The Alexander & Macgregor Incident: Case #1: It’S Complicated.

By A. L. Clark

Lillian Lilly Alexander, a brilliant nonconformist software engineer from New York City, has just suffered from the loss of her father, a top-secret software engineer for the US government. One day, Lilly receives a message from a mysterious source who informs her that the people responsible for her fathers death were members of a cyber terrorist group known as Revolt, and as a result, she devises her own plan to get revenge. As Lilly goes to put her plan into motion, she finds herself in an unexpected situation when she is framed by the people she was out to get and finds herself in handcuffs at the mercy of the FBI.

Little does Lilly know that the FBI has been keeping tabs on her while trying to figure out a way to take her into their custody for the purpose of recruitment. After Lilly is apprehended, she is introduced to Special Agent Jonathan MacGregor, an Interpol agent and newly assigned liaison with the FBI who manages to assist successfully in her recruitment as a computer consultant in hopes of utilizing her skills when it comes to combating the cyber terrorist group Revolt. Little does Agent MacGregor know that his job has now gotten even more complicated.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 10, 2017
• ISBN: 9781524621087

A. L. Clark

A. L. Clark currently resides in Los Angeles, California. She has a background and degree in computer science. She has a fondness for all the sciences, loves music, even plays music, and writes poetry. Lastly, she is an unconventional individual who would like to give the world a little peek into her mind.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Coffee, Tea, or … Meh

I t was nine thirty Monday morning when Lilly reached her destination, a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop on Broadway and Lafayette. From the very moment she entered the joint, she noticed the stares directed at her from the clientele. Making her way up to the counter, she placed her order for a large lemon tea. The stares didn’t seem to bother her, for this was something she had gotten used to over the years.

Lilly was a reasonably tall woman. She was about five foot nine, toned, and slightly athletic in stature. Her clothing of choice often consisted of a heavy-metal rock band T-shirt, black jeans, a black faux-fur duster sweater, combat boots, and spiked bracelets. Heavy, dark makeup surrounded her almond-shaped brown eyes. She wore thick-framed black glasses that accentuated her roundish face. Her brown hair was long and wavy with purple highlights woven wildly through it. To onlookers, she appeared a geeky gamer girl of some sort. However, if she chose to dress in a normal way, she would be the cute girl next door.

Lilly gave her order to the apprehensive barista. A large lemon tea, please.

The barista was an average guy in his early twenties with short, light-brown hair and striking green eyes. He was dressed in a green shirt, khakis, a black hat, and an apron. He looked bewildered upon his first glance at Lilly. He nervously grabbed one of the cups from the stack.

Lilly, leaning in toward the barista, whispered, Dude … are you high? The name’s Lilly. Do you need me to spell it out? Dude, I’m in here every day. She said this with an air of amusement as she took some cash out of her wallet to pay for her drink.

The barista replied, No, miss. Your tea will be ready shortly.

Lilly walked over to the pick-up counter to wait for her drink. Nearby, a balding, middle-aged man in a gray suit, who was sitting in one of the corner booths, looked up from his smartphone and gawked at Lilly. He continued watching her as she read the ads on the corkboard. One of the ads that captured her immediate attention said the coffee shop would be holding an event this weekend that featured poetry readings and music. As her eyes skimmed over other ads tacked on the board, Lilly felt as though she was being scrutinized again. She glanced over her shoulder at the man in the gray suit, only to meet his eyes in exasperation.

Take a picture; it’ll last longer! she exclaimed.

The man lifted one of his eyebrows and subsequently looked back down at his smartphone to finish what he was doing. Lilly grinned and then heard the barista announce, Order for Lilly.

She made her way back to the counter to pick up her tea and began searching for a place to sit. Despite meeting the eyes of various people in the shop, she went on to find a booth near the window, facing east on Broadway. It was late winter and had rained that morning. Even inside, Lilly could smell the clean scent of the outdoors and see patches of blue sky since the clouds had not completely cleared. She took her seat and watched the people walking by outside, trying to size them up. After a few minutes of gawking at random people, she reached into her purse and took out her cell phone to check the time.

Five weeks ago, Lilly had just returned home after flying out to San Francisco for her father’s funeral. Her father, Jeff Alexander, had been a contracted software engineer who had been working with the US government since January 2000. To this day Lilly never knew how he managed to have landed the government job in the first place. She had always remembered him giving her vague answers whenever she inquired about the job. Lilly’s last memory of her father was the phone call she received from the airport in Norway. Her father called to let her know that his flight had gone smoothly and to tell her how much he loved her.

