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Chapter Twelve

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Alina picked up Stephanie's coffee as she passed the bar and motioned for them to follow her into the living room, ignoring Damon's muttered comment.

“I don't understand how someone can kill a man in FBI custody and no one have seen anything,” said Angela, standing and picking up her bottle of water. “What happened to the camera feeds?”

“They were looped,” Stephanie said, grabbing her cane and turning toward the living room. “Trust me, none of us understand it. Not only were the cameras from Interrogation looped, but none of the other building security picked anything up either. It’s like it never happened, except for the dead body. If I didn't know better, I might believe it was a ghost!”

“You didn't see a '67 Impala in the parking garage, did you?” Angela asked with a grin.

Stephanie laughed.

“No.”

“Just checking.”

Damon looked at Alina as she set Stephanie's coffee down on the coffee table and headed for the recliner.

“Impala?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It's a show. Supernatural,” she explained, sinking into the chair. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” Angela exclaimed. “Don't listen to her. It's amazing!”

Stephanie dropped onto the couch and reached for her coffee.

“Forensics got nothing from the room,” she said, returning to the original topic as Angela plopped down on the other end of the couch. “Matt is trying to work on the camera feeds, but nothing so far.”

“If there's anything there, that man will find it,” said Alina, sipping her coffee. “If he could track a lab coat button down to Singapore, he can backtrack a hacker.”

Stephanie shot her a look.

“Well, he couldn't backtrack—”

She broke off abruptly, glancing at Angela.

“What?” she asked innocently.

Stephanie shook her head, looking flustered. Angela had no idea Viper had hacked the security in the FBI building a few weeks before, and she’d almost slipped and let the cat out of the bag.

“Nothing.”

Alina felt her lips tremble and sternly repressed them as Damon perched on the arm of the recliner and looked across at Stephanie.

“Who knew Trent was there?”

She shrugged.

“That's just it, not many did,” she replied. “The whole thing is bizarre.”

“Well I, for one, am not crying over it,” Angela said. “Good riddance. Now, if the same thing could just happen to my hacker, I'd be a happy camper.”

Alina looked up sharply.

“Hacker?”

Angela nodded.

“I'm telling you, I must have crossed a black cat or something because I’m having the absolute worst luck these days,” she said. “I mean, first Trent, now this. And then there was Lowell last fall, and the random gunshot before that. In fact, now that I think about it, I've had a pretty crappy year!”

“Did you break a mirror?” Stephanie asked with a grin.

“Right? You'd think so with all this happening,” Angela said, sitting back and sipping her water. “I should be on drugs.”

“You already have enough pharmaceuticals to start a store,” Stephanie pointed out. “Let's not get carried away.”

“What hacker?!”

Alina's voice cut through the room sharply, startling both Angela and Stephanie.

“That got their attention,” Damon murmured, amused.

“You didn't tell her?” Angela asked Stephanie.

She shook her head.

“When was I supposed to tell her?” she asked. “You only told me last night!”

“I just assumed you told her.”

“Well, I didn't.”

Alina felt her eye begin to twitch.

“Feel up to another trip to the landfill?” she asked Damon under her breath, drawing a bark of laughter from him.

“Someone better start talking,” he advised the two women on the couch, “before things get ugly.”

“I got hacked,” Angela said, looking at them. “Well, my journal did.”

Alina and Damon stared at her, all traces of amusement erased from their faces.

“Your...what?” Alina shook her head as if to clear it. “I think I heard you wrong. I could swear you said your journal got hacked.”

Angela nodded. “I did. It did.”

Stephanie nodded sympathetically at the look on Alina's face.

“That's exactly how I felt when she told me,” she said. “It's frightening what people are doing with technology.”

“Wait, you're serious?” Damon asked incredulously. “You keep your diary online?”

“Yes. You wouldn't believe how much more convenient it is!” Angela said, setting her empty water bottle on the coffee table. “I used to fill up loads of books, but then I didn't want to throw them away, so they kept accumulating. This is much more efficient!”

“Efficient?” Alina felt her other eye start to twitch and she pinched the bridge of her nose.

