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Jazz flexed her fingers. This wasn’t going to be as easy, but what choice did she have? The Slaggers had already trashed Bill and Madge’s place to the point of ruin and terrorized her brother.

What would happen when they came after Wolf with guns blazing?

This was going to end, just not in a big bloody shootout on the streets of Pittsburgh. It would piss Wolf off like crazy when he found out about her interference, but if her hacking capabilities kept him and her other loved ones safe, then she would willingly risk his wrath.

Jazz opened her programs and logged into the dark web. Her hands skimmed over the keys as she searched for the sites she needed while keeping her presence hidden. First rule of a hacker and a scam-shielder? Find the money trail. Everyone needed to launder it.

It took some time traipsing through information as related to the Slaggers, but the sniffer program she designed found the first part of what she wanted.

Huge amounts of money flowed from a mom-and-pop dry-cleaning service near the Slaggers MC compound.

The profits from this little business tripled several years ago, which she thought should have set off an alarm with the state, but as long as taxes were paid on time, no one paid attention to the oddity.

A little research drummed up information that the owners had been deceased for seven years.

That certainly was at odds with a business that was thriving.

Google street maps showed the front of the building locked up solid with a Closed sign on the front window that was so old it was peeling away.

If any dry-cleaning was taking place, it was very little.

The new owner was none other than James Higgenbotham, aka Ramrod of the Slaggers MC, and it appeared that they had just under a million in the business.

More like drug trade revenues and extortion fees.

No wonder they had such firepower.

Jazz ran a reconciliation program and flagged several bank accounts that would trigger audits.

She debated on inserting her special virus but decided corrupting this program wouldn’t be enough.

Tapping the keys, she systematically transferred money and deleted those accounts, leaving no trace of herself but dropping a few pins that looped back and framed James as the initiator of these transactions.

She scattered the money as donations to dozens of different charities around the country: a children’s home in Nebraska, a women’s shelter in Idaho, a high school marching band in Oklahoma.

Simple transfers that she set up as gifts from fictitious or anonymous donors.

She thought about giving some money to Bark-Off Dog Treats, where her brother worked, but someone might notice a connection between the chief baker and the guy their club scared the shit out of recently.

Once the money appeared in those accounts, she deleted all transaction histories and erased any pathways that would lead back to her or the Knights.

Then she planted bugs in their system that would send out big red flags to cyber authorities to not only cripple their drug network but also give access to the DEA, wrapping them up like a Christmas gift with a big shiny bow.

She didn’t have to do much more than lay a wide trail of data breadcrumbs and the Slaggers would be toast.

Jazz imagined it would only be a matter of hours before they figured out their money was gone.

If anyone in the Slaggers MC had some computer skills, they might be able to trace the dummy accounts, but they would all lead to James.

Any other suspicions would drop when they found out the money had vanished.

Freya jumped on her lap and butted her head against Jazz’s chin.

“Yeah, just give it a little time. Our friendly neighborhood Ramrod is going to be in a world of hurt soon. He’ll be lucky if his own gang doesn’t get him before the police do.”

Something else bothered her about this mess. The Slaggers were pretty much done after everything played through, but what was the bigger picture behind them? If she expanded the margins, was there more to find?

Jazz took a breath and reminded herself that she was sitting in her own house, in front of her own computer with Freya purring away on her lap. She was well hidden to the point of being virtually invisible on the net. Still, fear crept into her brain as she dove deep into the dark unknown.

What she found terrified her.

Data poured over the screen. Dates and times of deliveries, routes and modes of transportation, countries of origin and of receiving, distribution centers, and more.

The longer she explored this network, the more information she found about this gigantic intricate web.

Even worse was the contents. Whoever owned this massive machine dealt with more than just drugs.

Arms deals appeared, and they apparently sold to both opposing sides.

The main financing for this operation? A plethora of large-scale call centers that kept the money flowing.

“Holy shit!” she said aloud, and Freya stopped her purring and opened one yellow eye for a moment to glare at her. Whoever was in charge of this network had some serious computer skills.

Tears came to Jazz’s eyes. She dashed them away as she noted that she’d been at this cyber deep dive for close to four hours. She thought about releasing her custom virus and letting it wreak havoc on this system, but she remembered Copperpot’s warning about potential ramifications.

This was too big for her to take on by herself. Maybe even too big for all the scam-shielders if they tried together. Should this go to the FBI? CIA? Interpol?

As much as she wished she could do something now, she needed answers.

She tagged the site, then deleted and erased any trace of her existence in that network.

As she exited, she saw a list of IP addresses and recognized one of them.

The remnants of the giant scammer site she took down was in this network, and someone was rebuilding it.

She had to talk to Copperpot.

Once out of the dark web, she tried to contact the mentor and friend she had never met. Usually he would answer quickly. This time, he was silent.

A sick sensation bloomed in her belly. Something was wrong.