Ego had gotten the better of me. I wasn’t going to let it drag me so low again. And I was determined to do what I had been sent to Richmond for: my damn job.

I walked into the conference room ten minutes later. I was the last person to arrive so every single pair of eyes shot in my direction. I wasn’t a fan of laser-focused attention, but there was nothing to do about it.

I slid into the chair closest to the door, wishing my boss weren’t giving me the look of death in front of all of the other agents. He could at least attempt to hide his disdain.

I wasn’t entirely sure what I had done to make him hate me, but ever since I had arrived at the Richmond office, Derek Sanders had been treating me like public enemy number one. I got the shittiest assignments, the most hopeless cases. My amazing record of busts and convictions had dwindled into nonexistence. It was as if the jackass was setting me up to fail.

And that irritated the shit out of me. Because I didn’t like to fail at anything.

“Are we keeping you from something important, Agent Kohler? A pedicure, perhaps?” Derek asked, his lip curling as if I were crap on his shoe.

I cleared my throat and swallowed my anger at being singled out so publicly. It was my fault for being late, after all. I should have known better.

“No, sir. I apologize for being late,” I responded, meeting my superior’s eyes directly.

Derek’s brows knitted together and he quickly looked away, clearly disappointed that I hadn’t snapped my answer, giving him an excuse to reprimand me.

I had learned the hard way with Derek Sanders that fighting back got me nowhere except in trouble.

Agent Sanders turned to a whiteboard split up into a lined table with a list of familiar names. Names that every agent in the room should have known by heart.

“We’ve been passed a few new cases, so it’s time to divvy them up. I know everyone’s caseloads are high at the moment, but these are now our highest priorities.” Derek circled the first name on the list.

“Sayid Hanano, age twenty-two. Prominent member of the SEA. Wanted for cybercrimes, including conspiracy relating to a hoax terrorist attack in July of 2015. Also wanted for access device fraud and unlawful access to stored communications.” Derek turned around, his eyes roving over the twelve agents assembled in the room.

My foot bounced in anticipation. I wanted the case. I had been tracking the Syrian Electronic Army—SEA for short—for the past three years. I had helped bring in Zaahid Moradi, a leading member and the person responsible for the CIA megabreach, just last year. It was my kind of case. The kind that could make me a hero.

And I really liked being the hero.

Derek’s eyes rested on me and I thought that maybe he’d actually give me a case that mattered, instead of handing me something I had no chance of solving.

But no luck. His eyes continued to float around until he zeroed in on Madison Armiger.

“Madison, you and Chaz will be point on this one. You’ll need to collaborate with Quantico. It’s believed Sayid is in Richmond. This is a time-sensitive case.”

Madison and Chaz Edwards, a douche in a bad suit, looked ready to burst. It was a big case. One that could make your career and set you up for promotion. Everyone knew it.

“Yes, sir. We’ll get this guy,” Chaz enthused like the loser he was. Madison was excited, even though it was kind of hard to tell. She didn’t emote like normal people. Her emotions were all buried under a mountain of repressive seriousness. Which made her kind of fucking creepy.

“I know you two are the right ones for this case,” Agent Sanders responded. Why did I feel that was a jab at me?

Probably because it was.

Derek turned back to the whiteboard and went down the list of four more names. Each one would have been a great case to work on. Each one was given to someone else.

Until Derek came to the final name on the board.

No. Please don’t give me that one….

“Agent Kohler, you and Agent Winston will work on the Freedom Overdrive case.” Derek wrote my name beside Perry Winston’s on the whiteboard. I wanted to groan in frustration.

“I thought Quantico had closed that case.” I said.

Agent Sanders cocked an eyebrow and gave me a grim smile that I imagined held a hint of malicious glee. “He’s been active again, it seems. Took credit for a big DDoS attack on Stanford Pharmaceuticals just last month. Quantico has bumped our favorite hacktivist up to high priority.”

Our favorite hacktivist, my ass.

Freedom Overdrive—or Freed0m0v3rdr1v3, as the cracker was known in online communities—had been a thorn in the Bureau’s side for almost four years. He came to prominence after a massive data breach involving thousands of confidential files belonging to a well-reputed pharmaceuticals company that was known for its progressive work in developing new cancer-fighting drugs. These files, which were posted online, showed that this seemingly trustworthy organization was in fact using monies meant for continued research to fund the CEO’s fancy beach house in the Bahamas, as well as crazy weekends in Vegas for the board. The company’s “great” work in providing needed medications to millions of people turned out to be completely bogus; in truth it was systematically gouging customers. Setting prices that made the medications unaffordable to the people who needed them most.

The breach caused the company to shut down in the face of public outrage. Clearly Freedom Overdrive had done what he had set out to do. And deep down I wasn’t too cut up about it.

But this hacktivist was a criminal. He had broken the law. And the Bureau had used a lot of resources trying to bring him down. But he had always stayed a step ahead. Almost taunting us.

“If we haven’t caught him yet, what makes them think we ever will?” Perry muttered under his breath, but Agent Sanders heard him as clearly as if he had shouted.

The senior agent’s face turned an unhealthy shade of red and his eyes popped. “Agent Winston, if that is your attitude, you have no business being in this building. You have no business carrying that badge. If you really think that, I’d like you to rethink your career choice and not come in tomorrow.”

Perry swallowed audibly and I could only shake my head. Sure, we all had those thoughts, but most of us weren’t stupid enough to say them out loud. Being an agent required you to perfect the art of biting your tongue.

“No, sir. I’m sorry, sir,” Perry exclaimed quickly.