Lilly opened the door to her small apartment, located in a semi-nice part of Brooklyn. She dropped her suitcase and backpack on the floor and quickly locked the door behind her. Her eyes were still red and swollen from the long periods she spent crying over the loss of her father. His death left a huge void in her life. He was not only her father but he was also her best friend. Jeff Alexander was the only man in the world she trusted. Upon hearing the news of his death, which was ruled by Norwegian authorities as suspicious in nature, she found herself in the darkest place she had ever been in her life. At first she didn’t know exactly how to react, but eventually reality set in. Lilly completely lost it. Her entire kitchen floor was littered with glass from all the dishes and cups she had smashed. She was completely devastated, out of her mind with grief, and she went into a rage.

A depressed sigh escaped from Lilly’s mouth as she made her way back from the emotional madness to calm. Looking at the floor with all the broken dishes, she turned and walked to her computer desk and sat down. She didn’t care much about the kitchen or the luggage she had left on the floor; she figured that she’d get to unpacking whenever and cleaning up when she felt like it. She turned on her computer and waited for it to boot up while occasionally looking at a picture of her with her parents when she was ten years old. The photo sat on the desk next to the computer and was her last memory of a reasonably normal, happy family. The picture was taken a year before her mother died of cancer. Tears welled up in her eyes.

Now I’m all alone in this pathetic world, she thought.

Lilly took her tear-filled eyes off of the picture and looked at the computer screen. She typed her password to access the desktop. As she sat waiting for the desktop to load and attempting to prevent herself from having another crying spell, a message suddenly popped up on the screen. It read, Don’t cry, Lilly … don’t cry.

Confused and apprehensive, Lilly didn’t know what to make of the mysterious message. She felt her heart start to race as she came to the conclusion that she was in the process of being hacked. She was about to pull the power cord from the electrical socket when she saw a new message pop up:

Lilly … we need to talk. It’s urgent. Don’t turn off your computer.

Lilly typed a reply, assuming that it was Matt.

A few weeks prior to the loss of her father, Lilly went to a music supply store to purchase replacement strings for her cello. A tall, blond, studious-looking guy approached her. He made it his mission to strike up a conversation with her in one of the aisles. They stood there awhile talking about music, which led to the topic of technology. Matt told her that he was the owner of a start-up software engineering company, and Lilly, attempting to be polite, mentioned that she had earned a master’s degree in software engineering when she was only fifteen. He subsequently stated that he was always on the lookout for new talent and gave her a business card. She left the music store, and that’s when Matt’s stalking began. For days after the meeting, she would see him around the area. It was as though he was watching her, following her. She finally had about enough of his weirdness and ran up to him one day (with a baseball bat), demanding to know what his deal was. At that point, he begged her to join his company. Her answer, of course, was Hell to the no!

Lilly typed her reply: Who is this? It better not be you, Matt … I’m not playing!

She waited for a response and became even more confused when she got the reply. No, this isn’t Matt … in fact, I need to talk to you about him. He isn’t who he says he is.

Lilly sighed and then typed her response. Who is this? Why are you hacking into my computer, and why do you need to talk to me about Matt?

Her heart began pounding when she read the reply: "Lilly, Matt is an informant with the cyber group Revolt. Revolt was behind your father’s death. I tell you this for your own safety. Do not, I repeat, do not let them recruit you. It’s a trap!"

Lilly gasped and typed another reply. Who are you? How do you know me?

The next message popped up on the screen and read, My contact name is TH3 531DR, and I personally knew your father … He was a great man.

The moment Lilly read that the anonymous contact knew who her father was, she felt her eyes well up with tears. She typed her reply. How do you know my father? How do I know that you’re not an informant with Revolt?

A response popped up on the screen: On December 31, 1999, your father saved millions of lives. He not only saved my life … he saved yours as well, and we didn’t even know about it.

The response from the anonymous stranger made Lilly erupt into full-fledged sobbing. She saw another message pop up underneath that caught her immediate attention:

I guarantee you that I am in no way associated with Revolt and that I am here to help you by informing you to stay clear of Matt! Don’t join his cause because they’ll use you and perhaps set you up. Heed my warning, Lilly! I’ll contact you soon.

