RING.
Eleanor Chen glanced at her phone. Blocked number. Spoofed caller ID showing “IRS – URGENT.”
Perfect.
She let it ring three times before answering in her best elderly-woman-slightly-hard-of-hearing voice.
“Hello?”
“Ma’am, this is Officer Michael Davis from the Internal Revenue Service!” The voice was male, aggressive, with a slight accent masked by practiced American English. “We’re calling about your unpaid taxes!”
Eleanor’s fingers were already moving across her keyboard before he finished the sentence.
“Oh my! The IRS? Is something wrong?”
“Yes ma’am, something is very wrong! According to our records, you owe $15,000 in back taxes! If you don’t pay immediately, we will send officers to arrest you within the hour!”
Her voice trembled. “Arrest me? Oh my God!”
Her screens told a different story:
CALL ORIGIN: TRACING
RECORDING: ACTIVE
FBI ALERT: SENT
IP ADDRESS: ACQUIRING
“Ma’am, I need you to stay calm and listen carefully—”
“I don’t understand! I always pay my taxes!” She let her voice crack slightly. “I’m seventy years old! I can’t go to jail!”
“That’s why I’m calling, ma’am. We can resolve this right now if you cooperate.”
Eleanor’s right hand flew across the first keyboard while her left navigated the second monitor. The third screen showed live FBI dispatch communications.
“What do I need to do?” She sniffled convincingly.
“I need you to go to your nearest store and purchase $15,000 in gift cards—”
“Gift cards?” Perfect confusion in her tone.
“Yes ma’am, iTunes or Google Play cards. This is the fastest way to resolve your tax debt.”
Eleanor suppressed a smile. They were still using that script.
IP ADDRESS: LOCATED – Newark, NJ
SECONDARY TRACE: Running
SERVER ACCESS: Attempting
“Okay, okay. Let me get my purse—”
“Ma’am, stay on the line! Don’t hang up!”
“I won’t, I won’t!” She made rustling sounds. “I’m just so scared!”
“I understand, but if you follow my instructions exactly, we can avoid your arrest.”
Her fingers flew faster now. His first firewall went down like tissue paper.
SERVER ACCESS: GRANTED
DATABASE: LOCATED
DOWNLOADING: 12%
“How many cards do I need to buy?”
“Fifteen cards, $1,000 each. Can you do that, ma’am?”
“I think so. My grandson showed me where the cards are at Walgreens.”
“Good, good. Now I need you to leave immediately—”
“Wait, can I ask you something?”
A slight pause. “Ma’am, we don’t have much time—”
“It’s just… Officer Davis, right? What’s your badge number?”
Another pause. “My badge number is 847-Alpha-9653.”
Eleanor smiled. That wasn’t even the right format for IRS identification.
DOWNLOADING: 47%
FINANCIAL TRACES: Running
VICTIM DATABASE: 850 entries
“Okay, I’m writing that down. 847-Alpha-9653.”
“Ma’am, you really need to go to the store now—”
“I am, I am! I’m getting my coat!” More rustling sounds. “It’s just… I’m so confused. How did I owe this much?”
He sighed, clearly annoyed. “It’s from tax returns filed in 2019, 2020, and 2021. The penalties have been adding up.”
“But I had an accountant do my taxes—”
“Your accountant made mistakes, ma’am. That’s why you’re in this situation.”
DOWNLOADING: 76%
MONEY TRAIL: Identified – 3 offshore accounts
Real location: Newark confirmed, 2847 Bergen St.
Eleanor’s voice dropped the tremor slightly. “Officer Davis, can you hold for just one moment? I need to find my car keys.”
“Ma’am, every second counts—”
“It’ll just be thirty seconds. I promise.”
She could hear his frustration, but he stayed on the line. They always did. They’d invested too much time to hang up now.
DOWNLOADING: 94%
FBI UNITS: Dispatched to Newark location
ETA: 4 minutes
Her third monitor showed live federal communications. Two FBI units were closing in on the address in Newark. A local field office had been alerted.
“Okay, I found them!” Eleanor’s voice was bright now. “I’m ready to go!”
“Good. Now drive to—”
“Actually, Officer Davis, I have a question first.”
“Ma’am, we really don’t have time for—”
“It’s important.” Her voice was still elderly, still confused, but there was something new underneath. “See, I’m trying to understand how you called me from an IRS number, but you’re actually calling from a VoIP server in Newark, New Jersey, at 2847 Bergen Street, Apartment 3C.”
Silence.
Complete silence.
“How did you—”
“And I’m curious how the IRS started accepting iTunes gift cards, because that’s not actually IRS policy. It’s never been IRS policy.”
