Baker's Luck

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by D D Loomis


  “I’ll be out in a minute, Ma’am. Just got through with a workout.” I closed the bathroom door, while her half-opened mouth still tried to form words. For once I’d gotten the last word with a woman! A shudder ran through me. Stimulating, too. Gonna be one helluva great two weeks if this was any indication.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Soon as I was cleaned up and fully clothed I knocked on the opened door across the hall, noting with regret the tall man standing next to the lady who’d gained my interest a few minutes ago. “Hi, Neighbors. Thought I’d better formally introduce myself. I’m Francis, Francis Baker.”

  The guy stepped forward, hand outstretched. “I’m Carl McLeod and this is my wife, Luella. I have to congratulate you on being able to embarrass her so badly she couldn’t talk coherently for at least two minutes, a record in her case.”

  The woman in question was in the process of turning a bright red once again. “I’m-I’m sorry for busting into your room like that. Didn’t know it was occupied yet. We like to have a cross-breeze through the room. Helps cut down on becoming too stuffy during the day, since there’s no air conditioning.”

  I took her hand in both of mine, and gave it a gentle squeeze. “No problem, Luella. And I’ll make sure to leave my door open much as possible. I’ll also try to remember to wear clothes when it’s open, too.”

  Her sudden bray of laughter set me back on my heels, teeth on edge from the raucus sound. God, she sounded like a donkey! I kept the smile on my face while turning towards the door. “Well, I still got lots to do. I’ll see you two at the get-together tonight after supper.”

  Back in my room I set up the computer, running the antenna wire for it to the window. This particular computer didn’t depend on local wi-fi. Expensive, but could be used anywhere, just like my secure satellite cell phone. Which was a good thing, since cell phone coverage was spotty at best up here. Once warmed up and connected, the first thing to come up was a priority message from Alice telling me to call Charlie ASAP. From the brevity of her email I could tell the files I’d sent must’ve stirred up a hornet’s nest, since she was usually chatty even when sending messages. I punched numbers on my phone, wondering what the talk with Charlie was going to cost me this time. Last call I’d made to him a couple months ago had run me five thousand bucks.

  Charlie answered on the first ring. “That you, Francis?”

  “None other. How you been, Charlie?”

  “Um-Great-Hey, glad you called so soon. Are you on your secure phone?”

  I perked up at that. It had to be very interesting to have him remember security. “Yes, I am. Those files I sent get your interest?”

  “You bet they did! Man, the person who swiped these files did you a favor. There’s a lot of money here for the picking, if that’s what you had in mind.”

  I shut my door. When money was mentioned, privacy was in order. “I most certainly do. If you read all the files, you probably know this stuff was retrieved by an FBI undercover agent from some really bad guys.” I sat down, pulling a pen and notepad towards me. “We need to not only remove the funds from any accounts we can break into, but do it without the FBI knowing it was done.”

  “Yeah, thought so. It also means we need to go to Belize to suck those accounts dry. There’s a lot more money here than you realize.”

  I came alert, mind shifting into overdrive. “How much more?”

  “In the first three files dealing with accounts that had funds just for Mister Franks there was nine million.”

  My heart rate picked up speed. “Nine? I thought Lenny said there was probably only five…”

  “That information was two months old. They got a few more large deposits over the past six weeks. From the information on the log the undercover agent kept, they were shipping something big off to Canada and getting a potful of cash back. Must’ve been payment for whatever they sent. Drugs, probably.”

  “Wow. I’ll take it. How about the encrypted files?”

  “That’s where it gets interesting. I had to get my best friend to lend a hand. They were super complicated to get into. Good thing I got his help, too. He disabled two really nasty traps that were set to attack the system of whoever tried to break in. He also came up with a plan to suck out some serious bucks from what we found.”

  “How much we talking about?”

  “Well, even though this is a secure line, I think we’d better talk about that face to face. Hows about meeting us at the Belize airport in two days? It’ll take us that long to set up what we got planned to do.”