The message promptly disappeared from her screen. Lilly’s face turned red as her anger boiled over. The thought that Revolt was behind her father’s death played over and over in her mind. She got up from her seat and ran into the kitchen. Throwing the cupboard open, she began taking out more of her anger on the remaining porcelain plates and glass cups. All she could think about was getting revenge on those who took away the only human being on the planet who ever mattered to her. After minutes of violently smashing the plates on the kitchen floor, she froze as an idea began to jell in her mind, and her tears of anger suddenly evaporated into a smile. In midswing, Lilly put down the plate that she was about to smash on the counter and calmly walked to the foyer to get the backpack she had left by the front door. She sat down on the sofa with the backpack and started digging through its pockets until she found Matt’s business card. She reached into her pocket for her cell phone and froze again. A sudden thought came to mind.

No, then he would track you. And if your plan fails and the authorities pull up your phone records, they’ll link you to him, she thought.

Lilly closed her backpack, got up from the sofa, and swung her backpack over her shoulder. She placed her cell phone back into her pocket, quickly grabbed her keys, and left the apartment. Her objective now was to find a pay phone outside of the area in which she lived. The plan was to contact Matt, arrange a meeting with him, and trick him into thinking that she had finally made up her mind and wanted to join. Then, perhaps, she would use the facilities to set him up. As she made her way toward the subway station a few blocks away, she began running through her mind every scenario about how the plan would work. She knew that if and when the time came, she would have to be quick thinking, calculating, and able to improvise when needed. She also started thinking about what TH3 531DR had said about Matt being an informant with the cyber group Revolt. She knew about the one thing the group specialized in, which was hacking. When she finally got to the subway, she immediately began searching for a pay phone, and when she had finally located one, she took out Matt’s business card and called his number. After a few rings, he answered.

Hello? he said.

Yes, my name is Lilly. I need to speak with Matt.

Oh yes, Lilly! Hey, what can I do for ya? Matt said.

Well, I was wondering if you were still hiring at your company, Lilly said.

Yes … I am. Why?

Well, I did some thinking and— Lilly said before she was interrupted.

Ya changed your mind? Matt asked abruptly.

Yeah, I did. I’m interested, Lilly replied.

Awesome. Okay, um, I can have ya come down here and try out for the position tomorrow at two thirty if that’s all right with you, Matt said.

"Sure, I’m free. And when ya said try out, what does that entail, may I ask?" Lilly said.

To try out means that I need a demonstration of what you can do … ya know, Matt replied.

Sure, I’ll be there. What’s the address? Lilly said, continuing to smirk.

Lilly wrote the address on the back of the business card and said good-bye. After placing the card back into her wallet, she began to make her way out of the subway station. As she walked, she began plotting her next move, which would be to provide Matt with a sample of what she could do and to find a way to leave it for him without having it traced back to her. Lilly walked back to her apartment whistling the melody to Habanera from the opera Carmen by Georges Bizet.

CHAPTER 2

The Three Misters

S hortly after checking the time, Lilly gazed out the window again. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Matt staring at her from across the street. Matt. The lanky guy with long blond hair , she thought. The guy who had been following Lilly for weeks had his hair pulled up into a man bun. He wore thin, wire-framed glasses, a green hooded sweatshirt jacket, faded blue jeans, and skater shoes, with a courier’s book bag wrapped around his body. He crossed the street and made his way toward the entrance of the coffee shop. Lilly shifted slightly in her seat. Oh God, no! she thought and took another sip of her tea. Matt stood there for a few moments. Peering around the place, he finally spotted Lilly sitting in the booth by the window. Matt walked over to greet her.

Hello, stranger! he said.

And exactly why are ya here? Don’t ya get the hint, dude? The answer’s no! Lilly whispered angrily so as not to make a scene, How did you find me?

Listen … and please let me explain, He pleaded.

Matt put down his courier bag and took a seat across from Lilly. She frowned indignantly. Did I say, ‘Oh Matt, please have a seat’? No, I didn’t. Lilly turned red with anger.

There’s no explaining this, man … No means no! Plus, like I told ya before, I don’t think you can afford me anyway. she added.

Don’t you understand? You’re a part of us now! Matt said.

Excuse me? Um, since when exactly? Hell, I never even got the memo, man. Lilly said with a hint of sarcasm.

Matt peered around the coffee shop only to notice a man in a gray suit gazing in his general direction, as if he was straining to hear their conversation. He then lowered his head and moved in closer toward Lilly.

Lilly, listen to me. You would be an asset to us. You’re smarter than all of us put together, and what you did … what you wrote proves that. We need someone like you. he said in a lower tone of voice.

