Honeypot (WAYHAUGHT)

Chapter 3 - Layers

There's so much more under the surface...

Layers, upon layers, upon layers.

How much of the Internet is visible? 100%. 50%. Wrong. 10% tops. Scary, right?

There's the Surface Web, the tiny 10% portion of the Internet available to the public, via search engines like Google. Then there's the Deep Web, invisible to search engines. Think online bank accounts, library catalogues, hospital records. And then, there's the Dark Web, where bad things are traded. Really bad things. Anything you can imagine, including things you are better off not imagining. Stolen information, drugs, disturbing stuff. Like gore, murderers-for-hire, human trafficking, body parts. No place for the naïve. Those who venture need have only one mindset.

Trust no one.

Bitcoin, the Dark Web's go to virtual currency provides buyer and seller anonymity. Hackers operate here, some with a social, ethical agenda. Others for hire, to do illegal activities. Law enforcement officials are there too, to catch those engaged in criminal activity. Playing elaborate, online cat and mouse games.

The taxi pulled up outside Nicole's place. On a main road, a maisonette above an art gallery. Owned by a friend of her father's. Another gallery owner. American. Her family had hoped one day she would take over the family business. It was not to be. They realised at an early age she was more interested in arithmetic than art. They gave her colouring books, she scribbled calculations at the side.

Her parents were not disappointed in her, as such. More confused. Two art lovers creating a daughter who lived and breathed maths. They wondered whether they had taken home the wrong baby from the hospital. A crazy idea. Her height and distinctive red hair meant she was a Haught through and through.

Nicole made her way to the kitchen. She checked the fridge. An unfinished bowl of soggy breakfast cereal from the night before. A tub of guacamole, half eaten. A bottle of gin. She retrieved the guacamole and gin. A loaf of bread, out of date. Perfect, she thought, rolling her eyes. She sat on the sofa in darkness, eating guacamole with a spoon, a large glass of gin on the coffee table in front of her. She needed sleep. She needed to get her life together.

This was no way to live.

She had been separated from Shae for more than a year. Friends at MIT, they shared a love of coding. It started well, both bright, both into sports. It should have worked. Nicole tried so hard to make it work. Interest, turning to lust, turning to love, on her side at least. She sensed Shae becoming distant. Shae began spending more evenings with friends from work. Unplanned, last minute business trips. Nicole had seen a text on Shae's phone. She hadn't meant to. It flashed up while Shae was in the shower. Nicole confronted her. She came clean. She was seeing someone else. They parted. Nicole moved out of their apartment, leaving her heart crushed into the Persian rug they had chosen together.

She focused on her work. When the opportunity presented itself to spend time in London, she grabbed it. A chance to be somewhere, anywhere else. She liked London. Similar to New York, where she grew up. Fast. Buzzing, a different flavour. Working with the UK Government was a novel experience. More intense. A small unit, separate from the main body in Cheltenham, tasked with handling specific cases related to London. Dolls her boss was distant, contemplative. Not a big talker. She liked him. He liked her. He asked her out for a drink one evening. She went. She needed the company. He was more relaxed outside the office, more chatty. He was divorced. He wondered if she was seeing anyone. She explained her situation with Shae.

He got the message.

Jeremy was the department genius. She had met bright people at MIT. Jeremy was seriously fucking bright. Quick to perceive. A natural. Nicole enjoyed discussing the cases with him. He could make her see things she didn't know needed to be seen. He didn't ask her out for a drink.

The alarm on Nicole's phone woke her from a deep sleep. Light streaming in the window hurt her eyes. She had fallen asleep on the sofa. A regular habit. Gin sitting untouched. She would do a food shop later. She needed to shower, change, get back to work. She sat looking at the gin, deciding coffee was a more sensible morning beverage, given the work she had to do. She needed all her faculties.

Dolls and Jeremy were already in the office when she arrived shortly after 8am. She sat looking at her screen. She felt she had never been away from it. Dolls was standing over Jeremy. They were discussing something. Something new. He came over to her desk.

The hacking of power installations had increased in recent months. A more coordinated approach. As if someone was orchestrating on a grand scale. Not just random, single attacks to send a message. More a pattern. Strategic. Having a purpose beyond the attack. Someone wasn't sending a political message. They were after something. Whoever it was had London in their sights. And, they were becoming more confident.

Today's world run by computers. 90% of the activity hidden. Scary, right?