Jessica R. Patch

Secret Service Setup


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Evan’s task force. Her emotions were all over the place. Fear of seeing Evan. Irritation that she’d been attracted all over again. Depressed at how things ended the way they had. Bitterness over how he was propelling into her dreams when he didn’t deserve them. The anger from his questioning her performance earlier had dissipated, leaving her with confusion. She’d never compromise her job.

      Except the time she had for him. And it had cost her dearly.

      Why would someone hack her phone and involve her? Unless she was a target, too. But no shot had been directed at her, so what was that all about?

      “Hey.” Beckett Marsh’s wife, Aurora, walked out onto the porch and handed her a to-go cup of coffee—the good stuff from her new coffee shop in the business district downtown, Sufficient Grounds 2.0, named after her original café that had burned down when she lived in Hope, Tennessee. “Amy and I brought coffee and pastries. Of course, I think Amy just wanted to see Wheezer.”

      Even their computer analyst had found love.

      “I met Evan.” Aurora had become a good friend and Jody had confided in her about him and their past.

      “I’m fine.”

      “So that’s why you’re out here alone while everyone else is inside.” Aurora grinned and sipped her coffee. “I know his coming here has unearthed a million feelings, but maybe it’s a chance to put the past behind you and move forward.”

      Jody didn’t want a deep discussion about moving forward and happily-ever-afters. She didn’t believe in those anymore—didn’t believe in heroes who loved and died sacrificially. She’d learned that in Afghanistan when her best friend had been assaulted by someone she trusted. Someone who was supposed to be an officer and a gentleman. Turned out they were few and far between. The assault was swept under the rug, and Jody had been blacklisted and demoted when she wouldn’t let it go. But it had really become clear when Evan betrayed her and her happily-ever-after died with her dreams.

      Enough of this pity party, though. “Let’s go inside. I have to hear about this new task force Evan’s leading.” Hear about how he’d moved on without a care in the world. As if nothing had happened. As if Jody never meant anything to him. If she kept up this thinking, Cosette would notice and demand an hour to process. To talk. She entered the parlor, avoiding eye contact with Evan.

      Wilder crossed one leg over his knee. “Okay, Novak. Tell us about this task force because you say it’s relatively new and with the timing of this shooting, I think it could be a link. Not to mention they all knew you’d be at the convention center today.”

      “Again, I don’t think anyone on my task force is behind this. But...” Evan cleared his throat. “The operation is called Gunmetal, comprised of ATF, Homeland Security, FBI and Secret Service. We’ve been monitoring a dark web website called the Arsenal for a few months. It’s a virtual marketplace where anyone can sell illegal guns, and it’s practically impossible for law enforcement—or anyone else—to trace buyers and sellers thanks to the N-cog browser and software.”

      “What’s that?” Jody asked.

      “I use it sometimes,” Wheezer said. He would know about all things dark and secret that lay way beyond the normal internet. Jody wasn’t techy. At all. She could barely figure out her TV remote.

      “It provides browsing and purchasing anonymity as well as anonymous emailing ability. N-cog is short for Incognito. No browsing history and it protects you from outside sources monitoring where you’ve been and what you’ve looked at, unlike when you use Google Chrome or another internet browser, which keeps a record even if you clear your browsing history. Nothing is really gone.”

      “Except if you use this N-cog browser. It’s undetectable?” Jody asked.

      “Right. And because it’s an open network, anyone can download and use it for free. Voilà, everything you do on the internet is now hidden and untraceable.”

      “The US government created it,” Wheezer said.

      “With some IT experts about a decade or so ago,” Evan added. “Originally it was meant for military and government so they could protect their investigations, communications and intel. Whistle-blowers use it to protect themselves, and people in Communist countries can get real news without repercussions. It has the potential to be amazing. Even for the average person who might not want to see a Facebook ad pop up with what they just looked at on Amazon thirty seconds before. This browser won’t allow any traffic analysis.”

      “But criminals got wind of it and corrupted it.”

      Bad people using good things for evil gain, Jody thought. Timeless. “I guess you’re creating an undercover sting with false usernames to take down these particular gun dealers on the Arsenal?”

      Evan smiled, and something like admiration in his eyes unnerved her. “Yes. We’re trying to get them and take down the Arsenal website along with its creator. He goes by @Lawman1. Ironic, isn’t it? He’s a pompous jerk. Taunts law enforcement openly on his online forum. But he’s not invincible. He’ll make a mistake. And I’ll find him.”

      Of course he would. It would help him climb the career ladder in the Secret Service.

      “I did a little background on you, Agent Novak.” Wheezer had that look. He was man-crushing. “They call you the Wasp underground.”

      “Why?” Jody asked.

      “Wasps eat spiders. Fly right into their web and snatch them,” Wheezer said. He was like a puppy over Evan.

      Evan shifted, as if uncomfortable with the praise. That was new. “I may have had a hand in taking down some nasties.”

      “Enough that there’s buzz on dark web online forums discussing you and fearing you,” Wheezer added. “Cool.”

      Okay, all this going gaga over Evan needed to be stopped. “So back to this site and task force,” Jody redirected.

      “Right.” Evan leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You can buy anything on the dark web from guns to fake identities. Drugs. Even people. It’s a sick place to be. The Arsenal has an array of gun dealers. One particular gun dealer has caught the eye of the ATF because their biggest line of guns are ghost guns.”

      Wilder groaned. “Those jokers can’t be traced. No serial number.”

      “Cop killer guns,” Beckett said. “A favorite among gangbangers.”

      Evan licked his lips and nodded. “These particular gun dealers that supply the ghost guns use fake identities purchased from other dark websites to help them traffic the weapons across borders and throughout the US. I’d like to get them, too. If we can bust these gun sellers, we might be able to get the criminals making fake identities and the site creator. Which means we could take down the whole Arsenal website and a lot of other really bad guys.”

      “Can’t you track the payments?” Jody asked.

      “No.” Evan balled his fist. “They’re almost all using digital currency. Bitcoin. It doesn’t show names of account holders, only a long list of letters and numbers in a public forum called a blockchain.”

      Jody was going cross-eyed. Evan must have noticed. “Every time a transaction is made using digital currency it shows up but not with a name of an account holder. The list grows and grows with every transaction and that long list is called a blockchain. It’s made up of letters and numbers unique to the account. But never any names, and the accounts can’t be linked to a physical address.”

      “Basically what you’re saying is that these dark websites, the users and the money they’re exchanging are untraceable.” Jody pinched the bridge of her nose.

      “In a nutshell. But someone is bound to make a mistake somewhere and we’ll be waiting. In the meantime, we’re working undercover to buy a major shipment of ghost guns. These guys are some of the few who do physical trades with actual cash.”

      “And