Hacking didn't work the way it did in the movies. At least, not exactly. It wasn't a heat-of-the-moment thing, where you're frantically pounding away at the keyboard trying to worm your way through a system. There were no pitched duels between hackers, none of that crap. End the day, hacking boiled down to two things: exploiting vulnerabilities in software, and social engineering. This fell into the social engineering side of the equation.
Daisy had been doing some digging into Worthington Industries. Part of a broader campaign against corporate America. A tall order for one woman, but ultimately, it was business as usual; not much different from what she did during her time with Rising Tide, in fact. She'd decided to work her way up from the bottom of the list (Arranged in alphabetical order, natch), which meant Worthington came up pretty quickly. What followed was the usual preliminary research: putting feelers out, sifting through all the information on the corporation that was available publicly to get the lay of the land. If the Wall Street Journal and Daily Bugle were to be believed, Worthington Industries was legit, didn't have its hands in any rotten pies.
Which meant she'd need to dig deeper. So she started cracking her way into the corporate network, sifting through internal memos and emails. First bit of pay dirt Daisy hit was a full, up-to-date list of all employees currently working under the Worthington umbrella. From there, it was a matter of hooking up with her contacts at the DMV and the Department of Records to get drivers licenses and birth certificates pulled. Imagine her surprise when the certificate for one person in particular came up missing: Mary Nolan, Warren Worthington's personal secretary.
So Daisy pulled on that thread a little to see what came loose. As far as any official records were concerned, Mary had come out of nowhere. There were school records, references from prior work places. But no birth certificate, and there were significant gaps spread out in between. That meant one thing: spook. Already waist deep in this hole, Daisy kept on digging, until eventually, she hit the jackpot in the form of some security footage filed away on an old server. Footage of Ms. Nolan breaking into an evidence locker to retrieve a very familiar shield, along with some other goodies. Somebody had been sloppy in disposing of this video. Whether it was a mistake on Nolan's (Or should she say Carter?) end or just another example of overworked and underpaid IT guys letting something slip through the cracks, she didn't know, and honestly, she didn't care. What mattered was that she could use this.
She reached out to Carter more or less as soon as she'd uncovered and downloaded the video file, along with some other dirt. Told her she'd found it, sent some screenshots as proof, along with a meeting place, then waited for her response. Carter got back to her within the hour, giving her a date and time.
So that was why Daisy was now standing in the corner of a busy coffee shop in Queens, nursing a caramel macchiato and watching the door with laser focus. She'd made a point of coming unarmed. Well, as unarmed as an Inhuman earthquake machine could possibly be. No guns, no knives. She'd even left her taser back in the van. Despite the picture the news liked to paint of her, the vigilante had no intention of hurting Sharon, in any form. She was former S.H.I.E.L.D., and that still meant something to her. Sipping her coffee, Daisy shouldered the strap of her black attache case, inside of which her laptop sat rather snugly.
A smile crept across her face as she watched a tall blonde saunter into the coffee house. Give Carter credit; she had a good poker face. Just looking at her, no one would ever guess that she was meeting up with a potential blackmailer. Daisy waited for Carter to order some coffee and take a seat before approaching her. Said approach was pretty brazen, amounting to little more than the scrape of a chair being dragged over the tile floor and an unceremonious thud as she set her briefcase down on the table Sharon was sitting at.
"Do I get to know a name or am I just calling you 'Eyeliner Goals?'"
Daisy flashed her a sardonic sort of smile at that. "I mean, you could call me that. Wouldn't be the worst name somebody's given me." That honor went to "Mary Sue Poots." Nothing would ever top that in her eyes. Tracing the rim of her coffee cup with a black-painted nail, her eyes met Sharon's. "But if you want a name, I can give you one. Guarantee you've heard it before. News likes to call me 'Quake.'" Daisy punctuated this with a sip of her macchiato, casual as could be, as if she hadn't just dropped the bombshell that she was one of those dangerous "enhanced" individuals the media pundits loved to scaremonger about.
"But what about you? Do I call you 'Mary'? Or 'Sharon'?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. She could understand if Carter was on edge. If she were in her shoes, she'd be tense, too. But she had to bank on the assumption that the agent wouldn't start anything in a place this public. And for now, she seemed willing to play ball, asking Daisy what it was she wanted. "Well, Ms. Carter, you seem like a woman who doesn't waste time, so I'll pay you that courtesy." A pause, as she sipped her coffee. "I'm looking into Worthington Industries. Normally, I'd just brute force my way into the company network and take the information I want, but then I found you, and figured you could make things a lot simpler for me. I want you to tell me about any dirty dealings Worthington might be involved in, at least that you're aware of."
Woof. This turned into a novella. But hey! Hopefully that means I gave you at least something to work with! =D