Trojan

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Trojan Page 18

by Brandon Clark


  “Calm down,” Haley said. “Stay calm. Just stay calm.”

  Josef wasn’t calm.

  He tried to kick the men, and used his cuffed hands as a club, swinging like a drunk in a bar fight.

  The first Russian reached down and grabbed something from Josef’s back. Haley’s eyes went wide as the man held a gun to his head. Then he dragged Josef inside while the other man remained behind, scanning the surrounding buildings.

  “I told him not to go in armed,” she said. “What was he thinking?”

  “I’d want a little something just in case,” Hector said with a sigh. “Can’t say I blame him.”

  “He’s not going to shoot his way out of this,” Haley said. “God, this is a disaster. I should have called Bradley.”

  Hector put a hand on her arm.

  “Have a little faith,” he said. “He’s smart.”

  “I know,” she said. “But so is Vlad.”

  Josef felt the gun press against his temple, and his blood froze.

  “If you want to keep struggling, I will shoot you and search your body for the file.”

  The voice had a heavy accent, but the words were perfectly clear.

  Josef stopped struggling.

  The man grabbed a fistful of the back of his shirt and practically dragged him inside the brick building. Josef’s shoulder slammed into door as he was pulled through.

  “Watch where you’re going,” the Russian said.

  “You put a bag over my head,” Josef said, earning himself a whack on the back of the head.

  He would have fallen if not for the meaty hand around his arm.

  He was guided around several other obstacles, or down a twisty hallway, he couldn’t be sure, until he was finally pulled him to a stop. The bag was ripped off his head unceremoniously, and he blinked several times to clear the dust out of his eyes.

  The place was empty except for the table before him, where a huge man sat in front of a half-eaten steak, which still could have fed a family of four for at least a week. The dining room didn’t have any windows. Tungsten lights shaped like gas lanterns lined the walls and cast a soft glow across the dining room. Expensive looking paintings hung on the wood-panel walls. Each table had a white tablecloth and four leather chairs that looked like they’d just been oiled.

  The hand around his arm let go, and Josef saw it belonged to a man several inches taller than him and with shoulders about twice as wide. He poked Josef in the chest and said, “Stay.”

  Josef held up his cuffed hands and nodded, though to be honest, he had been thinking about making a break for it. Despite the industrial air conditioner, he could feel beads of sweat rolling down his spine.

  His captor walked to the man at the table and leaned over to whisper in his ear. He barely had to lean over even though the other man was seated. The man listened but didn’t stop cutting the steak and shoveling pieces of meat into his mouth.

  The seated man nodded and waved the man away with an annoyed gesture, and Josef’s captor went back and stood behind Josef.

  They watched the man eat until the steak was gone, and the pit in Josef’s stomach had gone from fear to gnawing hunger.

  Finally, the man finished eating and gently set the fork and knife on the plate with a delicate clink. He plucked the napkin from his collar and dabbed the corners of his mouth before taking a final sip of wine and dropping the napkin on the table.

  When he stood, Josef tried not to let his jaw hit the floor. The guy was so tall, Josef was surprised he didn’t need to duck to avoid hitting the ceiling.

  “Hello, Stryker,” he said in a deep voice. “My apologies for the delay. Lunch is one of the few times of day I have a moment to myself, so I have to guard it jealously. I’m sure you understand.”

  “Uh, yeah . . .”

  “Sergei, take these cuffs off,” the man said. “Mr. Stryker is a guest. Though I feel I should at least know your real name?”

  “Josef,” he said, rubbing his wrists.

  “Ah, I’m Vlad,” the big man waved to himself dramatically. “Now that we know each other, I’m sure we can be more cordial than if we were just random strangers who met on the Internet.”

  He put a hand on Josef’s shoulder and squeezed. Josef felt like his collar bone was about to crack, but he tried to keep his face impassive. Vlad gave him one last squeeze before letting go, and Josef couldn’t suppress the pain from reaching his face,.

