Unauthorized

Chapter 5: Hacker

A lightening of the sky and the tightness of an overfull bladder made Liv lean back and stretch. Glancing at the time confirmed she'd lost yet another night looking for a backdoor into IQ Security's financial accounts.

It had taken several evenings of painstaking data analysis before she felt confident in her identification, but she was now sure that that company and its founder, Imogen Quinn, were the most influential links Lewis had uncovered in his research for this story. She, or her people, had to be the ones who had beaten him.

After reviewing every lead her brother had collected and following the money, Quinn was in her sights. She just needed to crack the financials to have iron-clad proof that even Narinder, with his sterling integrity, couldn't turn down.

Liv cracked her neck, turning her head side to side and massaging a knot in her shoulder. The last time she'd spoken to Lewis, she'd warned him to be careful. He'd stopped listening to her long before that. Despite everything – their argument, the following estrangement, his abandonment of her when her life was spiraling into a clusterfuck – she wished it hadn't come to this.

Lewis had been close to connecting all the dots; he might have managed it had he come to her for help. Quinn's people must have picked up the whiff of journalistic curiosity before he could get everything lined up and published.

Given what she was reading about the large-scale corruption of the London Met, Liv wasn't surprised the police weren't doing much to investigate his case. The more she uncovered, the more certain she was that she'd have to turn her technical talents to finding Lewis's attackers and secure his safety on her own.

The press of Liv's bladder grew impossible to ignore and the glow of her three monitors lit the way to the toilet. She took care of her needs, mulling over the problem as she finished and brushed her teeth.

Her mind wandered over the challenge she'd been wrestling with. It was taking too long to break this firewall; she had to be missing something. In the meantime, her work at the Delphi Commission was starting in...four hours. Shit. That left three to get some sleep.

As she faceplanted into bed, something kept nagging her. There had to be another way in. She was almost there, she could feel it. A backdoor would help...

"Fuck you, Quinn," she mumbled to the pillow. "Nobody beats up my brother and gets away with it." She would settle the score, no matter what it took.

***

Another day of trying to help people with my hands tied, Liv thought as she trudged into her office. The thought scratched at the back of her mind. There had to be more she could do.

She checked her to-do list and the reports she had set to run before leaving yesterday. Sending them to the people who'd requested them only took a few minutes and she opened the Evening Standard website before starting on the next batch.

The headline announced a new series on the plight of London's climate refugees. One had been found murdered a few days prior. Others were struggling to survive in government-designated zones which, the Standard proclaimed, were rife with disease and run by corrupt bureaucrats.

I can't, Liv thought, scrolling down the page without reading. I'm doing what I can. Right?

An editorial by Narinder Singh caught her eye. The police had closed the case into Lewis's beating. She was surprised that the police hadn't contacted her. Relieved, but still surprised, even if that meant it all added up. She and Narinder were the only ones who cared.

The editor's article implored anyone with information to come forward. The Standard was offering a cash reward, highlighting Lewis's contributions to the community with his reporting.