Identity Fraud Morse Code Novels & Stories

"It’s a legacy routing tag, I am sure this is not for a bank, more like for a hardware, right?" Jun typed furiously, accessing the old banking archives he had mirrored from the main server. "It’s used for satellite phones," Jun realized. "Older models, you know those kind that use low-orbit constellations. Uncrackable unless you have the handshake key." "So the Madam uses a sat phone," Felix said, peering at the screen. "That makes sense. They are untraceable, lot of underground people love themselves a sat phones." "No," Jun shook his head, his eyes widening as the pieces clicked together. "Look at the service provider billing code. M-SAT-99."

Short-Short-Short. It was the universal code for help: SOS. But Adrian didn't stop there. He needed someone who was actually watching: "The Disconnect." They were a group of hackers and students who lived in the cracks of the system and spent their lives looking for "ghosts" in the machines. Adrian sent a specific string of numbers into the weather data; it was a coordinate and a link to a hidden "dead man's switch" he had uploaded weeks ago. "What are you doing, Mr. Vance?"

I hear the sickening sound of burning flesh again as I lock in his restraints, but no sound of pain came from him, but his face was screwed up in pain. Three anchor chains held his torso to the wall and two thick ones held his arm in place. There was also a muzzle that he insisted I put on him. “Thank you,” he breathes out and I watch as his eyes go from blue to silver. “Go! Please, I can smell your heat! The code to my place is 588321, and yours is 665745!” He cries, pulling the chains from the wall, and I make a beeline for the door, sliding the locks in place.

he said, jealousy quietly creeping into his voice “It is not another boyfriend. There is no other boyfriend. It’s my brother, he’s missing” “What? You have a brother that is hybrid?” he asked with mockery. “Yes and he’s missing. I have to go” “Can I at least get a phone number or something?” he said. She collected his phone and gave him her number. He dialed it and her phone rang. “I would call you later at night” He said. “I would be expecting it” she said as she got down from the car “Do you want a drive up to your place?” “Are you kidding me right now?” she said.

He stretched out his slender hand and took out the document, which he had tossed into the drawer earlier. The paper was densely filled with characters, punctuation, numbers, etc. Ordinary people would have thought they were looking at a chaotic text, but this message was written in a secretive Morse Code which only a select few could understand. If the message was translated, the words written on the paper would be— [The missing person case in Starksholm is of great importance. Lord of Chaos, I’m hoping you can help!] Harry glimpsed through the paper and slowly threw that document into the shredder.

I hear the sickening sound of burning flesh again as I lock in his restraints, but no sound of pain came from him, but his face was screwed up in pain. Three anchor chains held his torso to the wall and two thick ones held his arm in place. There was also a muzzle that he insisted I put on him. “Thank you,” he breathes out and I watch as his eyes go from blue to silver. “Go! Please, I can smell your heat! The code to my place is 588321, and yours is 665745!” He cries, pulling the chains from the wall, and I make a beeline for the door, sliding the locks in place.

He was holding an old, hand-cranked radio transmitter that was spitting out a mechanical Morse code from the north. "𝗠𝗮𝘆𝗮," Vane said, his expensive suit soaked with salt-rain as he stumbled out onto the concrete."𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗱𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗱. 𝗜𝘁 𝗵𝗶𝘁 𝗭𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗵. 𝗜𝘁 𝗵𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗹𝗼𝗯𝗮𝗹 𝗴𝗿𝗶𝗱. 𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝘁 𝘁�

Maira's eyes also shook in the socket, and Creed finally looked at Agenor, who was still gazing at the arm with dull eyes. "I suppose I should tell you now!" Agenor opened his mouth. "Alright! Listen closely… The kid talked with the girl, and she confirmed that the Morse code we found was tampered…" "What?" "Yes! She said she only had the chance to write 'help'... She didn't write any coordinates!" "What the fuck is going on… who wrote it then… " "You saw the wooden cutout, right?" Agenor's voice turned wearisome. "Just think about it… "

I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life being someone’s bitch in prison. I fingered the card in my pocket, eager to leave this space and be far away from here. Maybe I needed rest, I just have to trust Benjamin, he said he would take care of it, right? Or was I being delusional? I ripped the card from my pocket and dialled the number. It hummed once...twice before it crackled to signal that the other person was listening. What was the fucking code again? “1-5-3-0.” I stated crisply and breathed into the phone; it crackled again and went dead. I peeled it from my ear and stared into the screen. Should I call back? Was that the right code? Was I to say something more?