Page 1 of Girl Code
1
Mickey Hill was flying high. Not on drugs. Nah, she’d never touched the stuff. She didn’t need to. She got all the fun, adrenaline rushing, sweaty palms and nervous smiling in when she was four Red Bull’s into a hack. And after, once she’d pulled off the job, gotten access to a restricted system or dug up some files somebody’s ex didn’t want them to see, she always felt like she was floating on a bubble of victory and confidence.
Today, her bubble was full of vindication and self-righteousness too.
What she’d accomplished this time hadn’t been just any job. In fact, it wasn’t a job at all. She hadn’t made a single penny off her all-night hackathon.
There were some things even better than money.
Ruining the political aspirations of a repugnant slug of a man was way, way better.
After the emails and documents she’d gotten her sticky fingers on went public, he’d be lucky if he could get elected President of his homeowners association.
Billy “the Bully” Keating, as he’d become known to the unfortunate souls that had dared get in the way of his grand plans to rule the world, had been a bad, bad boy and Mickey had nearly laughed as his secrets came tumbling across her computer screen.
Everyone knew that Keating was a sexist pig. That hadn’t been news. Not really. But Mickey had intended to make it news and she had. She’d found numerous emails where he and his campaign manager talked about hiring only the interns willing to go the extra mile on the campaign trail. His emails had been disgusting but Mickey had soon figured out sexual harassment was just the tip of the iceberg for Keating.
Bribes. Money laundering. Ties to a racist hate group. There was proof and documentation of it all sitting right there in his home computer, pretty as can be and ripe for the picking. Mickey had only to reach out and grab it. Her personal favorite of the menagerie of misconduct was the very clear line of money showing the gun lobbyists had been sending Keating major kickbacks for doing their bidding on voting day.
It was that story, the one about gun control and the proof that large organizations were buying politicians that Mickey had woken up to this morning.
Every media outlet in the country was covering the scandal of Billy Keating and not one person had thought to ask where the information had come from.
Mickey smiled to herself as she imagined Keating. Somewhere in a mansion on a hill, in silk sheets and expensive pajamas, Keating had woken up to find his entire world had been knocked off its axis. Meanwhile, Mickey had woken up in her ratty Van Halen t-shirt, on a bed the size of a Cracker Jack box, in her tiny midtown flat to a text from her friend Annette that contained only two words.
Thank you.
It was the only thanks Mickey was going to get so she’d held the phone tight to her chest and smiled for a long time before finally releasing the breath she’d been holding and getting on with her day. Annette was the only one who knew what Mickey had done and it was best it stayed that way. After all, she’d taken a big gamble hacking a well-known politician even if it had paid off. Not only had she gotten Annette her proof of the rampant sexual harassment happening in the man’s campaign office, but she’d also discovered so much more damaging evidence of his misdeeds. She’d destroyed the power an evil man had been lording over all of those around him and in her own way, she’d made the world a little bit safer and a little bit better.
Thanks wasn’t even necessary. This was why she’d started hacking in the first place. To out the secrets that the rich tried to hide in order to keep the poor that way. To right the wrongs that got buried beneath bureaucracy. She’d wanted to make a difference in the world and today she was riding the high of living the life she’d always wanted, on her own terms, even if she did so at night under the cover of darkness because during the day she was just another white-hat hacker doing good for American’s making sure their banks and other financial institutions were up to date on their cybersecurity so they couldn’t be breached by the likes of people like her with far more sinister plans.
Mickey hummed a few bars of Lizzo’s Truth Hurts as she used one hand to scroll through the news app on her phone, the other hand holding her Starbucks cup to her mouth for a much-needed jolt of energy. She really needed a nap after hacking all night but that wasn’t in the cards. She was already running twenty minutes late for work when she pushed through the doors and headed towards the bank of elevators. She swiped her pass to get her to the twelfth floor and then switched to twitter on her phone, grinning to herself as she read some of the funnier posts dragging Keating through the mud.
The elevator dinged, signaling her floor, and Mickey stepped off with her eyes still firmly glued to her phone. She’d made it about four steps towards her cubicle when the hum of conversation permeated her single-minded attention to Twitter and she glanced up.
All around her, people were huddled in small groups throughout the large, open space. They whispered to each other in hushed tones but there were so many of them talking it was like a loud buzzing swarm had taken over the office. Mickey frowned when she caught more than one group shooting her questioning gazes as she quickly moved through the room towards her own desk.
More than a little confused by the stares she was garnering, Mickey did a quick check of her body. No, she hadn’t been so tired she forgot to change for work. She was wearing her favorite black silk button up with the white polka dots, her wide leg black slacks and the matching Steve Madden heels that managed to make her look half a foot taller than she really was at only 5’4”. She dropped her purse onto her desk and began rummaging inside for her compact, intent on checking her teeth and hair but before she could close her hand around the little gold mirror she knew was inside a voice behind her had her spinning around like a naughty schoolgirl caught cheating.
“Mickey! O.M.G! You’re here! Finally!” Her favorite co-worker, Cameron, hissed as he dragged her into her chair and hopped up onto her desk all in one smooth move, “Have you seen the news? Of course you have. Keating is taking a beating.” Cameron giggled as if he’d come up with the best joke ever and then dipped his head close to hers, “Did you do it?”
“Do what?” Mickey opened her eyes wide but she couldn’t keep the hint of a smile off her lips, not with Cameron.
He knew her better than anyone. There was no point lying. Some men had gaydar. Cameron liked to say he had horrible taste in men because he was only gifted in speaking Mickey, which was sad because it was so true.
They’d met their first day of work and become fast friends when it became clear they were both the youngest and most gifted of the new hires. That had been two years ago and they’d been inseparable ever since. She should have known Cameron would be waiting on her to spill the details as soon as he’d seen the news on Keating but she’d been distracted due to lack of sleep.
“Girl! You have crazy skills. We know that. But this? Taking down Keating? It’s going to make you a fucking legend.” Cameron’s grin was so big his features squished into that adorable boyish face that made him look five years younger and would surely make her want to kiss him if they weren’t both interested in men.
“Except that nobody can know for sure I did it.” Mickey reminded him softly as she slipped her purse over her head and tucked it into the bottom drawer of her desk.
“Take a look around, sweetheart.Everyoneknows you did it.”
Mickey sat back upright and frowned when Cameron gave her a knowing grin, circling his finger around his head, as if pointing out the watching eyes. She winced as she remembered the way everyone had been gathered around whispering when she walked into work, and how they’d stared at her.
They’d been talking about Keating. She’d been sure of that. But she hadn’t realized they’d also been talking about her.
Her lips pursed and she lowered her voice, “That’s impossible. They don’t know anything.”
