hell? I somehow find my way to the edge of the
bed and open the folder.
Thumbing
through the inch-thick stack of papers that is mostly comprised of
email exchanges, a few things stick out. The majority of the
emails have a logo at the bottom of a black spider with a red
marking. Capitalized, bold letters with cobweb-like filler make
up the word ‘THREADS’, which is typed over top of the spider.
The email addresses on the majority of emails are between two
people— [email protected] and [email protected] .
BW
Threads?
I
stare at the intricate logo design, mainly the spider. BW,
BW, BW , I chant over and over again.
Black
widow.
Curious
about what this organization is, I take out my phone, pull up Google
and do a search. Nothing comes up. Strange. I quickly snap a picture of the logo so that I can do more research
later, stuff my phone in my pocket and sit back down to begin
reading.
From:
[email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date:
February 16th
Subject:
Rumor has it…
The
new face of IA is looking to get his sister a job. Her coding
skills are superb, and from what I’ve gathered from her graduate
advisor at MIT, she respects authority, is a hard worker and is
perhaps a bit naïve. Sounds like the perfect understudy for
you.
This
was written just a month or so before Alexis started at Innovation
Airways in their IT Security department. How could anyone
know I wanted to get Alexis a job there, I wonder as I set the
piece of paper to the side and select another.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date:
April 20th
Subject: Confirmation
needed
The
opening act will begin promptly at 6:30am on October 2nd of next
year. If you’d like me to reserve the Widow a ticket, I need
confirmation.
“ Opening
act?” I mutter to myself. Noticing the date, I put
two-and-two together. October 2nd was the date of Innovation Airways
maiden flight, and the only widow I know was sitting next to me on
the plane. Holy shit. These people planned to sabotage the
plane over a year before it happened? How did no one else know
this? Come to think of it, how did Alexis know this when these
correspondences predate her employment? I can’t believe that
someone would want to hurt Breanne. Maybe the reference is to
someone else.
Setting
the note down, I reluctantly move on to an email exchange between
Alexis and some Henry Ridges guy, discussing the code she wrote and
asking for a few changes. At the time, she’d been employed at
the airline for a number of months. Alexis responds saying that
the code will make the system vulnerable to hackers getting personal
information and using it for financial gain, or worse, make the plane
susceptible to attack. The response from Henry Ridges is ‘do
it’. The entire exchange is forwarded by dashes2 to 515,
along with his comments, “ we’re cutting this close. I’ll
do my best to manage her, but I need her to send me the final coding
before anything further can happen.”
Red
letters are stamped on the front of the next page, which appears to
be a printed copy of a system user’s access log to some folder. Henry Ridges. Directly underneath that with an arrow
pointing to it is ‘dashes2’, and in the bottom corner are the
Roman numerals 515 with a circle around them. Both are written
in Alexis’s handwriting.
So
is Henry her manager and dashes2?
I
hold my forehead with one hand before picking through the next few
emails, which predate the others and outline the time, date and
details of someone’s death. What the fuck, Alexis?
Overwhelmed, I abruptly stand, flinging the documents onto
the bed. Linking my hands above my head, I pace the room in
silence, playing out the information. It’s a lot to digest
and I still have no clue what any of it means. There’s more
to go through, yet I’m not sure I want to at this point.
Needing a
bed and open the folder.
Thumbing
through the inch-thick stack of papers that is mostly comprised of
email exchanges, a few things stick out. The majority of the
emails have a logo at the bottom of a black spider with a red
marking. Capitalized, bold letters with cobweb-like filler make
up the word ‘THREADS’, which is typed over top of the spider.
The email addresses on the majority of emails are between two
people— [email protected] and [email protected] .
BW
Threads?
I
stare at the intricate logo design, mainly the spider. BW,
BW, BW , I chant over and over again.
Black
widow.
Curious
about what this organization is, I take out my phone, pull up Google
and do a search. Nothing comes up. Strange. I quickly snap a picture of the logo so that I can do more research
later, stuff my phone in my pocket and sit back down to begin
reading.
From:
[email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date:
February 16th
Subject:
Rumor has it…
The
new face of IA is looking to get his sister a job. Her coding
skills are superb, and from what I’ve gathered from her graduate
advisor at MIT, she respects authority, is a hard worker and is
perhaps a bit naïve. Sounds like the perfect understudy for
you.
This
was written just a month or so before Alexis started at Innovation
Airways in their IT Security department. How could anyone
know I wanted to get Alexis a job there, I wonder as I set the
piece of paper to the side and select another.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date:
April 20th
Subject: Confirmation
needed
The
opening act will begin promptly at 6:30am on October 2nd of next
year. If you’d like me to reserve the Widow a ticket, I need
confirmation.
“ Opening
act?” I mutter to myself. Noticing the date, I put
two-and-two together. October 2nd was the date of Innovation Airways
maiden flight, and the only widow I know was sitting next to me on
the plane. Holy shit. These people planned to sabotage the
plane over a year before it happened? How did no one else know
this? Come to think of it, how did Alexis know this when these
correspondences predate her employment? I can’t believe that
someone would want to hurt Breanne. Maybe the reference is to
someone else.
Setting
the note down, I reluctantly move on to an email exchange between
Alexis and some Henry Ridges guy, discussing the code she wrote and
asking for a few changes. At the time, she’d been employed at
the airline for a number of months. Alexis responds saying that
the code will make the system vulnerable to hackers getting personal
information and using it for financial gain, or worse, make the plane
susceptible to attack. The response from Henry Ridges is ‘do
it’. The entire exchange is forwarded by dashes2 to 515,
along with his comments, “ we’re cutting this close. I’ll
do my best to manage her, but I need her to send me the final coding
before anything further can happen.”
Red
letters are stamped on the front of the next page, which appears to
be a printed copy of a system user’s access log to some folder. Henry Ridges. Directly underneath that with an arrow
pointing to it is ‘dashes2’, and in the bottom corner are the
Roman numerals 515 with a circle around them. Both are written
in Alexis’s handwriting.
So
is Henry her manager and dashes2?
I
hold my forehead with one hand before picking through the next few
emails, which predate the others and outline the time, date and
details of someone’s death. What the fuck, Alexis?
Overwhelmed, I abruptly stand, flinging the documents onto
the bed. Linking my hands above my head, I pace the room in
silence, playing out the information. It’s a lot to digest
and I still have no clue what any of it means. There’s more
to go through, yet I’m not sure I want to at this point.
Needing a
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