“Listen, lady—”
Eleanor’s voice changed completely. Gone was the trembling, the confusion, the fear. What replaced it was cold, sharp, and absolutely in control.
“No, you listen. My name is Eleanor Chen. I’m a retired cybersecurity specialist with thirty-five years at the CIA. I’ve spent the last fourteen minutes inside your server, downloading your entire database of 850 victims, tracing your money laundering operation through three offshore accounts, and providing real-time intelligence to the FBI.”
“You’re bluffing—”
“You’re operating out of Apartment 3C, 2847 Bergen Street. Your real name is Marcus Williams, age 29. You have two outstanding warrants in Florida. You’re part of a network that’s stolen approximately 4.2 million dollars from elderly victims over the past eight months.”
She could hear his breathing quicken.
“The FBI is approximately ninety seconds from your door. I’d suggest you don’t run—you have a bad knee from that car accident in 2019, and they’re covering both exits.”
“How do you—”
“I’m very good at my job, Marcus. Even retired.”
DOWNLOAD: COMPLETE
FBI: AT LOCATION
On her third monitor, she watched the real-time feed from FBI communications.
“FEDERAL AGENTS! OPEN THE DOOR!”
She could hear it through the phone—the pounding, the shouting.
Marcus’s voice cracked. “You… you fucking bitch—”
“Forty-eight, by the way.”
“What?”
“You’re number forty-eight. Forty-eight scammers I’ve helped arrest in the past year. I’m going for fifty by Christmas.”
“BREAK IT DOWN!”
The sound of splintering wood came through the phone.
Then chaos—shouting, commands, something crashing.
Eleanor ended the call.
She sat back in her chair, pulled off her reading glasses, and rubbed her eyes. Then she opened a new document and began typing her report.
Case #48 – Marcus Williams
850 victims identified
$4.2M stolen
Evidence package complete
Subject in custody
Her phone rang again. Different number. FBI field office.
“Chen.”
“Eleanor, it’s Agent Morrison. We got him. Clean arrest. He actually tried to run on that bad knee—made it about five feet.”
Eleanor smiled. “The database?”
“Perfect. Everything’s documented. We’ve already started reaching out to victims. This is going to lead to at least six more arrests in his network.”
“Good.”
“You know, you’re making us look bad. We’ve got forty agents working cyber fraud, and you’re outperforming all of them from your living room.”
“I have more time to focus. No paperwork.”
Morrison laughed. “True. Listen, there’s a case I wanted to talk to you about. International ring, hitting victims across five states. Could use your expertise.”
“Send me the details. I’ll take a look.”
“You’re supposed to be retired, you know.”
“I am retired. This is just… consulting.”
“Right. Consulting. Well, thanks for number forty-eight. Guy was on our watch list for months.”
“Happy to help.”
She ended the call and stood, stretching. Her home office was modest—three monitors, two laptops, a server rack she’d built herself, and a wall of commendations from her CIA days.
Most people her age were playing bridge or traveling to see grandchildren.
Eleanor Chen was hunting predators.
Her phone buzzed. Text message from her daughter.
Mom, are you coming to dinner Sunday? Kids miss you.
She smiled and typed back.
Wouldn’t miss it. Tell them Grandma might be a few minutes late—working on a project.
Mom, you’re retired. What project?
Just helping some people. Nothing exciting.
If only her daughter knew.
Eleanor returned to her desk and opened her browser. She navigated to a scammer forum she’d been monitoring, one where criminals shared “good numbers”—phone numbers of people they’d identified as easy marks.
She found her own number posted there, marked as “CONFIRMED EASY – WEALTHY WIDOW – SCARED EASY.”
Perfect.
She left it there.
Tomorrow, someone else would call. Someone else would think they’d found an easy victim.
And Eleanor would be waiting.
Because here’s what forty-eight scammers had learned the hard way:
Never underestimate a seventy-year-old woman.
Especially one who spent thirty-five years hunting hackers for the CIA.
Especially one who’s very, very good at her job.
And especially one who’s not even close to done.
Three days later, Eleanor’s doorbell rang.
She opened it to find a UPS delivery. Large box, no return address.
Inside was a card:
“To the grandmother who saved my life savings. You stopped him before he got me. Thank you for what you do. – Mary Peterson, Boston”
Beneath the card were homemade cookies and a framed photo of an elderly woman with her grandchildren.
Eleanor put the photo on her desk, next to similar ones from other victims she’d helped save.
Forty-eight down.
Two to go before Christmas.
She opened her laptop and checked the scammer forums.
Her phone rang within an hour.
“Hello?”
“Ma’am, this is Officer Johnson from the Social Security Administration! We’ve detected suspicious activity on your account!”
Eleanor smiled.
Number forty-nine.
