Page 71 of Claim Me
"And how," he asks, "did you manage that?"
There it is, almost like he senses that’s exactly what I want. He gives me space to talk, to explain myself.
That makes it the second time already.
Marcel never asked. He didn’t care what I did, only about the results if they were useful to him. Blue asks, and he listens. Why?
That actually means something these days, when most people are focused on themselves and talking about their own issues. He gives me his full attention, his eyes fixed on me.
I rest my forearms on the chair arms, leaning in slightly. "They were running outdated firmware on the roadside controllers. Most of those cabinets still use default creds or weak authentication if nobody bothers updating them."
He doesn’t interrupt, so I keep going.
"I didn’t even start with the cameras. I scanned the network first, mapped exposed endpoints, found one controller that was reachable through a misconfigured gateway. From there, it’s basically pivoting."
Blue shifts just a fraction.
"Once you’re inside that segment," I continue, "you can sniff traffic between devices. A lot of those systems don’t encrypt internal comms properly, so I grabbed session tokens, replayed them, and got access to the central monitoring interface."
I tap my thigh lightly with my finger. "After that, the cameras are easy. Live feeds, archives, even signal timing if you want it."
There’s a brief silence. I sit back, watching him, waiting. Blue considers me for a moment, his expression unreadable.
"That is," he says finally, "a reasonably efficient exploitation chain."
"Reasonably? Was that a compliment?" I say, chuckling softly.
Blue picks up his cup again, unbothered. "Do you need one, Gabriel? You identified weak points in an undersecured system and used them. Simple as that."
I shake my head and pout. "Not that I’m fishing for it, but just so you know, none of the guys in my major would be able to pull it off. Most people would be at least a little impressed."
Fuck, that came across as super childish, like I’m basically begging for compliments and acknowledgment.
To be fair, I never really got them, so I guess I’m starved for praise.
Blue sets the cup down again, his fingers resting lightly against the porcelain.
Our eyes meet. He seems to be looking deep into my soul.
"No," he says, just a touch softer. "They cannot."
So it came? A subtle acknowledgment? Or did he simply pity me and hand me what I so desperately wanted, the way you would to a sulky child?
The thought gives me pause. Was that the reason Marcel manipulated me so easily? Was I simply approval-driven, eager to do anything for the smallest bit of praise?
Fuck. Should I try to grow up in that regard too?
I take a deep breath and say, "Yeah, sorry about that. You don’t have to praise me if you don’t feel like it. Fishing for compliments like that is ridiculous."
He studies me for another second. "Gabriel, objectively speaking, it wasn’t an easy system to break. And I like the way you approached it, you know? Though I honestly think your talents could be used in more… fruitful and legal ways."
Here it goes again, the paternal tone.
Blue’s eyes drill into me.
"What’s interesting, though, is that in a way, both of us are looking for ways to bypass systems, except mine are more focused on the organic aspect, while yours are mechanical."
I tilt my head. "Wow. Are you actually comparing me to yourself?"
