Page 15 of Savage Ruin
The rootkit on the software is active. Right now. Fascinated, I follow the path I established into the heart of the enemy’s computer. Unfortunately, the web cam is blocked, but I can see the code they’re reviewing. It’s the dummy code I’d installed on the flash drive. I can’t help but smirk.
They’re scrolling slowly through the lines, probably looking for some indication of its authenticity. It’s a pretty good fake. The only way they’ll know whether it works or not is if they test it.
“Wow, you really went all out to convince them it’s the real deal,” Mateo states with surprise.
“Honestly, we had extra code from tests that failed, which enabled me to create something quickly. I wasn’t sure if it would work, but it needed to be convincing enough for them to install and test it out. At the very least, I hoped it would buy us time or insight.”
Digging around in the directory, I find a lot of boring stuff. Going into the control panel, I dive into the advanced settings until I find “Show hidden files, folders, and drives.” Presto! A slew of files appears. They all have names on them, like Emma, Amala, Hieu, Garrett, and so forth.
Opening the first one, I find software code and scan through it. A signature pops up in the meta description tag. I scan through the code, and it looks completely legitimate.
I quickly move to another folder labeled “Amala.” It’s also code. I open it and scan the information in the head tag until I find the meta description tag.
“Do you think he stole all these ideas?” Mateo’s outraged voice brings me out of my rabbit hole.
“I’m not sure. Dr. Langford is one of the best algorithm professors at MIT. Since my scholarship was based on the algorithm I developed, they assigned him to me as my advisor, although I only ever met with his grad assistant. I couldn’t wait to attend his class, but I never got the chance because I left after my sophomore year.”
His finger sweeps down the folder. “Look.”
The folder is labeled “Henley”, and with trepidation, I open it. The banking algorithm I developed is in the folder, but I’m not outraged. “MIT published my code when I won the scholarship. It wasn’t stolen.”
I peruse the code but find nothing different from the one I created. There are additional files in the folder, so I glance through them until I find a pretty extensive chunk of code. Pieces of my work embedded within a slew of new lines. Intrigued, I scan the code to figure out how they built upon my original idea. When I see the commands in the code, I begin to get an inkling of what I’m looking at.
“Son of a...”
“What is it?” Mateo asks.
“I think it’s the code they used to play the shell game with your money. The code builds off my original idea, but they expanded it to create this massive new algorithm. The work is impeccable, but there is no way they could do this quickly. This is the type of project one works on for a year or two.” I turn the screen toward him and point out the new areas of code, which are quite extensive.
He whistles. “Going back to the others, let’s write down the student’s name and find out when they attended MIT. See if there’s a common denominator.”
Surprised, I look at him. “You’re not just a handsome face, are you?” He looks surprised when I lean over and give him a quick kiss on the lips. “Got a pen and paper?”
It’s tedious work, but we knock it out quickly. Then, we pull up the MIT archives and search for the names on our list.
“They all attended the same years I did, although they were a year or two ahead of me,” I state, stunned by the information. “I wonder if we should find them and ask whether their work was stolen or simply picked up after publishing. Maybe we’ll find something in common besides MIT, algorithms, and Dr. Langford.”
Pulling up Google, I start to search for the first name, but Mateo closes the lid. “Tomorrow. You need to rest or Thiago’s going to come down on both of us.” He points to where Thiago stands in the doorway.
I purse my lips, contemplating defiance, but cave when I realize how tired I am from the long day. “Fine.” I hold my hands up for Mateo to help me. “Take me to bed or lose me forever, Goose.”
Mateo looks confused, but I hear a snort come from Thiago. Interesting. The man loves his movies and not just the spy thrillers, either.
CHAPTER9
HENLEY
My heart’s pounding and my entire body is clammy when I wake around midnight. The nightmares prey on me like my stalker once I fall into a deep sleep. Carefully sliding my feet to the floor, I continue to lie flat until my legs can support my weight, then sort of slide off while lifting my body. I inhale sharply when the expectant pain pierces my side, but surprisingly, it eases quickly, and I shuffle my way to the restroom.
When I come out, the light by my bed is on and Thiago’s standing beside it with his hands on his hips and a scowl on his face. “Why didn’t you call me to come help?”
Easing down onto the bed, I wave off his concern. “It’s fine, really. I need to start trying to do things on my own. Go back to bed, Thiago.”
He pulls the covers up for me and reaches over to turn off the light.
“Leave it on,” I bite out, my tone sharp. Softening it, I tack on some manners. “Please.”
His dark eyes are sharp while they assess me. “Nightmares?”