Matt, I’m going to say this one … last … time, and I’m gonna say it slow-ly. I’m not joining ya. Now leave me the fuck alone! Lilly shouted.

All heads in the coffee shop turned in the direction of Lilly and Matt.

Listen to me, Lilly. I’m going to make this simple for you. Just come back and go along with it. See what happens. Everything will be okay, Matt assured.

No! Lilly yelled.

Enraged, Lilly stood up from the booth, violently grabbing her backpack. As she took a step past Matt to make her way out of the coffee shop, he suddenly grabbed her arm hard and flashed her a smug expression. He spoke to her in a menacing tone.

Once you leave, you will … regret this.

In an ominous tone of voice, Lilly countered the threat. No, Matt, that’s where you’re wrong. You and your group of amateurs will be the ones who will regret this. I swear.

Lilly quickly jerked her arm free of his grasp and stormed out of the coffee shop. A few customers stared at Matt and then at her as she stormed out, but she paid no attention to the onlookers. The man in the gray suit, who had watched the confrontation from start to finish, sat there thinking to himself, Damn! She’s got fire in her.

Determined, Lilly focused on getting out of the coffee shop as quickly as possible before there was a bigger scene. Matt peered out the window, watching her as she stormed off toward the subway station. Matt opened his courier book bag to get out his cell phone to make a call. After a few rings, someone finally answered.

So, um, what’s the story, bro? the voice on the other end asked.

Tried once again to convince her otherwise. I think we’ve lost her permanently. My bosses aren’t gonna like this one bit. Damn! She’s really good too! Matt said.

That’s too bad, man. Anyway, whatcha want us to do now? the voice on the other end asked.

Do the deed now. She should be arriving there in an hour or so. Make it quick; leave no prints, Matt commanded.

Okay, dude. the voice on the other end replied.

Oh yeah, um, text me when you’re outta there so I can make the call, okay? Matt said.

All right then … the voice on the other end said. Click.

Back at Lilly’s apartment, three intruders dressed in dark clothing and ski masks stood outside her door, keeping watch for any movement in the hallway or down the stairwell. One of the intruders (aka Mr. Lock Picker) seemed to be focused on getting the door open. The second intruder, Mr. Lookout, who was keeping watch in the hallway, turned around and lightly punched Mr. Lock Picker on the shoulder.

Hey, man, hurry the fuck up! Quit fucking around! Mr. Lookout exclaimed.

I was almost there if someone hadn’t punched me in the arm … Ha-ha, there it goes! Mr. Lock Picker countered.

The door swung open, and all three intruders hurried inside the apartment. Mr. Lookout quickly and quietly closed the door with his foot. He sat a duffel bag down on the coffee table and unzipped it. Mr. Lock Picker took out a laptop and a USB storage drive and made his way over to Lilly’s desk. He plugged the laptop and USB drive into her desktop computer. He executed the bypass program in order to gain access to the computer.

The third intruder, Mr. Stopwatch, was the official timekeeper for the group. We have fifty-eight minutes starting … now! he announced.

All right, let’s do this then, Mr. Lock Picker said.

He started transferring the document folders on the USB drive to Lilly’s desktop computer. The incriminating evidence that was being planted contained personal clientele information, money transfer records, an old broken Linux code, IP addresses, routing tables, and the financial institution’s ghost code that Revolt hacked two years earlier. This type of evidence was enough not only to send a person to prison, but also to bury that person underneath the prison and cement him or her in. As the files were being uploaded to the computer, Mr. Lookout took his cell phone out of his pocket and started texting. The text was to let Matt know that Operation: Snowblower had commenced.

Mr. Stopwatch checked the time while Mr. Lock Picker was handling the uploading.

Time? Mr. Lock Picker asked.

Fifteen minutes … mark, Mr. Stopwatch announced.

Extremely bored, Mr. Lookout picked up one of Lilly’s magazines and began skimming through the pages. Just then he felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket and grabbed it. The text message was from Matt.

Mr. Lookout read it out loud. Matt texted, ‘Remember to wipe down anything you touched, but you all should be wearing gloves.’

Mr. Stopwatch cringed and said, I haven’t been touching anything, so I don’t need no gloves, bro.

Mr. Lock Picker said, Shit! I didn’t think about gloves. He turned and looked at Mr. Lookout. Did you remember to bring gloves and towels to wipe the place down?

"I only touched this magazine, and I’m going to take it with