“You have no idea! So, anytime I want to jot something down, I can do it from my phone, my laptop, my computer at work, anywhere! I can access it anytime, anywhere, and it doesn't take up any space! Last year, I even started scanning in my old paper journals so I could declutter. It's perfect!”

“Right up until it gets hacked,” Damon interjected.

“Well, yeah, there's that,” she admitted.

Alina lowered her hand from her face and gazed across the coffee table at Angela.

“Let me get this straight,” she said slowly, her voice deadly quiet. “You keep a personal journal online?”

Angela nodded slowly.

“The way you say it, it sounds stupid,” she said with a frown. “It's not. The site I use has military-grade security measures.”

“Clearly not,” Alina snapped, draining what was left of her coffee. She suddenly wished it was something stronger. “When was it hacked?”

“Well, they don't know exactly.”

“Oh yes, definitely military-grade,” Damon said sarcastically, getting up and taking Alina's empty mug out of her hand. He placed it on the coffee table with his own and turned to glance down at her. His blue eyes met hers, and she saw the same glint of grim realization in them that she felt. “Ballpark estimate?”

Angela shrugged. “Sometime in the past three months. There was a data security breach.”

Alina stiffened and felt a chill go through her. She looked at Damon, leaning against the mantle and staring down into the empty hearth, his lips pressed together grimly.

“You said you scanned in old journals,” she said, surprised when her voice came out calm and even. “How old?”

“Oh, I don't know, years!” Angela said airily. “I've been uploading them over the past year. They must go back to before high school.”

Alina sucked in her breath silently and glanced at Stephanie.

“Did you know about this?” she demanded sharply.

“Not until last night when she told me,” Stephanie replied with a frown. “If I did, I would have warned her about how dangerous it is to keep personal stuff online.”

Alina turned her gaze back to Angela.

“What's in those journals? The old ones you scanned in? Is it only what you were thinking about life at the time, or is it actual events that happened to you?”

Angela looked at her like she was out of her mind.

“Did you seriously just ask what's in my old diaries?” she exclaimed. “Lina, that's private!”

“So private you put it all online,” Damon interjected, turning to face the two women on the couch.

Angela scowled.

“Well, I didn't know it was going to get hacked,” she said. “And anyway, like Steph said last night, I doubt someone in Russia is sitting there reading all about my life fifteen years ago. Who would care? They were probably mining for personal information they can use to steal identities.”

“Angie, did you put anything in those journals about me?” Alina asked, the words clipped as her patience ran out.

Angela stared at her. She seemed to suddenly realize that Alina was deadly serious, and her brows furrowed in thought.

“I don't know,” she said slowly. “Probably? I mean, we were all so close. I'm sure you and Stephanie and John were all mentioned a lot.”

Alina stood up and grabbed her laptop off the coffee table, opening it. A second later, she had a secured browser open and she set the open laptop on the table, spinning it to face Angela.

“Shut it down,” she ordered.

Angela and Stephanie both gaped at her, dumbfounded.

“Shut it down?” Angela repeated, her voice rising. “Why the hell would I do that?”

“Isn't that kind of like closing the barn door after the fact?” Stephanie asked reasonably. “I mean, it's already been hacked. They've already got whatever they wanted.”

Alina didn't even glance in Stephanie's direction, but kept her eyes on Angela.

“Take it down.”

“I can't just go in and delete it!” she protested. “I haven't backed it up! I'll lose everything! And anyway, I don't see why I should. What does it matter to you? It's not your journal! It's none of your business!”

“I'm in it, and that makes it my business!”

Stephanie suddenly gasped audibly and her eyes flew to Alina's, her face draining of color.

“Oh my God,” she breathed.

“What?” Angela glanced at her. “Don't even tell me you're taking her side on this!”

“Yeah, I think I am,” Stephanie replied, looking at her friend. “Sorry.”

“Well, that's just fantastic!” Angela exploded. “What's the big deal? So you're in it? So what! No one’s reading the damn thing. Do you honestly believe some Red Bull guzzling hacker in a basement somewhere is busy reading my old journals?”

“Let me put it this way,” Alina said, her voice like ice, “shut the damn thing down now, or I'll make you wish you never started it.”