  “Now,” Vlad said. “My man said right before they collected you, you were looking at something a few blocks over. What were you looking at?”

  His tone was still light and friendly, but Josef knew it wasn’t just a curious question.

  “Thought I saw something move,” Josef said. “Must’ve been a bird or something.”

  Vlad’s eyes narrowed.

  “Now Josef,” he said. “I want this to be a friendly partnership. You wouldn’t lie to me, would you? Like, if you had brought some friends as backup?”

  “If I had friends for backup, they would have done something when you Gitmo’ed me,” Josef said. “Was that really necessary?”

  “It was for your own protection.”

  “From what?”

  Vlad leaned in, and Josef could smell the bloody meat on his breath.

  “Me,” the Russian said. “If you’d seen something you weren’t supposed to . . .”

  “Ah, right,” Josef said, shifting under the giant’s gaze. “Next time, just ask, you know? I’ll be happy to bring my own bag so it doesn’t smell.”

  Vlad chuckled.

  “I can see you really are the one I was talking to online,” he said. “Did you bring the drive?”

  “Did you bring the money?”

  Vlad snapped at the first guy that’d grabbed him, Sergei, without breaking eye contact. The other Russian put a briefcase in his outstretched palm.

  Vlad flipped the latch, and opened the case, revealing stacks of hundred dollar bills. It was more money than Josef had seen since his dad died.

  “The drive?” Vlad prompted.

  Josef fished the USB out of his pocket and handed it over.

  He reached for the briefcase, but Vlad snapped the lid shut.

  “What the—”

  “As your president once said: trust but verify. Gil!”

  A man with thick glasses poked his head out from the slit in the curtain. “What?”

  Vlad held the drive out and beckoned him to take it. “Run this through your fancy program and tell me if there is anything that isn’t supposed to be there.”

  Vlad fixed a menacing smile on Josef.

  “In the meantime, someone get my new friend something to eat. Make sure it is fit to be a last meal if needed.”

  Sergei grabbed his arm again and guided him to a table by the back. He shoved Josef into a corner booth facing the kitchen. Josef looked back and saw Vlad had pulled out a paperback and was leafing through the pages at a steady clip.

  “Stay,” Sergei said.

  “You realize I’m not a dog, right?” Josef said. “I do respond to please and thank you.”

  “Stay.”

  Josef shook his head.

  “Sergei, get the boy a menu,” Vlad called from his seat at the front.

  Sergei grumbled but disappeared through the swinging doors into the kitchen. He returned a moment later and tossed a leather-bound menu on the table.

  Josef made a show of opening the menu and taking his time to make his selection.

  “I’ll have the filet,” he said, handing the menu back. “And a shot of tequila.”

  “You’re not old enough to drink,” Vlad said loudly.

  “Oh, come on,” Josef said. “Don’t be like that.”

  “If you’re a cop, I could lose my liquor license for serving a minor,” Vlad replied.

  Josef looked at him in disbelief, but then Vlad gave him a toothy grin.

  “One shot,” he said to Sergei. “Let him loosen up a bit.”

  Sergei disappeared, l
eaving Josef to his own devices. He started to pull out his phone, but Vlad’s voice stopped him.

  “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t use your phone in here,” he said.

  “Worried I’m going to ruin the ambience?”

  “I’m worried that you’re going to do something that will get you killed,” Vlad said. “I’d hate to make a mess over a misunderstanding about Candy Crumble.”

  Josef didn’t bother trying to correct him but did put his phone back in his pocket.

  Sergei reappeared with his food and tequila a few minutes later. Josef downed the tequila in one swallow, though he wished he hadn’t when he realized how smooth it was. The steak was the best he’d ever had. Each morsel melted in his mouth like warm butter.

  When he was finished, he pushed the plate to the other side of the table and let out a hearty belch.

  “So refined,” Vlad said.

  “How much longer is this going to take?” Josef said.

