Page 44 of Doc
Nova nodded, her gaze meeting mine briefly.Something passed between us -- a shared understanding, a moment of connection that felt more intimate for being witnessed by a roomful of bikers.
She turned back to the keyboard, pulling up what looked like a login screen for the county’s administration system.“First hurdle… Getting past the initial authentication.”
Wire leaned forward.“You got credentials?”
“Better,” Nova replied, a hint of mischief in her voice as she opened another window.“I have the system administrator’s email address and the county’s terrible password reset protocol.”
I watched in fascination as she crafted a convincing email that appeared to come from the county IT department, sent it to the system administrator, and then intercepted his click on the reset link when he inevitably responded minutes later.
“People are always the weakest link in any security system.”She smiled a little.
With the administrator credentials secured, Nova moved systematically through firewalls and access controls, explaining each step as she went.Her technical knowledge surprised me -- this quiet, bookish woman who’d seemed so out of place in our world was now navigating digital security systems with the confidence of a veteran hacker.
“Where’d you learn all this?”I asked during a brief pause while a program ran.
“Started with basic research skills,” she replied, without looking away from the screen.“Then Mom got involved in more sensitive stories.Sources who needed protection, data that wasn’t publicly available.She made sure I knew how to finish her work if anything happened to her, and she might have possibly hired a hacker to teach us the basics.”
The weight of that statement hung in the air.Mary-Jane Treemont had been preparing her daughter, knowing the dangers of the story she was pursuing.Knowing she might not survive to see it through.
“Got it,” Nova suddenly announced, her voice rising with excitement.I glanced at Wire and noticed the way he watched her, with a half-smile on his face.Instead of being upset someone had stepped into his role, he seemed to enjoy taking a backseat today.“We’re in the financial disclosure database.”
The center screen filled with spreadsheets and transaction records, dates and account numbers organized in neat columns.Nova’s fingers moved with incredible speed, setting up filters and search parameters that narrowed the thousands of entries down to specific patterns.
“I’ve found the digital trail for Harmon’s fees from Coastal Investments.”She highlighted a series of transactions and split the screen, bringing up court records on one side and financial transactions on the other.The pattern was unmistakable once you knew what to look for -- cases involving the Blue Pines Motel dismissed on the same days that large deposits hit Harmon’s offshore account.
“Now watch this.”Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she accessed another database.“Sheriff’s department personnel files.”
“Those should be restricted.”Tempest pushed off the wall to get a closer look.“Even with admin access.”
Nova’s smile was grim.“They are.But the records management system has a vulnerability in how it handles cross-database queries.”She executed a complex command, and suddenly personnel files appeared on the third screen.“And… there it is.”
She highlighted a section of Deputy Chief Wallace’s file -- a disciplinary action that had been entered into the system and then deleted three days later.It looked like they’d found themselves a crooked cop and jumped at the chance to use him.The date matched perfectly with the first payment from Coastal Investments to his account.
“Think is could have been blackmail?”I asked, the pieces clicking into place.“Maybe they had something on him.”
“Something he was willing to become a murderer to keep hidden.”Nova pulled up more deleted records that showed a pattern of increasing involvement.“Once they had him, they used him to recruit others.A deputy here, a clerk there.But the good news is that I don’t see anyone from the local police.Looks like this is mostly at the county level.”
The room had gone completely silent, all eyes fixed on the screens as Nova revealed the full extent of the corruption.The pattern she uncovered was more elaborate than even she had suspected -- officials across multiple departments, all connected through a web of payments, favors, and coercion.
“Holy shit,” Wire whispered as Nova pulled up a hidden directory of video files.“They recorded everything?And kept it?”
“Insurance, most likely.Leverage to keep everyone in line.”She glanced at him.“And they probably never guessed someone would illegally access their files, which is funny as hell all things considered.”
“Bats would’ve been proud.”Tank’s massive hand came down to rest briefly on Nova’s shoulder.“Damn proud of what you’ve done here.”
Nova’s fingers stilled on the keyboard.I saw her swallow hard, blinking rapidly before she could respond.“Thank you.”
It was the first time anyone had acknowledged her place in the family -- not just as Bats’ niece or a responsibility the club had inherited, but as someone carrying on his legacy.Someone worthy of respect in her own right.
I watched her work, pride swelling in my chest.This woman who had walked into the clubhouse less than a week ago, small and alone, had transformed before my eyes.She was still all those things -- still with an iron will, still fundamentally alone in her grief -- but now she was something more.A force of nature.A reckoning.
Our gazes met across the crowded room, a moment of perfect understanding passing between us.We’d started this journey as reluctant allies, thrown together by circumstance and obligation.Somewhere along the way, through gunfire and fear and desperate escapes, we’d become something else.Partners.No, more than partners.
Nova held my gaze a heartbeat longer than necessary before she turned back to her screens.That look told me everything she couldn’t say in a room full of bikers.We stood in this together now, bound by more than her hunt for justice or my oath to protect.Whatever came next, we’d face it side by side.
* * *
Night closed in tight, cloaking our three-vehicle convoy as we rolled down the service road toward the warehouse.Tank drove point with Tempest riding shotgun, their silhouettes sharp behind the tinted glass.Saint’s pickup followed, packed with the entry team.Nova and I brought up the rear in the surveillance van, wired with enough tech to crack the Pentagon.The bulletproof vest dug into my chest, but I barely felt it.All my focus locked on Nova, her frame swallowed by body armor -- the smallest we had, still hanging loose on her shoulders.
