Page 9 of Mafia Handbook

Chapter Four

Bash recoiled as he sipped what he assumed was hot coffee, the second the cold liquid touched his lips. This was the second time this happened since he’d sat down at his computer after the disastrous meeting with Milena. He’d read through the notes of the previous specialist who’d allegedly looked at the case, and had to agree with Milena, her father must have been a deterrent as not much was uncovered. He did, however, disagree with her assumption he wouldn't take her case for the same reason. Frank Rossi may be the head of one of the largest organized crime families in California, but Bash was no more afraid of him than he was of his own shadow.

Pushing the cold coffee to the side, Bash tented his arms under his chin as he stared at the screen. Much to his chagrin, he was no closer to nailing the hacker than he’d been when he started. His neck and shoulders ached in protest, begging him to call it a night and start fresh in the morning. Too bad his mammoth-sized ego refused to relinquish.

Glancing at the clock in the corner of his screen, Bash let out an oath at the realization he’d been at this for nearly twelve hours. Slamming his tired eyes shut, Bash dropped his head between his palms, spearing his fingers into the roots of his hair. He’d run through his tried-and-true methods for gaining access through a forgotten door, and still nothing. Sucking in a deep breath, Bash raised his head, guiding his mouse to an icon on his desktop. Tapping in his password, he leaned back in his chair as he waited for the secure line to connect. As much as he wanted to bust this open himself, he was forced to admit this hacker wasn’t of the caliber he'd dealt with in the past, this bastard was more of a gamer than criminal.

“Do you ever sleep?”

“I’m in no mood for jokes, Wizard.”

“There’s a shocker. The mighty Trespass in a foul mood.”

Ignoring Wizard’s jab, Bash clicked away at the keyboard. Wizard was one of the few people Bash trusted in the hacking world. So much so, he’d convinced his partner Jamisson to put him on the payroll as a go-between for Keystone Securities and the Dark Web.

“Check your folder, I need you to tell me what you see.”

Leaning back in his chair, Bash watched as the masked individual on his screen began typing away. He had no idea what Wizard’s real name was or where he lived. He, and the rest of his team, respected his anonymity.

“Where in the fuck did you find this?”

“It’s a client.”

“Really? According to my understanding, we don't have a permit for that office yet.”

“Just tell me what the fuck you see?”

Stilling his fingers, Wizard wanted to hold onto the moment when a man with the reputation Trespass had in the hacking world consulted him.

“A shit-ton of gaming code. Advanced level by the look of it.”

“Which is why I called you. I haven’t been a gamer in a lot of years, Wizard. What the fuck am I dealing with?”

“This has Gridlock written all over it.”

“Gridlock? Never heard of him.”

“I’m surprised. This guy hacked into several systems early last year, managing to shut down the New York and UK subway system.”

Despite the exhaustion blanketing his body, Bash leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. Not bothering to hide his smile, Bash thought back to the semester he’d hacked into NORAD when his professor claimed it to be impossible at the time.

“So?”

“At the same time.”

Dropping his arms, Bash typed the incident into a search engine, scanning the article from the Associated Press.

“Gridlock is still considered green among old school hackers, pissing off as many as he’s impressed. One thing I can say with certainty, if Gridlock has a target on your client’s back, I’d find a way to make them disappear.”

“Fuck me,” Bash mumbled under his breath as he ended the secured call.

“I’d love to.”

Snapping his gaze from the blank computer screen to Gretchen’s tight body standing in the threshold.

“How the hell did you get in here?” Jumping to his feet, separating the distance between them. He recalled with perfect clarity locking the door last night when he’d come in.

“I still have the code from when I had the listing,” Gretchen purred, moving around an angry-looking Sebastian. “I tried to call you. When you didn't answer, I took a chance you’d be here.” Raising the white box in her hands, “I hit the diner around the corner for something sweet for breakfast.” Reaching out with her free hand, she attempted to run her fingers down the valley of his chest.

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