Bianca held the phone out to her. “And did you know he’s using a creepy serial killer nickname now?” She paused for effect. “The Cipher.”
When Nina didn’t react, Bianca let out an impatient huff. “Well? What do you think about the name?”
Nina closed her eyes briefly. “I’d already heard.” She sipped at her coffee. “This isn’t helping our investigation. Do people who respond to his posts realize they’re feeding his ego?”
“I’m sure some of them do,” Bianca said. “But they can’t help themselves, you know?”
She did know. “Now that he’s got an audience, he’ll feel compelled to give them a show.”
“But you’ll stop him before he can do anything else. I mean, the FBI has every computer geek they’ve got tracking this guy down, right?”
“First, they’re not geeks. They’re highly trained agents and analysts.” When Bianca raised a pierced brow, Nina added, “Okay, so some of them may log too many screen hours, but they’re good at what they do. Which is why it’s so frustrating.”
“What? That the FBI’s being outsmarted by a psycho or that they’re being out-geeked by college students?”
She knew Bianca hid her concern under a thick layer of snark. Like many foster children, Bianca had learned to conceal her emotions with dark humor, outward hostility, or feigned indifference. Nina had done the same when she was in the system. She understood that Bianca was worried about her.
“I’ve got something to tell you,” Bianca said, not quite meeting her eyes.
Her cop antennae went up. “What?”
“I put a team together. A select group of com-sci majors like me.” She glanced down. “Gamers, coders, and hackers that could put the feeb dweebs to shame.”
Bianca had graduated from high school at fourteen, winning a full-ride presidential scholarship to George Washington University. On target to receive a bachelor of science at the end of the semester, she’d set her sights on a master’s degree next.
Nina didn’t like where this was going. Resting her cup on the coffee table, she leaned forward and gave Bianca her best federal-agent-demanding-answers scowl. “Spill it. Now.”
Bianca lifted her chin. “We’re going to shut him down.” When Nina simply waited, she snuggled the cat closer before elaborating. “He said he’s going to post a link to a new YouTube channel once he gets it set up.”
Breck hadn’t mentioned the video streaming at the Boardroom last night. The Cipher could attract an even bigger audience with more visual content. She didn’t want to consider what else he might decide to show the public either.
She would speak to Breck later. Right now, she had other concerns. “How do you plan to shut him down?”
“Hello? Remember when I mentioned we’re com-sci?” Bianca said as if the answer was obvious. “We hack in and take him offline. Show him he can’t get away with posting whatever bullshit he wants.” Her eyes narrowed. “We’re going to fight back.”
She considered how best to put a stop to the scheme, but she knew Bianca was too much like her to back down without a good reason. It sounded like Bianca had already put the plan in motion. There was no time for a policy debate at Quantico.
She came to a decision. “I’ll share a couple of things with you, but if you post a single word of this conversation, or repeat it to anyone else, I’ll run over that phone of yours with my car.” She watched Bianca stroke the cat’s short, thick fur while the threat sank in.
“No need to go all agent badass on me,” Bianca said. “I won’t say shit to anyone.”
Nina let out a sigh. Breck’s blast text to the team thirty minutes ago had started the day on a frustrating note. Every major social media platform had responded to their emergency subpoenas, but the unsub’s profiles had all been as fake and untraceable as Breck had predicted.
“Truth is, we’re not making any headway tracking this guy down,” she said to Bianca. “He knows what he’s doing.”
“He must have set up his accounts from somewhere. Can’t you snag him through servers?”
“He’s a cyberghost.”
“Then shutting him down will stop him.”
Not this again. “You can’t, Bee.”
“Sure we can. It’s easy, we just—”
“I meant to say, we don’t want you to.” She pushed her fingers through her hair. “The whole reason I’m even sharing this much is to convince you and your friends to back off. Because if I don’t, you’ll just go ahead and do it anyway, won’t you?”
They stared at each other until the cat squirmed in Bianca’s arms. She bent to put him down. “Why do you want this guy putting out his crap? It’s twisted.”
“We discussed it at Quantico yesterday afternoon,” Nina said. “We decided that—for now—it’s better to let him keep posting.” She lifted her palms. “He might give himself away.”
Bianca tilted her head in thought, jet-black ponytail falling to one side. “You’re also betting your guys can ping him somehow, aren’t you?”
The girl was wicked smart. Emphasis on wicked. Nina jabbed a finger at her. “You and your friends leave this to us. Don’t interfere with a federal investigation.”
Bianca rested a hand on her hip. “News flash, Agent Guerrera, the whole country is interfering. Isn’t that what you literally just told me you guys were talking about yesterday?”
Nina ignored the attitude. “I can’t protect the whole country. But I can damn well protect one seventeen-year-old girl who is messing with something she doesn’t understand.” She grew serious. “Something . . . evil.”
“Oh, I understand evil,” Bianca said quietly. “I understand it just fine.”
She’d met Bianca four years ago when she was a Fairfax County police officer, and Bianca was a troubled thirteen-year-old serial runaway. When Bianca had disappeared for the umpteenth time, Nina set out to find her, scouring every known teen hangout on her beat until she located the girl. Over burgers, Nina got Bianca to open up by sharing her own past. After learning why Bianca had run, she arrested the couple who had been her foster parents at the time, arranging for Bianca to stay with her for a few days until CPS could find an appropriate new situation for her. The instant Mrs. Gomez had spotted Bianca, she found new purpose. The Gomez children were all grown, and Mrs. G quickly convinced her husband to fill their empty nest with foster kids. Starting with a precocious adolescent with the intellect of an adult. A loving home environment had softened Bianca’s hard edges.
Nina didn’t want her to play the Cipher’s game and backslide into a dark place after coming so far. She strode over to grasp the girl’s slender shoulders. “Don’t underestimate him, mi’ja. I’ve looked into his eyes.” She suppressed a shudder. “He has no soul.”
Apparently conceding the point, Bianca tried another approach. “Maybe you guys should post on some of his social media accounts.”
“Because we want to encourage him?”
“If you want him to give himself away, then get him talking,” Bianca said.