Hack Read Online Free Page B

a true married couple. If Garman hadn’t said anything, I might have thought they were Mr. and Mrs. Smith, stopping for coffee while driving to visit their elderly parents.
    The man was stocky, with the beginnings of a beer gut, and what looked like a constant five o’clock shadow on his chin. The woman was fair-haired, slim, and would have been attractive, if she hadn’t been dressed in a momsy way, which made her look plain. They were both around the same age as my other fed handlers—or so I guessed, but I’m not much good at these things.
    Immediately, Philips and Garman started talking with them as if they were old buddies. Garman’s sullen intensity vanished, and he became chatty, acknowledging the woman and talking to the man. Introductions were made. The man was Richard, and the woman was Hannah. They were, Philips said, the Johnsons. I noticed that Philips was keeping his voice low. We were seated away from the other people, but he kept looking around, as if to make sure that nobody was paying undue attention to us.
    “This is your son, David,” Philips said.

    “Hi, Dad, Mom,” I said somewhat pointedly.

    Philips gave a little shrug, as if to say ‘get used to that.’ Richard nodded a silent acknowledgement, but Hannah smiled cheerfully.
    “Are you ready to go?” Philips said.
    “Yeah,” Richard said. “But let me get some coffee first.”
    He looked at Hannah, who nodded her agreement, and then walked over to the counter. “Can I get two regular coffees to go?” he asked loudly to the waitress, who was at the other end of the counter. Philips paid for our coffees, and he and Garman left a tip for the waitress. I left her the eighty-seven cents in coins that had been sitting unused in an envelope with my other possessions for over half a year. When the coffees arrived, we went outside, and got into the two cars and drove away.
    Within five minutes, we had arrived at a nondescript motel. We went into a cabin, Garman carrying a case. There were only two chairs in the room, so Richard and Hannah stood, and I sat on the bed. Garman opened his case, and took out various cards and passes, and gave them to Philips.
    “Down to business,” Philips said. “This is your new identity.” He handed me the cards.

    “You’re David Johnson, a fifteen-year-old student at Elmwood High. Your father, Richard, works as a security consultant. Your mother Hannah is a homemaker, who works part-time in real estate.” I nodded, looking at the ID cards. I had put together a few ID cards in my time, just out of interest, but these were perfect fakes.
    “You’re transferring in from your old school in Seattle. No need to lie about that. We have already prepped the relevant staff. They won’t ask any stupid questions.” I noticed then that Hannah had also brought in a case, a heavy travel bag.
    That was probably filled with my new identity. One of the things that had constantly amazed me when I had first started hacking and sneaking into computer networks was how important appearance is to laypeople. They often judge a person based on how well he’s dressed. That suited me fine, since it had made my job of convincing people a hell of a lot easier.
    13

    I remember one time when I was standing in the bathroom at home, in an expensive suit that I had rented. I needed to imitate an office worker on a hack that required me to take a field trip to a local office, to get some server details. I was checking out my new hairstyle when my mother walked in. She looked startled, as if her home had been invaded by a well-dressed burglar. I could see her eyes working, trying to figure it out. Then she realized who I was. She didn’t ask, but I felt that I should volunteer an explanation.
    I made up some lie about a job interview, and she seemed to accept it. Later the next day, I took that field trip and managed to get the server information I needed, and on the way home, took the suit back to the shop. But I kept the idea that