Chapter 50: Chapter forty-nine

Present day

 

The Wraith accessed the man’s computer via a remote intrusion tool she had hidden at his home. A team of Program support staff were standing ready at his apartment to provide assistance should she need it. She didn’t, of course. Her computer skills were excellent, and easily up to the challenge of breaking through the man’s security from the safety of her own apartment. Or Gwen’s apartment, she supposed, which Special Agent Branson had helpfully released early so she could use.

That cover had been fun while it lasted, she had even enjoyed the sex, but it was over now. She was finally ready to take her place next to White Knight in the public eye. Her costume was waiting for her back at the Program, and with it, her new life as a ‘superhero’.

She smirked at the idea while she read through the man’s emails. There weren’t many to be had. The man had a folder labelled ‘evidence’ sitting on his desktop with fairly meagre security and it contained everything she would expect to find. Copies of Bryson’s files, photographs and documents taken from MegaSat, and reports that the little detective had stolen from the FBI.

But that had seemed too easy. She hadn’t broken into his computer before because of the danger that he would know or have countermeasures put in place. Now, to finally break in and find everything wrapped up neatly in a little bow, with nothing protecting it. It was stupid. And, whatever else she could say about the man she had bedded and deceived, he wasn’t stupid. His computer skills might have left a lot to be desired, but no, never stupid.

So, she combed through his system to see what she had missed. His emails didn’t seem to hold any answers though.

Then she saw that the drafts folder had one unfinished message in it. That could be something. If two people had the account information for one email address, then they might use the drafts folder to pass messages. Crude and not particularly secure, but it might be the sort of thing this man would do.

The message was addressed to her, or rather, to Gwen. It read:

I always knew. I’m sorry.

A feeling of dread settled into the pit of The Wraith’s stomach as she stared at those words on the monitor. Then, a moment later, there was a flash of light and a thunderous sound from the video link with the support team at the man’s home, before the feed went out altogether. The Wraith turned to run, but the explosion took her before she could take her first step.

Her last thought was to wonder how, given that she swept her apartment for explosives and listening devices every time he was there, he had gotten a bomb into her apartment. Had she had time for another thought, she might have realized that he hadn’t.

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