  “You have somewhere to be?”

  “Yes, actually.”

  “Well, then they’ll have to wait,” Vlad replied.

  “Can I at least tell them I’m going to be late?” Josef said. “Don’t want them calling the cavalry.”

  Vlad’s head turned to regard him. The warmth as gone from his eyes and his lips were pressed into a frown.

  “Did you tell them to call the police?”

  “It was just a joke,” Josef said. “Seriously, no harm.”

  Vlad stared at him for several seconds before nodding to himself and returning to his book.

  Josef breathed a sigh of relief. He glanced over at Sergei and held his shot glass up. “Another round, barkeep?”

  Sergei looked to Vlad who waved toward the bar without looking up.

  Josef grinned as the Russian went to the bar and poured another round.

  This time, Josef let the liquor swirl on his tongue before swallowing.

  “Seriously, how much longer is your guy going to take?” Josef asked between sips.

  “Are you always this impatient?” Vlad replied.

  “I’m a hacker,” Josef said. “You won’t let me play on my phone, and I get antsy when I drink. What else am I supposed to do?”

  “You could read a book?”

  “It’s on my phone.”

  Vlad stood and started toward Josef’s table, but the curtain pushed aside, and Gil rejoined them in the dining room.

  “Well?” Vlad asked.

  “Nothing in the code itself,” he said. “Couple of outbound calls back to AKC, but I think they’re just diagnostic information.”

  “You think?”

  “There are thousands of lines of code,” Gil said. “You’re asking me to do the impossible in an hour.”

  “Not an hour,” Vlad said. “Take as much time as you need.”

  He turned to Josef.

  “And you will be our guest until he finishes.”

  Josef groaned. “You’re not my only customer,” he said.

  Vlad nodded at the briefcase. “That should compensate you for any loss of business,” Vlad said. Then he looked back at Gil. “How much longer do you need?”

  “To do a full source code analysis?” Gil shook his head. “Three, four days of not doing anything else. And then I’d want to wait a couple days just to see if there are any delayed triggers. So probably a week total?”

  “Do it.”

  Gil frowned. “What about—”

  “Josef,” Vlad interrupted. “You’re going to stay with us for a few days. And since you’re so eager to do something, I’ll let you help Gil with a few of his pet projects.”

  “I’ve got plenty of work of my own,” Josef snapped.

  Vlad snorted.

  “If you’re as good as you say you are, you’ll make more with us than at your burger flipping, high school job.”

  Josef scowled at the large Russian, trying to keep the panic from his face and voice.

  “If you’re going to hold me hostage, I definitely need to let someone know,” he said. “I didn’t tell them to call the cops, but if I go radio silent for the next few days, they’ll probably do it on their own.”

  “Aw, you have someone who wuvs you,” Vlad said in a dopey voice. Then he laughed. Gil joined him with a polite chuckle, but he looked more uncomfortable than amused.

  “Fine, call whoever you need, but put them on speaker.”

  Jacob swallowed and grabbed his phone.

  He scrolled through and tapped the bubble next to Haley’s name. He started typing out a text, but Vlad grabbed his wrist and squeezed hard enough that Josef felt something pop. Josef let out a yelp and tried to pull back, but the Volkag’s grip was too tight.

  “I said call,” Vlad growled.

  “Dude,” Josef said. “Nobody talks on the phone.”

  “I said call,” Vlad repeated, his voice taking on an edge that made a trickle of sweat run down Josef’s back. The Russian reached behind his back and aimed a gun at Josef’s head, which made the trickle turn into a river.

  “OK, OK,” Josef said.

  He backed out of the text and hit the call icon. He started talking as soon as the call connected.

  “Hey, how’s my sweet ass?” Josef said, hoping Haley would be too stunned to say anything. “Look, I know I promised you some lovin’ tonight, but I’m still with my friend, and we’re on a roll here, so I’ll probably hang for a bit longer.”

