[ wp ] Hacking works like it does in movies . You work for a cyber security firm .

`` Type faster.'' 
 
 Bullets of sweat rolled down my forehead as my fingers flew across the keyboard. On our server across the hall, protected by steel more powerful than tank armor, the nation's greatest secrets were under attack from Chinese hackers. They had the numbers. They had the skills. 
 
 All we had was me. One lone cowboy white-hat hacker. 
 
 `` Type faster!'' 
 
 My fingers flew across the keyboard as neon ASCII code scrolled across the screens directly in front of me. On the wall, a massive display showed Hacking Time, counting down from five minutes, and Hacking Progress with a red bar and a percent readout. It was stuck at 85 %, and holding, as long as I could churn out counter-hacking code fast enough. 
 
 When I took this job, all they promised me was sweat and a laptop so sleek-looking and neon and edgy that I could shave with it. I spraypainted a skull and a power symbol on the cover and now it was the most powerful anti-hacking hacking laptop ever built. 
 
 `` Oh my god, *type faster! *'' 
 
 The Hacking Progress bar advanced to 86 %, then 87 %. 
 
 `` What are you doing?'' 
 
 My partner, a by-the-book security consultant from The Agency, was so warm from the hacking in the room that she'd finally unbuttoned the top button of her crisp white business blouse, underneath her suit jacket and pencil skirt combo. But her hair was still fashionably and impeccably down in a shoulder-length cut despite the car crash, explosion, and fire we'd been through. 
 
 88 %. Suddenly, inspiration struck. 
 
 `` *I need your help. *'' 
 
 `` What?'' 
 
 I glanced away from the screen for a moment, my fingers still flying across the keyboard. Direct eye contact was necessary. `` I need your help, Suzanne. I know you used to hack. I hacked your personnel files.'' 
 
 She gasped. `` But- those are private!'' 
 
 `` Dammit, we do n't have time!'' 89 %. `` You've got a laptop. I need you to use it. I need...'' I swallowed. `` I need *you*, Suzanne.'' 
 
 She held my gaze for one moment longer, then her expression softened. She clicked around the desk in her standard The Agency stilettos, plopped her laptop on the desk across from me, and sat down. She pulled a pen out of her pocket, twirled her hair, and stuck it into a bun with the pen. She opened her laptop and looked me in the eyes again. 
 
 `` Call me... SuperCoolHackaChix99.'' 
 
 We sharked a smirk, and then she started typing *as fast as she could. * 
 
 The Hacking Progress bar reached 98 % before the timer ran out and the automated failsafes took the server offline, protecting the nation's secrets. Both Suzanne and I slumped back, exhausted and sweaty. 
 
 `` We did it.'' She looked at me with a faint smile. 
 
 `` Yeah.'' I pulled a cigarette out of my pocket. `` Too bad that's the last job I'll work for The Agency. You, too.'' 
 
 She sighed and nodded. `` Typing-fast skills are the core of the hacker toolkit, but we'll need a new unlikely couple to break into romance at a critical moment the next time the nation's secrets are under attack.'' 
 
 `` Yep.'' I took a long drag off the cigarette. `` Still, we've earned a vacation. Maui?'' 
 
 She shook her head sadly. `` Decker, I'm just a civil servant. I'm not a highly paid type-fasterer like you. I ca n't afford-'' She broke off when I smirked a hacker smirk. `` What did you do?'' 
 
 `` I hacked all the Chinese money of the hackers hacking us into untraceable international bank accounts I hacked last week while we were running from Ukrainian mobsters. We're set for life.'' 
 
 `` My god,'' she said, in frank admiration and lust. 
 
 It's a rough life, being a hacker. Explosions, car crashes, and typing as fast as I can are just the basics. Being very handsome and being able to manufacture and correctly time workplace romances is what makes me the best hacker in the world. But it does pay well.
