Invasion of Privacy: A Deep Web Thriller #1 (Deep Web Thriller Series) (67 page)

You can already feel your hard-on returning in the excitement. 

You walk across the empty space to the other side of the room.

You look down at the two prone bodies. They are both beautiful. This will be amazing. 

But which one should you choose first? Do you want the policewoman first, the one that looks most like
her
? Or do you want to save the policewoman to last? But then you’re thinking about how long you might have to wait in-between. You’ll need time to get it up again. And what if you can’t? It’s happened before.

You kick the legs of the other one, the policewoman’s friend. No reaction.

A voice booms out from all around. You look up in complete confusion. 

Magnus Peggler, stop where you are! We have the place surrounded. Drop the knife.

You freeze, completely baffled. You look around, but there’s no one there. 

And then you are hit in the stomach and begin to stumble backwards.

* * *

Jenny threw herself with all her might at Peggler.

She was weak, she knew that, but it was the only moment when he would be distracted enough.

Brody’s voice had given her the chance they needed. She could sense Fiona right behind her.

She felt a crashing blow on the back of her head and she lost her grip, falling face down to the floor. She could see Peggler’s shoeless feet retreating backwards. He had dropped his tablet PC but held onto the knife.

She saw Fiona run past her and then suddenly halt.

Peggler was waving his huge dagger in front of him, side to side in slashing movements. It was a defence tactic, but it would be lethal to charge him now, unarmed as they were.

Jenny picked herself up off the floor and stood side by side with Fiona.

“Drop the knife, Peggler.”

“You’re under arrest.”

“Nooooo!” he wailed in his high-pitch voice, retreating backwards towards the exit. 

Jenny and Fiona advanced in unison, keeping the same distance. 

Be careful, Jenny.
 

Brody’s voice emanated from the speakers.

Slowly Peggler made it back to the exit. Still slashing the knife in front of him, he pressed his pass on the security sensor and furtively typed in his code. The door began to open.

Let him go, Jenny,
advised Brody’s voice.
He’ll never make it outside.

She wanted to charge into him, but it would be too dangerous. 

Peggler stepped backwards into the tube. 

She screamed out in frustration.

They had come so close only to watch him get away.

Peggler grinned from ear to ear as the door slid to a close, blocking them from him.

He locked eyes on Jenny and screamed through the glass. “I’ll come back for you,
mother
! I’m not finished with you. I’ll never be finished with you.”

His words were chilling. As if he saw Jenny as his mother. Through her oxygen-deprived haze, Jenny faintly wondered if the women he raped and killed were all substitutes for his mother, or some similar sick design.

Peggler turned, waiting for the second door to open. The pause was longer than before. And then, instead of opening, an alarm went off along with a flashing light above the mantrap.

Shrieking, Peggler smashed his fists and the butt of the knife at the tube’s glass walls. But they had no impact. He kept on smashing.

Jenny and Fiona looked at each other in surprise. 

Jenny held up her hand high. Fiona high-fived it.

Nice work, Fingal,
said another voice through the speaker system. Someone with Brody.

Would you believe it, Peggler?
Brody’s tinny voice taunted the rapist.
Someone’s only gone and hacked into your personnel file and amended your weight. Oops!

Peggler became even more frenzied, thrashing about in every direction like a rabid animal. Eventually, his lashing out subsided and he slumped to the floor of the mantrap: caught.

EPILOGUE

At least the rain had stopped.

Jenny stood by the grave while the vicar spoke his words of comfort. Not that Danny’s family were taking any from them, his mother standing there stoically, tears running freely down her cheeks. His brother’s head was bowed, his hand held by his wife who held a hanky to her eyes with her free hand. There was no father. She had been told that he had died some years before.

Similar to Magnus Peggler. His father had died when he was ten. He was then left with his mother, who had never got over the loss of her husband, fixating on her son as a surrogate husband, even sexually. Their incestuous relationship went on for a few years, right up until Magnus broke down to his English teacher, aged fifteen. Social services became involved and Magnus was eventually fostered. Mrs Peggler was arrested and imprisoned, where she died under suspicious circumstances. All of it was a matter of public record. But no one had ever considered the on-going psychological impact on the young Magnus who, on the surface, grew up to be a healthy, productive member of society. Underneath, he had been regressing back to his youth, searching for women to fulfil his twisted fantasy of maternal revenge. Magnus Peggler would no doubt be fodder for criminal profilers for years to come.

But what had bothered Jenny the most was when she’d seen a picture of Mrs Peggler. It had almost been like looking at a photograph of herself. It had given her the creeps.

She shook her head, trying to clear her mind of thoughts of Peggler. She needed to focus on the funeral and the reason she was here. She studied the rest of the mourners. 

Leroy, Danny’s boyfriend of many years, stood on the other side of Danny’s mother. His expression contained more rage than grief. 

The only other people she knew were standing either side of her. On her left was Victor Gibb, the agent from GCHQ that she’d been introduced to that fateful night a week before. On her right, squeezing her hand almost painfully, was Brody. She could feel him taking deep breaths in an attempt to avoid tears. 

He failed. 