  There was a pause on the other end of the line. Josef covered the mic and looked at Vlad.

  “Now you got me in trouble with my real boss,” he said.

  Vlad rolled his eyes.

  “How much longer do you think you’ll be?”

  The voice coming through the phone was Dana, not Haley, though she’d pitched her voice higher and added a pronounced Southern accent.

  “Don’t know for sure,” he said, saying a silent prayer of thanks. “If this goes the way I think it may, I’ll probably crash here for a few days.”

  “A few days!”

  “We could be making a lot of money,” he said. “Maybe enough to go back to that resort that Mrs. B told us about.”

  “The resort?”

  “The one with the little huts over the water,” Josef said. “Just think, a full week of nothing interrupting us. No phones, no disruptions, no updates. Just me and you.”

  Dana paused again.

  “Just a week?” she said.

  “You’re right, let’s make it a month,” Josef grinned at Vlad and rubbed his fingers together and pointed up.

  Vlad’s eyes narrowed.

  “Alright, but you’re still making tonight up to me whenever you get back.”

  “Of course, babe,” Josef said. “I’ll try to keep you updated, but we’ll probably be pretty wrapped up in it.”

  “Fine, I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Love you,” Josef said. “Sweet ass.”

  Dana muttered something he couldn’t understand before hanging up.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Haley paced back and forth in the kitchen, the laptops on the counter flickering on and off as the different scripts ran. An occasional horn honked outside, but otherwise the street was quiet.

  “They’re going to kill him,” she said.

  “He’s not dead yet,” Hector said.

  “I hope not,” Dana said, punching her palm with a fist. “He’s not getting off as easy as a Russian bullet. Sweet ass . . .”

  “AKC has already forced a reset of the passwords we used last time,” Haley said. “We don’t have time to find another way in. The malware is supposed to check in with the server in six hours. And if it does while they’re still watching it . . .”

  “We don’t need to get in,” Hector said. “We just need to kill the software package.”

  “And how do you intended to that without being in the network?”

  Hector looked over at Dana. “I don’t think we can,” he said.

  Dana sighed, then rubbed her eyes and c
hecked her watch.

  “And here I was hoping I could stay in my pajamas all day.”

  Dana took another puff on the cigarette, the acrid smoke burning down her throat and into her lungs. She hated the taste and smell of the little cancer sticks, but they did make for a great excuse to hang out next to an exit. She took another small puff, just enough to keep it burning.

  The building was a fairly nondescript, three-story, tan concrete structure, with an iron fence and gate surrounding a loading dock in the back. Dana stood about twenty feet from a metal door with a badge reader, a flock of old cigarette butts like small white worms on the pavement.

  She took another drag and felt her head start to spin a bit. She needed to slow down if she was going to get the job done. She swung her badge around on the red lanyard, letting the nylon cord wrap around her fingers, then unwind as she reversed direction.

  The door swung open with a bang, and three men in jeans and long sleeve shirts spilled out into the street. They all had similar plastic badge holders hanging around their necks by red cords and were pulling packs of cigarettes and lighters from their pockets. Two were balding and overweight, while one practically had to duck to get outside.

  Dana took one more long drag and dropped her cigarette on the ground, stomping it out with the toe of her high heel, and hefted her laptop bag over her shoulder. She straightened her suit and started for the door, nodding politely to the men as she walked past.

  “Hey, I haven’t seen you before,” one of the men said, surprising her. He grinned at her, and Dana got the sense he didn’t interact with many women.

  “Need one?” He held out a pack of cigarettes.

  Dana glanced at the door as it clicked closed.

  “I was actually just heading back in,” she said. She gave him a dazzling smile. “I’ll take you up on that next time though.”

  The man’s expression faltered slightly, but he nodded and put the pack in the front pocket of his shirt.

  Dana wiggled past them and stepped to the door. She tried her badge, and as she expected, it blinked red and beeped angrily at her.

 

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