Who Is She?

Chapter 63

"Can you send me the USB by the end of the week. It's urgent." Casey said into the phone as she walked through the pathway leading to the solitary prison,  her heels clacking against the concrete floor making a rather loud noise in the silent corridor.

It was specially made for the notorious criminals who have committed heinous crimes.

"Sure, why would you want it tho?" Her friend asked curiously, Casey could almost hear the lollipop move in his mouth to the other side, and getting trapped under his tongue.

"Reasons."

"I know, some stupid FBI stuff. But why me? You have one like that yourself, why do you want the USB to be connected to my laptop?" Rolling his eyes he asked, perplexed.

The USB which not many people could get their hands on- even the most notorious hackers- could end up in a big mess if used recklessly.

It had the power to transfer the data from one computer to the other discreetly, without even the person operating the computer knowing.

The USB will let the person believe they are the ones using the computer whereas in reality, someone else is infiltrating their data behind the scenes without their knowledge.

It's software has been developed with extreme care it will not leave any traces, so the USB can't be traced back to the person whom it actually belongs to.

Nor can it be manipulated to work in anyone else's favor once it has been developed and operated by someone.... 

"I.... will be busy." Casey gave a vague reply.

"W-"

"I need to go, I will call you back later." She quickly said before hanging up, arriving at the cell of the man she wanted to meet.

She held her ID up for the 2 police men in blue to see and calmly took a sip from the coffee cup she was holding in the other hand.

They looked at each other for a moment, as if silently communicating with their eyes if they should let her in or ask her to scram.

After all, they were given stern orders they shouldn't let anyone meet with the criminal inside without courts order, but Casey wasn't just 'anyone'. She was an FBI agent.

The other man looked at her for a second, scanning her from head to toe before giving the other man a subtle nod.

"10 minutes." The prison guard gruffed out, turning around- likely- to punch some buttons on the lockpad to let her in.

The other one coughed loudly, gaining her attention. He locked her with his piercing gaze. Though he didn't say it, Casey knew he didn't want her to look at the pin in case she used for some nefarious reasons.

People are too paranoid.

But then again, Casey was exactly that sort of person. Using even the littlest things to her benefits, a survival tactic she'd learnt at a young age to fend for both her sister and herself. At least a few years back she was that sorta person.

The door pinged and the metal door slid through the hinges, stopping halfway to give room for one person to enter at a time.

She looked at the entrance before hardening herself, she took a deep breath- mentally encouraging herself- and stepped into the tiny metal cell before the door automatically closed itself behind her. Leaving her standing in front of a place that looked like an hospital room with the walls painted white.

"Mr. Matthews." She acknowledged the shrivel man holed up in the corner with white clothes, his hands wrapped around himself as a form of comfort or to ward off loneliness- she wasn't sure.