Angela gulped at the stranger standing in front of her. She had never seen that look on her friend's face, and fear visibly washed over her. The blood drained out of her face, and she reached for the laptop.

Silence fell over the living room as she began typing into the browser, pulling up the site. Stephanie glanced at Angela, then up at Viper. Her friend had disappeared, and the cold-blooded, emotionless assassin was in her place. She shivered.

“Do you have something I can back it up on first?” Angela asked after a moment, looking up. “A flash drive?”

“I have one,” Stephanie offered, reaching for her cane. “It's in my purse.”

“Stay.” Alina turned and moved out of the living room, heading down the hall to the den in the front of the house. “I'll get something.”

She disappeared and Stephanie and Angela both looked at Damon. His back was to the fireplace, his shoulders leaning against the mantel, and he had his arms crossed over his chest. The look on his face was grim, and Angela frowned.

“I don't understand what the big deal is,” she muttered, dropping her gaze again to the laptop. “God, you'd think I was selling state secrets to terrorists.”

Damon was silent, but his lips tightened imperceptibly.

“I'm sure Lina has her reasons,” Stephanie said quietly. “When has she ever had anything but your best interest in mind?”

“That's the only reason I'm doing this,” Angela retorted, tossing her hair. “Well, that and the fact that she just scared the crap out of me.”

“You should be scared.” Damon finally spoke. “This is far more dangerous than a simple data breach on a website. You do not want to cross Alina on this. Trust me.”

Angela made a hmpf sound and pouted.

“Here.” Alina returned and held out a flash drive. “Back it up on there and you can take it with you.”

Angela took the drive and plugged it into the laptop, starting the backup.

“What happens when she's shut it down?” Stephanie asked, looking up at Alina. “The damage is already done.”

“Yes, but it will prevent more, and cut the flow off at the source.”

“You think the hacker is still in it?”

“There are any number of ways to monitor new content once you're in,” Damon said, dropping his arms and moving to pick up the empty coffee mugs. “By deleting the account, most of them will be stopped.”

“Most?” Stephanie repeated, watching as he gathered up the empty cups.

“The rest will be on her computer and phone,” he said, turning to carry the mugs into the kitchen.

“Wait, what are you saying?” Angela asked, looking up again. “Are you saying my computer and phone are at risk?”

“Anywhere you accessed this site is at risk,” Alina told her. “You'll need to run scans to remove any malware.”

Angela gaped at her.

“Are you serious?” she asked. “But I used my work laptop once! Are you saying the bank network is at risk?”

“The bank should have a good enough firewall to protect it,” said Alina, going back to the recliner and sitting down. “It doesn’t matter, though. Whoever did this wasn't interested in the bank. They were interested in you.”

“Me? Why me?”

Alina was silent and Stephanie cleared her throat.

“I think what Lina is getting at is that the bank network is safe,” she said, glancing at Alina. “I have a good security software I can load onto your devices and we'll run some scans. They're probably fine, but Alina and Damon are right. It's best to be safe once you've shut this stupid journal down.”

Angela sighed and pulled the drive out of the laptop. A few minutes later, she looked up.

“It's done.”

Alina rose and turned the screen around so she could see it. She nodded when she read the confirmation.

“Good.” She closed the laptop and looked at Angela. The icy stranger was gone and Alina was back, her face impassive. “Thank you.”

“It's not like you gave me much choice,” Angela muttered, standing up. “I'm going to the bathroom, then I'm ready to leave whenever you are, Steph.”

She turned and stalked to the powder room. As soon as the door closed behind her, Stephanie stood up, leaning on the cane, and faced Alina.

“What the hell is going on?” she demanded in a low voice. “You think Angela's journal has something to do with this bastard who's trying to kill you?”

Alina looked at her, her gaze hooded. “Yes.”

Stephanie blinked at the forthright answer.

“Why? How would they even know about her or her journal?”

“They know everything about me, and that includes you and Angela.”

Alina turned and moved around the couch toward the bar. Stephanie followed her slowly, leaning heavily on her cane.

“You told me in the hospital that your identity was leaked. Angela doesn't even know who you really are. Why are you so convinced that her journal is connected to the people who leaked it?”

