Page 56 of Once Vanished
“What?How—”
“I don’t have time to explain,” Riley cut him off.“But he’s forcing me to choose between saving Jilly or saving Bill.He’s giving me fifteen minutes to decide—well, thirteen now.”
Van’s sharp intake of breath was audible through the phone.“Jesus Christ.That’s...Riley, I’m so sorry.”
“I need your help, Van.Now.”She paced the kitchen, her free hand raking through her hair.“Why do you think ShadowCipher keeps cutting you off?”
“It’s obvious,” Van replied, his tone shifting to something more analytical, professional.“He knows I’m FBI.He’s protecting his client.”
“You said before that he shut down immediately when you mentioned Leo’s name—L.Dillard, right?”
“Yeah,” Van confirmed.“I barely got the name out before the connection terminated.I wouldn’t want to talk to me either if I were in his position.These dark web hackers are paranoid by nature, and the best ones stay that way.”
But something didn’t add up in Riley’s mind.A hacker as sophisticated as ShadowCipher would have vetted his clients thoroughly before agreeing to work with them.He would have known exactly who Leo was before accepting the job.So why would the mere mention of Leo’s name trigger such an immediate shutdown?
“What if it’s not about protecting his client?”Riley said, the pieces falling into place.“What if it’s something else entirely?”
“Like what?”
“You mentioned ego before—how these elite hackers have egos the size of Montana.What if ShadowCipher and Leo had a falling out?What if Leo’s arrogance offended him?”
Van was silent for a moment, considering.“It’s...possible.These hacker types don’t play well with others, especially ones who think they’re smarter than everyone else.”
“Which describes both Leo and ShadowCipher,” Riley said.“Two enormous egos on a collision course.”
“But that doesn’t help us,” Van pointed out.“If ShadowCipher won’t even let me mention Leo’s name without cutting me off, how does that give us leverage?”
Riley glanced at the clock again.1:40.Twelve minutes left.
“I need you to connect me with ShadowCipher,” she said.
“What?Riley, did you not hear me?He won’t talk—”
“Not you.Me.”Riley’s voice hardened with determination.“Set up a direct connection from my computer to wherever you were communicating with him.”
“He’ll just hang up on you too,” Van warned.“These guys don’t exactly respect authority figures.”
“I have to take that risk.I need access to that forum or chat room or whatever it is you were using.”
Van sighed heavily.“I’ll need remote access to your computer.You okay with that?”
“Do it,” Riley said, rushing out of the kitchen to the computer in the family room.“Now.”
“Alright, sending you a link.Click it, and I’ll be in.”A moment later, her computer pinged with a text message containing a URL.
Riley clicked it, and watched her cursor begin moving independently across the screen as Van took control.Windows opened and closed rapidly, lines of code scrolled past too fast to read.She watched, mesmerized, as Van navigated digital terrain as easily as she might walk through her own home.
“Alright,” he said after about a minute.“I’m connecting you to the same secure messaging channel where I last had contact with him.Remember, these messages are encrypted, but nothing online is ever permanently private.Be careful what you say.”
The screen settled on a dark interface with a simple message box.The aesthetic was retro, harking back to early internet chat rooms.The username at the top read “VoltageVariant”—Van’s dark web alias.
“I’m logged in as you?”Riley asked.
“Yep.From his perspective, you’re still me.ShadowCipher will assume he’s talking to VoltageVariant unless you tell him otherwise.And his alias is QuantumGhost Ready?”
Riley took a deep breath, her eyes darting to the kitchen clock.1:42.Ten minutes.
“Ready.”