Page 17 of The Rough Ride

“Commander Blevins, you’re relieved of your post. Please hand your headset to your second.”

“Now, wait just a minute, little miss. You don’t have the authority to dismiss me.”

“Blevins, I am not your little miss but the lead analyst here. You are relieved of your post. Return to your company for reassignment to more compatible duty. I’ll let your superiors decide what that might be, but I never want to hear your voice on a DHS headset again. Do I make myself clear, sir?”

“This will never stick, Nelson.”

“I disagree, sir. The entire negotiation was recorded by six different government entities. The message you delivered did nothing to encourage the perp to surrender without further incident. You effectively stripped him of any hope. I have the translation in front of me. Please hand your headset to your second.”

Major Chan’s voice piped in, “She’s right, Commander. Do you need the MPs help to leave?” She placed a hand on Liz’sshoulder and whispered, “I’ve got it from here. Go take a break. You’ve earned it.” Then, in a louder voice, she announced to the bullpen, “Twenty minute break, everyone. Go walk it off. Fresh coffee in the lunchroom.”

Still stunned, Liz strode with her coworkers down the hallway, offering words of encouragement, thanks, and a few pats on the back. Fury fueled by adrenaline coursed her veins. There’d been hundreds of qualified people on site to handle the situation correctly, and it only took Blevins to muck it up. How could he have been so callous and narrow-minded? Why would the perp do that to himself and his family? There were people in this world who’d give anything for one more day on earth, shitty or not.

She headed for her office, stretched against the back of the door and tried to clear the image of the perp offing himself that reverberated in her brain by focusing on the picture of Ella on her desk. She’d taken this job to protect all the sweet Ella’s in this world. How dare he use his commission in opposition to the unit’s goals? She moved into a deep breathing routine that never failed to energize her and contemplated.

Nick had done hostage negotiation in Iraq. She’d never witnessed him in action, but the stories were famous around the barracks. He’d once talked a group of enemy deserters into surrendering themselves and their Russian tank without a single bullet fired. The fighters had gone six days without food and water. Nick promised them an all-you-can-eat buffet in exchange for surrender and the keys to the tank. They’d laid down their arms after a tense discussion. Unharmed, they ate their meal in shackles.

Maybe she’d talk to Nick about her situation today in generic terms. She couldn’t discuss work outside of thisbuilding, but she could ask him to shed light on hostage negotiations and learn a few things she’d employ next time. A longing sigh escaped her chest. Hearing his steady voice right now would be a healing balm.

But there were three hours left to the workday and her profiles wouldn’t follow up on themselves. She perused Marion Trent’s homepage. As usual, it was loaded with new posts.

There was an invitation to a VFW dance in Sterling, VA from an older gentleman, a few advertisements for strip clubs and swinger sites, and an invite from a local crochet club asking if she’d be interested in joining.

Liz moved on to the friend requests. Three of them came from scammers she either knew of or had handled in the past.Flag and forward to the appropriate agency.One was from an interesting young man in Brussels, and she made a note to check him out later.

The final request was from a man who’d served time for child pornography. Liz highlighted and copied the information onto a report for her contact at the FBI.They’ll shut you down again, sicko.Maybe this time, they’ll keep your perverted self in jail before you can harm the youngest members of the public again.

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. Stopping that child porn guy made her crappy day worth it.

There were thirteen private messages. There was no time like the present, and she opened the list. Two messages were from the same overseas guy who’d offered Marion a job as a nanny for that large group of children. Liz made a note to follow up with Major Chan on what the dark web guys had uncovered in their search.

She moved on, opening the next message while picking up her coffee for a sip.

Are you enjoying the flowers I sent?

It took Liz a few seconds to process the question.

She read it again. The coffee cup in her hand tipped and the warm liquid dribbled onto her lap. She startled, set the cup down, and grabbed some napkins. Dabbing at her clothes, she glanced at the corner shelf. The wilting roses stared at her like frozen mimes. She’d forgotten all about them and hadn’t watered them in several days.

And then it hit her like a semi. Marion Trent’s profile had been compromised.

No. Omigod. No.

Though the adrenaline from the earlier bust had subsided, a fresh release tore through her system like a sprinter on steroids. She clutched her chest.What the hell?

Marion was her connection to the darkest, underbelly worlds. Marion was responsible for over forty busts in the past couple months. Marion was invaluable. Liz checked the DHS procedures book and slammed it on the desk.

If Marion were compromised and someone asked about the roses via her messages, then whoever sent the roses also knew Liz worked at Homeland Security in the cyber-security section. They knew who she was. They’d possibly gained access to her files. What else did they know? It was an invasion of the highest magnitude.

Sure, phishing happened all the time at government agencies. But here in the sanctity of this building were some of the greatest cyber experts in the world, defending the perimetertwenty-four hours a day. What happened here was massive, life-altering.

Liz took a screenshot of the message and hurried towards the major’s office. She knocked twice and then barged in on a meeting.

“Forgive me, Major. I need you.” Liz couldn’t believe she was doing this, but it was protocol.

Chan stood and excused the person sitting across from her. “We’ll finish this discussion via phone in the morning, Harold.” Once he’d left, she looked at Liz. “What’s going on?”

“Probable security breach. Your input, please.”

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