Page 11 of Hacked For Love
He must have broken into their security system and stolen this image. No way would he be able to get the information this fast any other way—not evenbribery.
I know you’re in Seattle. I know you’re making cold-wallet Bitcoin purchases with my money and sending them to individuals and families throughout the city. I’m assuming they are part of your seventhousand.
I sit very still, just staring at the screen.How did he find me sofast?
A chat message pops up with another photo—it’s me again, and this time, it’s very clear. Cute little me from almost a decade ago—innocent, smiling, well-dressed, and veryblonde.
You were a cute kid, Miss Locke. I’m sure you’re lovely now, and I suspect that you have noble aims. But you’re not walking off with a third of a billion of my money without a face-to-face.
I sit there shivering in a mix of anger, embarrassment, and fear as he gives me an address and a time. It’s an upscale bar and grilldowntown.
Tonight. It’s nice and public. You’ll be quite safe. But if you don’t show up, I will findyou.
How...?I think numbly, and then I sit back and close my eyes.He’s gotme.
I’ll see youthere.
Guess I’m going todinner.
Chapter6
Drake
“All right. I don’t want to go to this meeting blind. I want every single detail you’ve dug up on Robin Locke, and I mean everything. I don’t care how boring or trivial it seems.” I look at Laura as she sits across the desk from me, and she nods, typing a few commands into herlaptop.
“I’ll send you the compilation I have right now and then anything else I find before eight this evening. Are you sure about meeting this woman?” Laura looks back up at meworriedly.
I let out a hearty laugh. “I’m really not that worried, Laura,” I reassure. “I’ll be armed, John will be in shouting distance, and from what you have been able to pick up so far, our hacker is a loner, or has been since Spider’s Web wentdown.”
Laura nods and lets out a soft sigh. “I just don’t entirely trust these anarchistic types. You never really know what a hacker is going to do. Orwhy.”
I sit back in my desk chair and check my computer for her forwarded files, opening them one byone.
Robin Locke, age 24, Americanized British citizen. Born in Washington, D.C. on March 8, 1994 to a British diplomat and his wife. Parents died in a car accident when she was twelve. Custody was granted to Wentworth Locke, her paternal uncle, and all property was transferred into hisname.
“So why wasn’t she brought back to Britain? Or did her uncle comehere?”
“Briefly,” Laura replies, and there’s such a strangely grim tone to her voice that I immediately start reading again. She’s filled in the notes with more information as she collects it. There’s a lot more detailnow.
Wentworth Locke sold all US properties held by the family, liquidated all assets and took a private plane back to London three months after his brother’s death. It was presumed that Robin went with him. But Robin’s paperwork for British repatriation was never submitted, she was never admitted to school, and she has no medical records inBritain.
My eyes widen. This part is new, and it makes our little anarchist’s rage make sudden, terrible sense. “Am I reading here that the man left her behind on thestreets?”
“There’s little if any evidence that she spent any time in London. That winter, she was admitted to D.C.’s public hospital with severe pneumonia, malnutrition, and exposure.” Laura winces as she sees myface.
“He robbed her. He robbed her and dumped her.” I blink slowly, staring at the lines of text in front of me.Riches to rags...a talented young girl from a wealthy family, dumped and pretty much left to die. No wonder she has a vendetta against therich.
And that has me wondering about her pledge to save thousands of lives with her stolen money. She likes movies, apparently.A Fistful of Dollars, Robin Hood.Of course, the second one would stick with her, given the name her parents gaveher.
And of course, after what she’s been through, that story’s morals would have stuck,too.
“Every last one of the donations we traced went to a family or individual facing homelessness or destitution, right?” I askthoughtfully.
“That’s right. If she disposed of the rest the same way, she’s basically practicing some kind of...guerrilla charity.” Laura sounds baffled, but I just smile, because that’s exactly what itis.
My little movie buff. Steal from the rich, give to thepoor.
It’s starting to get hard to stay mad at her. I’m still planning to turn this situation to my advantage, but...perhaps she can be part of that—in a non-antagonisticway.
