in.”
“Zane?” she asked, startled by the obvious relief in his normally composed tone.
“You’re needed in the conference room,” he said.
No sense in wasting time with questions. “I’ll be right there.” The urgency was surely related to the Cohort broadcast. She wouldn’t know how bad it was or how best to help until she got down there.
If she’d thought the building had a jittery vibe downstairs, it paled in comparison to the action in the conference room. A grim resignation pulsed through the air, as various people sat around the long oval table, murmuring stats and updates as they studied laptop monitors. At the head of the table, Fowler Colton, company president, stood with his brother T.C. and their stepbrother Zane. Today the company’s top men wore similar expressions of anger, frustration and grave concern.
Had the Cohort made an attempt on the company already? It seemed impossibly fast, considering the news had just broken.
At a colorful oath, her head swiveled toward the presentation screen along with all the others in the room. Feeds from half a dozen computer monitors, presumably projections from those around the conference table, were displayed for everyone to see.
She walked closer to the screen, disbelief and alarm going to war with that knot of dread in her stomach. Under a black-and-white banner the names of the highest-ranking officers of Colton, Incorporated, were posted, including hers. Alongside each name were personal details, ranging from partial home addresses and phone numbers to bank accounts and social security information. While some of the information was shown for each name, other fields had been completed with Click for More links.
“What site is this?” she asked the room at large.
“Does it matter?” Fowler asked.
“It does,” she replied, thinking of customers and their viewing habits. “We need to get it shut down—”
“Too late, Marie. The first successful breach of the firewall occurred just after five this morning and we’ve been scrambling to stop the digital bleeding ever since.” Zane gave a nod to a young man at the table. “Show her.”
That put the breach two solid hours before Everything’s Blogger in Texas posted the story that Livia wasn’t dead. Marie was trying to make sense of that when the screen flooded with a scroll of more names. She pressed her hand to her lips to smother the alarmed gasp. The Cohort hadn’t just compromised the executives or those with the last name of Colton. It had systematically captured the personal records for everyone in the company.
“How can I help?” she asked, determined to fight back.
“You’re looking at a dark website where the Cohort has started an auction,” Zane told her. “We’ve contacted the FBI. They should be here any minute.”
An auction for this kind of data would be irresistible to thieves, smugglers and human traffickers. The criminals who could afford the information wouldn’t hesitate to use it. Although she had concerns for herself, she was only one person. Her heart sank for the employees and their families over the terrible consequences of identity theft of this magnitude.
How ironic that the Cohort, supposed champions of personal privacy, had just compromised the data of innocent people while she worked relentlessly to protect the information gained by her efforts.
“We have to move quickly and get an identity protection plan in place for everyone.” Each of them faced more than just immediate inconveniences. With just a few hours’ head start, bank accounts and retirement funds were already in jeopardy.
“We are,” Zane said. “There’s more, Marie.”
“I’ve got it here,” a tech offered.
“No,” Zane said. “Send it to my office.” He exchanged a stormy look with his family. His expression softened only slightly, his gaze holding hers while he crossed the room. “Come with me,” he said, holding the door open for her.
What couldn’t he say in front of the team? Her knees went watery under the combined weight of everyone staring at her. They couldn’t possibly believe she had anything to do with this. A breach like this could end her career, even though it wasn’t her fault. Her position as CDO had been a dream come true, allowing her to hit the pinnacle of her professional goals two years earlier than she’d planned. The Coltons had to know she would never jeopardize the opportunity.
To quell the worst-case scenarios stampeding through her mind, she turned her gaze to the stunning view of the city from the uppermost windows of the tower. Dallas sparkled below, rolling with glittering confidence toward the horizon. She remembered school field trips as a kid, standing on the sidewalk, tipping her head way back and staring up at this tower and others nearby. More than the glossy shine of excellent architecture and construction, she’d seen the security and stability she longed for as she watched executives, assistants and employees serving all levels of the businesses inside. Those field trips solidified her personal goals and she set out to achieve what many of those people probably took for granted—a place to belong. A place to make a difference.
“Marie, you should have a seat.” Zane gestured to the visitor’s chair in front of his desk.
She didn’t realize how far afield her mind had wandered until she noticed him politely waiting for her to sit down first. Perching at the edge of the chair, she waited for whatever he didn’t feel he could say in front of the others.
“As I said, the FBI is on the way,” Zane began. “I’m sure once they arrive, we can come up with the best possible solution.”
“Count on me to help out.” She cleared her throat when he frowned. “Security is your area, of course, but whatever I can do to...” Her voice trailed off at his raised hand.
“I appreciate the offer.” Shifting in his chair, he reached for his monitor and turned it so she could see the display, though it remained blank. “Unfortunately, I feel it’s best for you and the company if we keep you far away from this particular situation.”
“Pardon me?” Please don’t kick me to the curb so close to Christmas.
“Our cybersecurity protocols folded almost instantly,” he said, clearly disgusted. “Though we’re chasing down the breach, the FBI will soon take over. We’ve switched our efforts to covering everyone who’s been compromised with identity theft monitoring and protection.”
“Good. You’ve seen the latest blogger headlines?” Her voice sounded weak and she straightened her shoulders. Social media and online trends were only a small aspect of her role. If Colton, Incorporated, wanted to manage the rumors and innuendo and keep customers content, they needed her analysis and assistance with the strategy to overcome this crisis.
Zane scowled. “Yes. It’s ridiculous, though it’s likely to get worse before it’s over.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Marie.” He tapped something on his keyboard and more data from the piracy site flooded the monitor. Names and personal records scrolled through in alphabetical order, much as it had on the screens in the conference room.
When it reached the Ms, the scrolling slowed, rocking a little as the information came to a stop. The process reminded her of a jackpot on a slot machine. Her name on the left. Her social security number dead center, her bank account and balance on the right. In bold red