And when Leroy’s angry line of sight fell on Brody, the animosity reaching right across the coffin containing Danny’s body, Brody caved in completely and withdrew from the congregation. She followed him. She was here for Brody. She’d never met Danny, although Brody had told her everything about him. And his best friend, Leroy. 

She caught up with him by a copse of trees.

“It’ll never be the same again, will it?” he asked, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his suit jacket.

“No.”

They stood in silence, looking back down towards the graveside. They watched as the gathering took turns to throw dirt on top of the coffin.

“I’ve made my decision.”

She nodded and pulled him close. 

She knew he had. And she knew what his decision was. He would join GCHQ and he would deploy their vast capabilities to bring down Vorovskoy Mir, hunting a computer hacker called Contag10n, the man who’d been responsible for Danny’s death and ruptured friendship with Leroy.

* * *

Two hours later, they sat in an independent coffee shop in the centre of Cardiff, Danny’s hometown. Despite his grief, Brody had been impressed. She’d discovered it in advance on the Internet. Jenny was becoming much more adept at being online. Next thing he knew, she’d probably want to become friends with him on Facebook or something just as crazy. 

They sat opposite each other, holding hands. 

Two untouched macchiatos lay on the table between them.

“There’s one thing I’d still like to know, Brody.”

“Oh yes? I thought I’d told you everything.” 

And he had. Everything.

“Why do you call yourself Fingal?”

Ah, that. 

He’d forgotten that.

“What’s my name?” he asked her.

“Brody.” And to his inquiring look she added, “Brody Taylor.”

He took a massive deep breath.

“That’s not actually my name.” He shrugged apologetically. 

She punched him playfully in the arm but then became serious. “Go on.”

“My . . .” He faltered. “Jesus, this is hard. I’ve never told anyone this. Well, no one except Leroy.”

“Brody, you know the rules.” 

The rules they had laid down for their relationship to function involved telling the complete truth, at all times. It was the only way she would accept him. She’d eventually got past the lies and deceit from their first few days together during the case, ultimately accepting that Brody’s feelings towards her were genuine. His actions in saving her and Fiona’s lives had gone a long way to Jenny giving him enough leeway to explain himself.

“Okay, okay. It’s my surname that’s Brody. My real surname.”

She looked confused. “So what’s your first name?”

“Finn.”

“And that’s where Fingal comes from? Finn?”

“Yes.”

“Finn Brody,” she said, trying it out for size. She offered her hand for him to shake. He took it. 

“Well, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Finn Brody.”

* * *

THE END

AFTERWORD

Thanks for joining Brody and Jenny in this Deep Web Thriller. Enjoyed the story? Here’s what you can do next.

If you loved the book and have a moment to spare, I would really appreciate a short review where you bought the book (and/or on
Goodreads
). Your help in spreading the word is gratefully appreciated - it really helps aspiring indie authors like me. You can also sign up to be notified of my next book, as well as pre-release specials and giveaways at
www.ianhsutherland.com
.

In case you missed it, Brody appears in a prequel novella to
Invasion of Privacy
called
Social Engineer
. More information is available at
www.ianhsutherland.com/social-engineer.

Thank you for reading this book. I’ve been actively procrastinating about it for many, many years. But I finally knuckled down in 2012, giving up television (well, except for my three guilty pleasures: Match of the Day, Australian Masterchef and 24!!) and got on with the job of writing it, which turned out to be a true privilege and a pleasure. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing, editing and publishing it. I plan for this to be a long running series featuring Brody/Fingal and each novel will expose more about the Deep Web, which is, sadly, very real. 

Ian Sutherland, London, August 2014.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

It’s been a long journey to complete and publish my first novel and many people along the way have greatly helped me, not always knowingly! First I’d like to thank some of my earliest beta readers on
Wattpad.com
, who gave their constructive and positive feedback long before the book was finished. You gave me the confidence that what I was writing was worth reading. In particular,
deancmoore, EurekaEureka, evidents, Fakedeadgirlfriend, lkrice, Next_JK_Rowling, ricktaylor18, sauthca, Quor000
and
WilsonGill
who all stuck with me right the way through. For those of you who bought the book because of the cover — most people do despite the saying — I thank the talented Peter O’Connor of
bespokebookcovers.com
. Then there’s the enthusiasm and professionalism of my editor,
Bryony Sutherland
(no relation!), who took a manuscript I, naively, thought needed little help, and found a thousand ways to improve it.  This is a much better novel because of her. And lastly, my wife, Cheryl, and my daughters Laura and Raquel, who have lived my writer’s dream day-to-day, always politely reminding me to get on with it. Well here we are at last!

ABOUT IAN SUTHERLAND

Ian Sutherland is a crime thriller author, living in London with his wife and two daughters. Leveraging his career in the IT industry, Ian's stories shine light on the threats we face from cybercrime as it becomes all too prevalent in our day-to-day lives.
Invasion of Privacy
is his first full-length novel and was professionally self-published in August 2014, along with it’s prequel, a novella entitled
Social Engineer
. 

Learn more about Ian at
www.ianhsutherland.com

Join his mailing list at
www.ianhsutherland.com/stay-in-touch
 

Follow him on twitter at
www.twitter.com/iansuth

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www.facebook.com/ihsutherland