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My brother actually laughed at dinner and said, ‘I sold that useless laptop of yours for five hundred bucks. Finally got rid of your junk.’ My cousins cheered him on. Then he added, almost proudly, ‘Already handed it off to the buyer.’ I got up, stepped outside, and called my supervisor. By the time I made the report, the FBI cyber team was already tracking the device…

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had stumbled into machinery much bigger than his own stupidity.

“Was I being watched?” I asked.

Morrow exchanged a glance with the older agent.

“We have no evidence you were personally targeted before the listing,” he said carefully. “After the listing, you became a person of interest to them.”

That was somehow worse.

Not because it made me a spy-thriller continue reading …

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