  I nodded.“I’ll be there. Anything special I need to bring?”

  “Yeah, the best lookin’ suit you got, since you gotta look the part of the big boss. If you do what Wilbur is suggestin’ we do, we need you to look like one of those business sharks. Oh, almost forgot. We’ll need some money to make this happen.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. Yep, gonna cost me again. “I’ll tell Alice to spring for whatever you need. She’s got access to one of my accounts.”

  “Hope you got some big bucks in that account, this could get expensive before we’re done.”

  “Much as you’ll need.” I hoped. “I’ll get with Alice soon as we hang up to okay it. Make sure you two get good suits, too. Go to Saks or somewhere like that and get a suit for about a grand each. See you in Belize.”

  Once he hung up I stared at the phone, mind shifting into planning mode. Let’s see, make sure Mom knew I’d be gone for at least two days from Wildacres; call and get plane tickets from Charlotte to Belize; double-check I had my passport; and what else? Oh, yeah, call Saks Fifth Avenue in Charlotte. They probably still have my measurements from a sports coat I had made when I first showed up in North Carolina…

  * * *

  Charlie and a light-haired man in his mid twenties were waiting for me when I deplaned in Belize. “Francis, glad to see you,” Charlie said, giving my hand a shake. He still looked like an overgrown teddy bear with dark brown hair. “This is Wilbur Carlyle, not only my friend but the guy who taught me all I know about computers.”

  I shook hands with Wilbur, the epitome of a computer nerd. Glasses, rumpled look, and an air of not being on the same wavelength as the rest of humanity. In other words, a shorter version of Charlie except his hair was blonde. “Nice to meet you, Wilbur. Any friend of Charlie’s is a friend of mine.”

  He nodded shyly. “Nice t’meet you, Sir.” He perked up and glanced at Charlie. “Okay, can we put ‘em on now?”

  Charlie shook his head. “He’s wanted to put on his new suit ever since we got here.”

  “No time like the present,” I said, heading towards the men’s room.

  I came out of the stall after changing, and chuckled at the sight of Wilbur preening in front of the mirror.

  “Snazzy, man. Hey, can I keep my suit after this gig?” He stroked the front of his suit jacket again, turning to view himself in the mirror once more.

  Charlie gave me an exasperated look. “Jeez, you’d think he’d never owned a suit before.” He unconsciously fondled his virgin wool grey suit jacket even as he spoke.

  “I haven’t,” Wilbur said, giving one last admiring look in the mirror. “Hey, we better get a move on. Our meeting at the bank is in an hour and a half, and we still have to brief you up, Mister Baker.”

  “Like I said before, call me Francis.” We exited the men’s room and hurried out. I had to admit, we definitely looked the part of big-time businessmen. I touched my dark blue coat, admiring its feel. Cripes, I was as much a rube as they were about fancy clothes. Sure felt good, though.

  We settled at a corner table in a restaurant that was two blocks from the Atlantic International Bank, our eventual destination. No one was within fifteen feet of us, which was secure as we were going to get.

  Wilbur opened his briefcase and laid a sheet of paper in front of me. “Mister-er, Fran
cis, all you gotta do is go in and look really important. Charlie and me are your accountants, and Charlie will do the talking while I do the computer work. That all right?”

  “Sounds good.” I studied the form, trying to make sense of what I was seeing.

  Charlie tapped the document. “I know it looks complicated if you haven’t done this stuff before. Simply put, the top of that form is a list of the first three accounts we’re gonna suck dry. The second half shows we successfully audited each account, and everything was okay.”

  I studied the form. Something was missing–“Signature block. Where do I sign?”

  Wilbur cackled. “Nowhere, man. That’s the beauty of the system. Everything’s handled by numbers. If you know the right sequence, and have the pass code to be able to do transactions for those accounts, it’s simple.”

  “An’ the transaction code was in the second file you couldn’t get in,” Charlie said. “The person who copied these files probably didn’t even know what they were copying.”

