Page 8 of Hacked For Love
The belly wound. Defensive scars on the outsides of my arms. A slash across my back. And the patches where, by request, I removed some of the tattoos that signified my membership and rank in thebratva.
You don’t just get to buy your way out, even though I handed over to them the first billion that I evermade.
The cross on my chest they’d wanted taken off the old-fashioned way: with the rough side of a brick. I stood there and scraped it off myself as they held a funeral for me, knowing that if I failed to sever ties correctly then I would fill the coffin they had brought. The bow tie with the dollar sign across my collarbones is gone now, too; the flesh is still a little raw. That one, like the stars on my shoulders, they let me removenormally.
The rose and knife, the dove with the olive branch over my heart, and the snarling skull on my shoulder I’d had colored by a professional once the others were all gone. Now they remind me of my past, without looking too much like prison tattoos. As unreal as that time feels, I must never forgetit.
I’ve changed my life—hell, I’ve even changed my name—but I will never allow myself to forget how I got to where Iam.
My cellphone chirps at me: Laura. I connect the video call before going back to puffing away. “Good morning! What have you got forme?”
“Our thief is spending and trading at least some of the stolen Bitcoin off the blockchain.” Her announcement is an exasperated sigh, sounding just a touch tinny because she’s put me onspeakerphone.
“In English!” John grumbles in the background, and Isnort.
“You can take Bitcoin and load them onto a hard drive, a thumb drive, or other device, and trade or spend them offline at a lot of brick and mortar stores these days especially in major urban centers. If you do that, those Bitcoin stay out of the system until the store spends them again, at which point they re-enter the blockchain and their movements start being recorded again. It’s called a cold-walletpurchase.”
“So, it’s like walking around with cash. Until that money gets put back into someone else’s account the banking system doesn’t recognize it.” John nods slowly, brows drawntogether.
I hear Laura sipping tea. “Mmhmm! That is what I have been monitoring for—the moment any of our missing Bitcoin pop upagain.”
This is starting to sound hopeful.“And some of them have?” I ask in a controlledtone.
Laura sounds excited despite her obvious exhaustion. “Yes, as of fifteen minutes ago. And right here in Seattle,too.”
“Who would do this?” I mutter. I didn’t leave behind enemies in thebratva,or much of anywhere as far as I know. So why is thishappening?
“I’ve been going through a list of potential suspects with John over breakfast,” Laura says a little distractedly as she types. “None of them have enough interest in technology to pull this off or would even know who to hire to pull thisoff.”
They’re having breakfast together?I dismiss the thought with a little shake of my head. “Forget that. Maybe we should stop focusing on who I might have pissed off and look instead at how the money is beingused.”
“You think that maybe the thief’s got a cause in mind?” Johnmuses.
“If whoever is behind this is taking this big a risk by spending any of the money this soon, there has to be some urgency behindit.”
More typing, and then Laura gasps slightly as I keep marching away on myelliptical.
“What is it?” I puff, muscles straining. The stripe of scar tissue across my back pulls again as I swing my arms. I ignoreit.
“A child’s bedroom set,” Laura murmurs. “A wheelchair. Buildingsupplies.”
I slow down. “That doesn’t make anysense.”
“I know,” Laura says quietly. “But there itis.”
“You think our thief’s stealing to support his family?” John soundsdubious.
“Not to the tune of over a billion dollars,” I drawl. But now I’m intrigued. “Keep digging,” I instruct Laura. “I want to know as much as possible on how this money is beingspent.”
“I’ll devote all my time to it,” shepromises.
“Wait a second. Brick and mortar. You say our thief is going to local stores to buy big ticket items? They have to be delivered somewhere, don’t they?” John sounds excitedsuddenly.
“That is true,” Laura muses. “I’ll get that information, and I’ll see if I can find any security footage from the times of purchase. If none of the recipients have any leads back to our hacker, maybe we can catch their face oncamera.”
It’s definite progress. Feeling optimistic, I open my mouth to give the go-ahead—just as my phone beeps at me. Someone has sent an e-mail to my work account. “Okay, do it,” I say distractedly, bringing up my mailapp.
Then I pause for a long time, staring at my phone, my legs swinging to a stop. It’s from an unfamiliar e-mail address—obviously a throwaway. I open it and blink several times as I read the fewlines.