Alina glanced at her and went into the kitchen to get a bottle of water from the fridge. Damon leaned against the island, his arms crossed over his chest, watching them. Alina was silent while she opened the fridge and pulled out the water.

“Because they know things about me that no one aside from you and Angela know,” she finally said, letting the door swing closed.

Stephanie stared at her.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “What kind of things?”

“Things that happened when we were growing up, things I've never told another soul.” Alina opened the bottle and tilted her head back, taking a long drink.

“How do you know?”

Alina lowered the bottle, her eyes on Stephanie's face.

“When I killed Asad, he recited my own history back to me as if he'd known me all his life,” she told her flatly. “He was being coached by someone through an ear bud. They were telling him exactly what to say.”

Stephanie's face paled, and she sank onto a bar stool.

“Oh my God,” she breathed. “You think they got the information from Angela's journal?”

Alina was silent and Stephanie shook her head, stunned.

“No wonder you were so harsh with her,” she said. “What now? If you're right, they already know everything.”

“Yes.”

“To what purpose, though?” Stephanie looked up, her brows drawn together. “What can they hope to do with details from all those years ago?”

“It's a psychological weapon,” Damon said. “They can press buttons and get into her head. If they can disrupt her enough, she'll make a mistake. She'll become vulnerable.”

Stephanie looked from one to the other.

“That's how your world really works?” she demanded incredulously. “I thought that kind of thing only happened in movies.”

Alina's lips curved briefly.

“Where do you think the stories come from? It's a particular specialty of all governments. The quickest way to destroy an enemy is to make him destroy himself.”

Stephanie opened her mouth to say something, but the bathroom door opened then and Angela came out.

“Where are we going to dinner?” she asked, looking at Stephanie. “That cream puff didn't last long, and I'm hungry.”

Stephanie forced the frown off her face.

“What are you in the mood for?” she asked. She looked at Alina and Damon. “You two are welcome to join us. Are you hungry?”

“Thanks, but we have something we have to take care of.”

Angela made a face.

“You always have something to take care of,” she said. “I thought I worked too much, but you've got me beat.”

“Who said anything about work?” Damon asked, a devilish twinkle leaping into his eyes.

Angela laughed delightedly.

“Oh! Well, that's different!”

Stephanie rolled her eyes and glanced at Alina.

“Blake is coming back up tonight,” she told her, standing. “If Michael comes back into the neighborhood, we should arrange something for us all. It would be nice to have drinks and just chill out like normal people.”

Alina raised an eyebrow.

“Normal people?” she repeated, a faint smile pulling at her lips.

“You know what I mean.” Stephanie reached for her purse. “What are your plans tonight? Anything fun?”

Alina shrugged, her mask sliding into place as her face became impassive.

“Nothing you would find fun.”

Stephanie looked at her for a second, then turned toward the sliding door to the deck.

“You're probably right,” she agreed. “Come on, Angie. Let's leave them to it. How about Mexican?”

“I could do some fajitas,” Angela said, following her to the door. “I can definitely do a margarita.”

Alina followed them to the door and out onto the deck. Damon joined her at the railing as the two women made their way slowly down the steps and across the grass to Angela's BMW.

“What are the odds that Angela knows something is going on?” he asked in a low voice as they watched.

“Angie? Oh, she knows something serious is happening. She's not stupid.”

“Is that going to be a problem?”

“Possibly.” Alina watched as Angela opened the passenger door for Stephanie, holding the cane and helping her into the car. “She's gotten nosy before. That's what got her shot last year.”

“And Stephanie?”

“She didn't have any idea about the leak knowing information about me. I'd swear to it.”

“Agreed. I was watching her pretty closely. The surprise was real.”

They fell silent as Angela went around to the driver side, turning to wave before she got behind the wheel.

“She may not have known anything about the information getting leaked from Angela's journal, but she’s still feeding information on your movements to someone. Why?” Damon wondered as Angela turned the car around and pulled down the drive. “You know you can't trust her now. For all we know, she's passed on the location of this house.”

Alina was silent for a long moment.

“If she had, they would have come already,” she finally said, turning to go back into the house. “I don't know what she's doing, but I can tell you this much: she thinks she's helping the good guys. When I find out who convinced her of that, they're going to wish they were never born.”