  I shoved the paper towards Wilbur. “Man, this is complicated. Why are we conducting an audit? I thought we were going to steal money.”

  Wilbur grinned, a smug look on his face. “Rather than alert the bad guys before our main event occurs, we’ll have all of it disappear at once.” He shook his head, smile becoming lopsided. “Only took us twenty-eight hours of straight programming to get this set up but if it works, it’ll be one for the ages.”

  “They had an unbreakable alarm set up on the funds in the encrypted file,” Charlie said. “The only way we could get it was when it was released to the North Koreans.”

  “North–What?” I sat up straighter, a chill running down my spine.

  Charlie grinned. “Yeah, them. That’s why I thought I’d better tell you about this particular account face-to-face. Things are a lot more than they seem. A lot more; forty million more, in fact.”

  My mouth was open, but for once no sound came out. Shit, that was serious money.

  “Haw! Lookit him,” chortled Wilbur, elbowing Charlie. “Same face you made when we found out how much was in that account.”

  I made an effort to relax, and leaned on the table while sipping my coffee. “So how does this plan of yours work?”

  “Simple,” Charlie said. “If it all goes like we planned, anyway. We just need to attach Wilbur’s lap top to the files that have the moolah, add a tripwire program to ‘em, and at the right moment they’ll all be sucked out into another account in the same bank. That way Atlantic International’s security system won’t be too worried about large chunks of money leaving their bank. It’s staying here. At least for a couple minutes.

  “This starts when the forty million begins moving towards the North Korean’s account. Our program will divert it to our account instead of letting it move onward. At the same time, the money in the other accounts will also be pulled in.”

  “Won’t the bad guys, as well as the North Koreans, detect their money being diverted?” I asked.

  Wilbur shook his head. “Nope. If it works like it’s supposed to, a red herring program will mask the fact we just stole all their money. It’ll take twenty-four hours before they learn otherwise. Anyway, within minutes of being snatched and put in the account at this bank, the funds will be split up and sent to ten other banks around the world. This’ll be done a few more times, then concentrate in two accounts. One in the states for nine million, forty mil in an overseas account.”

  The waitress arrived and refreshed our coffees, giving me a chance to take a mental breath. “And then what?”

  “The largest account will be in the St. Francis School Reserve Account,” Wilbur said. “Since it’s for a church, it isn’t taxed. Only you and Alice c’n do transactions. We’ll take our share from the smaller account, and have the rest of it put in your personal account by Alice.”

  “Ten percent,” I said.

  Charlie’s mouth dropped open. “Huh?”

  “I think ten percent is a good figure to pay you guys for all the work you’re doing. That’s, let’s see, four point nine million. Okay with you?”

  By now, both were vigorously nodding their heads. “You bet, Sir,” Wilbur said.

  I took another sip of now-tepid coffee and made a face. “So what’s our cover story for being here today?”

  Charlie took a large gulp of coffee. “We’re auditing the accounts, and responding to a request by the bank on letting them use the money. To which we’ll say no, of course.”

  “Ah. And you can plant your bugs while auditing. I see. But how…”

  “Later, man,” interrupted Wilbur. “We gotta get over there.” He stood, hefting his briefcase. “Everyone knock on wood, and let’s go get rich!”

  Our grand entrance into the bank was punctuated by the guard holding the door open as we approached. Damn, we must really look the part. I nodded at him as we passed through.

  Charlie was in the lead, and veered towards a gentleman headed towards us. “Mister Smith is here for his meeting with your chief accountant,” he said.

  The man gave a half-bow. “Certainly, Sir. This way, if you please.”

  I struggled manfully to keep from giggling. Jeez, I was nervous as a virgin in a whorehouse. We paraded into a small conference room where an older guy was just standing, a fake smile plastered on his face. Time for act one to begin.

