Identity Fraud Maze 1 Novels & Stories

“Did you falsify information on your application? Because if you did, that constitutes identity fraud—and it’s grounds for immediate termination, as well as potential legal action.” Kayla opened her mouth to speak—to confess everything, to tell them about the loan sharks and her mother’s medical bills, to take the fall so Liam wouldn’t be dragged down with her. But before she could get the words out, the door burst open and Mr. Park stumbled into the room, his breath coming in ragged gasps, a stack of documents clutched in his hand. “Wait!” he said, slamming the papers down on the table. “I have everything you need.”

“Okay… here’s the next weird part.” “What?” I ask. “The account was opened two days after your accident.” My breath catches. “What?” Marcus nods. “Two days after you went into a coma.” I stare at the screen. That means… whoever created that account did it while I was unconscious in a hospital bed. My stomach drops. “They used my name.” Adrian nods slowly. “Yes.” Marcus rubs his jaw. “That’s identity fraud on a corporate conspiracy level.” My voice feels unsteady. “Margaret opened it.”

“I’ve already sorted it out earlier. I've had the fake account closed and I have assured your representatives that it would all be sorted soon enough. There's no need to-” “I’m calling regarding another issue. It appears that your identification has been stolen. Another account was just opened in your name, with your credentials. As of now, we've frozen all your assets until we are sure that your information is closed and you can certify that you are the one who we are speaking to. Of course, that will mean that you will have to coke down here yourself to sign some documents.” What on earth was going on? I looked at Lawrence and the both of us shared the confusion. How could they be so stup

What kind of breech they were facing would ultimately decide their next move. "You have a data crawler." The guy-what was his name again?-pushed back from the desk and faced George. "What the hell is that?" "This one's looking for financial information. It crawls your system picking up card numbers, social security information. Looks like you have someone trying to steal identities. Common criminal shit. I've cleaned up your system, you shouldn't have any more issues, but for those people whose information is out there, it's out there." "Fuck." That was potentially good information.

Power ran through their veins like poison, and one wrong move could unravel years of preparation. I closed the email and pulled out the neatly stacked folder of Camille Martins’ forged life. Degrees. References. Bank statements. All pristine. All untraceable. I’d used this identity for years to bring down others. Now, it was about to face its greatest test. It was Saturday evening, which meant I had less than 48 hours to turn myself into the perfect candidate with the perfect disguise.

And one grainy photo of me walking through her apartment lobby seven months ago. I looked at the evidence, then back at her face. “You can drop the act now.” “That could be anyone,” I said. She tapped the first page. “The IP matches the breach that created your fake student ID. Same device. Same signature. Kwame is very thorough.” Kwame. Her father’s hacker. I should’ve seen that coming. “I don’t know what you think—”

If Mia got caught, she'd be facing more than the fifteen years of prison time she had evaded before. "She grew up here. She never really became a resident abroad. To put it bluntly, she's still a rat from the sewers, and rats always find their way back when they want to prove themselves," Jack said. "You mean she's living off the grid?" Jessie asked with a chuckle. "Something like that. She can fake her identity, but once someone digs deeper, those fake papers won't hold up. Besides, let's be real, nowhere out there beats home." Jack smiled.

"I severed the connection. I rerouted the trace through a server farm in Russia and then bounced it to a dead terminal in Singapore. They lost the trail." I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, sinking back against the leather seat. My hands were shaking. "Did they get anything?" I asked. "No," Maya said, checking her monitors. "They got a few corrupted files and a fake IP address. Your identity is safe. For now." "Who was it?" I asked. "Was it Mark?" "Mark?" Maya scoffed, though her eyes remained serious. "Mark can barely open a P*F without help. This wasn't him. And it wasn't Zane—she’s too impulsive for this kind of precision."

But with this much potential overhead, I know that our funding agents will want an accurate and legal set of data to pull--data that won't raise questions for tampering. So inhaling slowly, I focus on my heartbeat as her browser hits the government page that automatically appears when one of our badge numbers are scanned. It's a dummy page, one that acts real enough, but was set up by Black Eagle to circumvent the real Department of Defense website. According to the US government, we don't exist, but on rare occasions when we need to have identities, they are all filed away under a "special unit" of the FBI and CIA. The moment my credentials clear, the nurse's demeanor brightens, her smile g

"Then I had the doctor come in to give you a painkiller injection, right?" "No, I can handle it. Let's continue with the previous topic. You have amnesia now, so you may not understand the operation of buying identities. The country conducts a population census every year, but the community personnel who conduct the investigation are not professional after all. So, there are always a few extra people who come out each time. These are what we call identities. These identities can be bought, but it is all done privately. After all, these bought identities are very useful. Sometimes, they can help someone with a criminal past start anew. As long as they use this newly bought identity, they can