused on the man opposite him.
The agent looked enraged. A vein pulsed in his neck and sweat glistened on his brow. ‘Am I boring you?’
Jack shrugged. ‘A little.’ He didn’t want to discuss any of it. ‘Where’s my friend?’
‘Ah, yes, Pandora.’ Connor flipped through the file. ‘We have her listed as perpetrating a few crimes.’ He looked up. ‘What’s her real name?’
Jack didn’t answer.
They’d linked Charlie to her alias too? How?
Agent Connor continued, ‘Is she your girlfriend? Have you got delusions of being the next Bonnie and Clyde?’
Jack ground his teeth. ‘We’re friends.’
Connor closed the folder, sat back and crossed his arms.
Jack let out the tiniest of breaths. It seemed there wasn’t anything about Slink, Obi or Wren in that file. At least they were safe. For now anyway.
A smile tugged the corners of Connor’s lips. ‘So, Achilles, what should I do with you?’
Jack remained tight-lipped. He wasn’t about to give this smug git the satisfaction of seeing any fear or emotion.
After a moment, the smile faltered and Agent Connor said, ‘I didn’t think Achilles would be a pathetic –’ he looked Jack up and down with contempt – ‘
child
.’
Jack’s fists clenched and the plastic bindings bit into his flesh. He wanted nothing more than to punch the guy in the face. He held back his anger, still trying to show no outward emotion. ‘Should I take the fact you thought I’d be older as flattery?’
‘No.’ Connor straightened his tie. ‘You ran into my trap. Someone with a little more . . .
maturity
wouldn’t have been so stupid.’
Rage now tugged at Jack’s insides, and it took every shred of will power to keep calm. That was what Connor wanted – for Jack to lose the plot. It was part of his game. Jack continued to grind his teeth. ‘What do you want?’
Connor cocked an eyebrow at him. ‘I have what I want. You. Here. Caught. I told you, you’ve caused a lot of damage.’
‘Not to you.’
Connor’s eyes narrowed. ‘And how would you know that?’
‘I picked the targets carefully.’ That was true, though sometimes he did wonder about the bigger picture. In war there were always innocents caught in the crossfire.
Connor let out a slow breath. ‘The thing is, Achilles, your presence here suggests you know too much. We can’t have you running around.’ He leant forward in his chair, locked his eyes with Jack’s. ‘It ends here.’
So
, Jack thought,
he thinks I know too much, does he
? They saw Jack as a threat. Perhaps Obi was right after all.
Jack allowed that thought to relax him a little. ‘Proteus,’ he said, and watched the reaction.
Connor’s eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth to answer but there was a knock at the door.
The female agent stepped into the room. ‘Sir?’
Connor didn’t take his eyes off Jack. ‘Agent Cloud?’
‘You have a call.’
‘Take a message.’
Cloud hesitated. ‘It’s
urgent
, sir.’
By the way she said ‘urgent’ Jack knew it was from someone higher up the government ladder.
Connor looked at her. Finally, he let out a grunt of annoyance and stood. ‘You and Agent Monday take this –’ he waved a dismissive hand at Jack – ‘
brat
to the holding room.’ Connor stormed past her and down the corridor.
Agent Monday, the giant man, came in, cut Jack’s bindings and lifted him to his feet. He and Cloud took Jack down the corridor to another room. Monday shoved him inside and slammed the door shut.
There was a click as the electronic lock engaged.
‘Jack.’ Charlie rushed forward.
‘Are you OK?’ he said.
‘I’m fine.’ She glanced around. ‘Bored of this place though.’
Jack sat on the floor cross-legged, rested his hands on his knees, and closed his eyes.
‘Jack?’ Charlie said, a note of concern in her voice. ‘What are you doing?’
He opened his eyes and gestured to the floor in front of him. ‘Sit.’
Charlie folded her arms. ‘You’re giving up?’
Jack gestured again. ‘
Sit down
.’
Charlie huffed and sat opposite him.
Jack closed his eyes again and took calming breaths, as if preparing to enter a Zen-like state.
Charlie said, ‘Why are we sitting down, Jack?’
Jack kept his eyes closed. ‘I’m waiting for a solution to present itself.’
‘What solution?’
Jack opened his eyes and pressed a finger to his lips.
Charlie frowned and her mouth opened to say something else but she stopped. A Bluetooth headset lowered in front of Jack’s face, dangling from a gossamer strand of fishing wire.
They both looked up and could just make out Slink’s face peering through the air conditioning vent.
Jack untied the headset and clipped it to his ear. ‘Any problems?’
‘Nope,’ came Slink’s cool reply.
‘Continue as planned.’
Slink’s face disappeared into the darkness.
Charlie looked astonished.
Jack cocked his head. ‘You didn’t think I’d just walk into a trap, did you?’
Charlie punched him on the arm.
‘Ouch. What was that for?’
‘Next time, just get me out of here quicker, OK?’ She stood and dusted herself off. ‘I’m hungry. Let’s go.’
Jack got to his feet and they walked to the door. ‘Obi,’ he whispered into the earpiece.
‘Here. Their security is rubbish.’ The light on the door turned from red to green. ‘See?’
Jack reached for the handle and hesitated.
Charlie said, ‘What’s wrong?’
‘It doesn’t feel right. Why’s it so easy?’
‘It
hasn’t
been easy,’ Slink’s voice reminded him through his headset.
Jack shrugged off the feeling, held his breath and opened the door just enough to peer into the corridor. It was empty. He squinted up at the security camera. ‘You got the CCTV?’ he asked Obi.