  * * *

  The bumping of plane wheels on tarmac woke me from a deep sleep. I looked around, gathering my bearings as the plane slowed and headed for the terminal. Shoot, I never slept on planes. More fatigued than I thought. I stretched, and unbuckled my seat belt when the plane pulled up to its gate. Couple errands in Asheville, and I’d head back to Wildacres. I gave a half-smile, remembering how flawlessly Wilbur and Charlie had handled the accountant. You would’ve thought they were the real deal. Even when we’d left the bank they kept up their personas until in a taxi on the way to the airport.

  Both had repeated “We did it!” at least twenty times, which must’ve driven the poor cabby crazy. Getting them to their plane on time was also a chore, almost as much as dragging my sorry ass to mine. God, I’d been exhausted.

  I checked the time when I entered the Holiday Inn parking lot, not far from the Asheville airport. Even though it was close to eight at night, I’d better call Hilyard. Once settled in my room, I punched in his home number.

  “H’lo?”

  “Hey, Mike, sorry to call you at home. Something’s come up, and it involves the FBI.”

  “What’s up, Francis?”

  I sat on the edge of the bed, enjoying the fact I’d awakened him. “I got up here to Wildacres Retreat and was washing some clothes. Found a flash drive that Lenny slipped in my pocket without my knowing. She might be in the wrong profession, guy.”

  “Flash drive?”

  “Yeah, it’s pink. Not my favorite color. Plus I scanned the files and it most definitely is hers. Has some information that you guys should really see. She had a file that kept a log of what she’d done, plus some interesting files about money in an offshore account.”

  “I’ll be there in the morning. What’s the closest airport to you?”

  “Asheville. Just let me know your flight number and I’ll be there.”

  “I’ll get on the first flight that’s available. See you then.” The line went dead.

  A quarter to eight the next morning, I watched Mike walk towards me. I’d gotten a couple of large coffees, and gestured towards a waiting area with several tables. “Coffee’s on. C’mon over and sit down. You look beat.”

  He accepted the coffee with a grateful nod. “Yeh, didn’t get much sleep after you called. And before you ask, Lenny came through surgery just fine. They plan on waking her up this afternoon. The rest of the world thinks she’s still in a coma, and not expected to live.”

  Relief flooded through me. “That
’s good news. Damn, the way she looked after those guys beat on her…”

  Mike seated himself at the first table we came to with a grunt. “We all felt the same way. Now what’ve you got? My return flight leaves in an hour.”

  I handed over the flash drive. “Besides her log, It’s got three files on it that deal with funds that what’s-his-name, Franks, has in a bank in Belize. There’s also two encrypted files. Didn’t try to get into those.”

  He looked at the drive in his hand, a questioning look on his face. “Why’d it take you so long to find this?”

  “The clothes I’d worn the day I got into it with those assholes were covered in blood. I stuffed everything in a plastic bag and forgot about them until yesterday, when I was washing clothes up by Wildacres.”

  He looked back at the drive, and nodded. “Okay. Thanks. Now how much longer you going to be up at this writing thing?”

  I relaxed inwardly when he bought my story. “About another eleven days. If you need me back in Charlotte, just give a call. Right now, I’m gonna head up the hill.”

  “You had breakfast?” he asked. At my headshake, he stood. “Good, I’m starving. There a place in this terminal you can buy me something to eat?”

  * * *

  The morning drive to Wildacres was interrupted by a stop at a grocery store in the town of Marion. I’d contacted Mom after seeing Mike off, to find out what I could bring back for a “Happy Hour” celebration tonight. Before suggesting different types of wine, she’d reminded me there were 45 folks who would love it if snacks were served as well. Five cases of wine and five of beer, plus hors d’oeuvres enough for everyone filled the back of my rig.

  I pulled my SUV all the way down to the last building on the hilltop, the dining hall, where Mom had told me I could put the drinks and food in a refrig until party time. Sammy, the head logistician for our retreat plus the kitchen boss, met me at the top of the stairs. “Hey, Sammy. You got enough room to keep this stuff cold awhile?” I waved at the goodies I had in the back of my vehicle. “Mom said you might be bribed, if the right kind of inducement was involved.” I handed over two large bottles of V.O.

 

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