Alex O'Donnell and the 40 CyberTheives

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Alex O'Donnell and the 40 CyberTheives Page 21

by Regina Doman


  “Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner,” he said to Kateri. “Couldn’t find you. Dad said you were locking doors. Saw the card outside the door. Just a guess.”

  “There’s handcuffs on the windowsill,” was the only thing Kateri could say.

  Nodding, Alex snatched up the woman’s gun, grabbed a pair of handcuffs, and kneeling, handcuffed Kateri’s assailant. The cuffs almost didn’t fit on the 164 Alex O’Donnell and the Forty CyberThieves woman’s fat wrists, but Alex seemed to have no problem forcing them on, despite the woman’s grunts.

  Kateri had twisted her way into a sitting position, trying to regain her composure as Alex dragged the twisting, cursing woman backwards. He shoved her into the bathroom and shut the door. Then he turned back to Kateri, and his fierce expression softened. He leaned over her, pushing back her hair and kissing her tear-stained cheeks. “Mother Mary, I’m so glad you’re still alive.”

  “I’m sorry I got caught,” she whispered.

  “Are you kidding? After saving us all by locking those doors? No, I’m the one who should be apologizing for getting you into this mess in the first place.

  Here, lie down and let me get at those ropes.”

  Obeying, she lay down again and tried to relax while Alex, using his sword with careful skill, sliced the ropes off of her sides and legs. Gratefully, Kateri sat up and held out her wrists, which were each still tied with a cuff of white cord.

  Cutting those cords were a bit trickier, but Alex, being Alex, managed it. She still couldn’t figure out how the same hands that could fight so ferociously could be so gentle.

  “Thanks,” she said weakly when she was finally free and leaned her head against his chest, feeling the world swimming around her. He held her, stroking her hair, and part of her realized that she was in serious danger of actually fainting in Alex’s arms. But Rose was right. It wasn’t such a bad prospect…

  “Is your mom okay?” Kateri finally managed to ask.

  Alex nodded. “At least she was a few minutes ago. We’d better get back downstairs.” He glanced around, saw the mask of Kateri’s face, and the other wigs and costumes and stiffened, but he didn’t say anything. Suddenly he cocked his head.

  “You hear that?” he said to Kateri. “The sound of government intervention.

  Every once in a while, it’s a really beautiful thing!”

  Listening hard, Kateri recognized the sound of sirens in the distance, coming closer. Alex was right. It was beautiful. She leaned into his arms again, her heart rate finally beginning to slow down to normal.

  Good work!” Agent Furlow seemed bemused as he came into the lobby to witness thirty-nine prisoners being booked by the police.

  The FBI had arrived an hour after the police had driven up with Sam and David triumphantly leading the way. When Agent Randolph arrived forty-five minutes later, he didn’t even pause to give any sort of compliment, just headed right for the police chief and reminded him loudly of jurisdiction requirements.

  Nursing his own wounds, Alex was surprised to find out how little most of the cyberthieves had actually tried to fight. When they had discovered that they were locked into their hotel rooms, many of them had just given up. Only one or two of them had even tried to climb out of the window into the parking lot, and those that had were easily picked up by police. One hacker had remained at his computer the entire time, playing solitaire, even when the police had come in.

  “Guess they weren’t up to fighting,” Alex said to his dad in a low voice.

  “Well,” Dad patted his own stomach. “They’re mostly techies. Computer work doesn’t always help you stay in shape.”

  He glanced down at Kateri and sobered. “I’m sorry you had to go through this, Kat.” Kateri was trying to clean the cuts on her wrists, while Alex stood by with the bandages. “We owe you a lot. I can’t begin to think of how much.”

  “I’m glad it turned out okay,” was all she said. Alex squeezed her shoulder and carefully smoothed back her hair from her cheeks, which were still pale.

  Dad turned away, a somber expression on his face. He moved to stand next to Mom, who, her arms around Sam and David, sat watching the proceedings from her wheelchair.

  “So you got the police,” Alex said to his brothers.

  “Yeah,” David said. “There was only one guy with a walkie talkie in the woods on our side, and he ran to the parking lot when you started fighting. We snuck past him easily and got down to the highway. Then I checked my cell phone, found that it worked, and called 911.”

  “I wanted to go back and help you guys, but David wouldn’t let me,” Sam complained.

  “I felt better knowing that you were out of the way,” Mom said, squeezing him. “You did just as you were told, and that was the right thing to do.”

  “I’m just glad you guys are okay,” Sam said, and reached over to hug Kateri too, who looked startled, but then joined the hug.

  It was way into the morning by the time any of the O’Donnells were able to turn in. Feeling like every bone in his body had been bruised, Alex checked to make sure the “No Vacancy” sign was still on and stumbled off to bed for some much desired-sleep.

  The next morning, he awoke, nearly paralyzed by his stiff muscles, and, calling Dad into the bedroom, decreed they should keep the hotel closed for the next day, and everyone seemed to agree. Besides, the only guests they had were the forensics team, who continued to work all hours of the day and night as they argued over how much of the hotel would need to be kept off limits for taking evidence.

  “I actually feel sorry for the guys,” Alex confided to Kateri when he had hobbled out of bed to watch her put the fifteenth pot of coffee on to boil in the breakfast area. “Thirty-nine arrests at once! That’s got to be some kind of record, at least for this town.”

  “Thirty-nine,” Kateri said, disinfecting an already clean table. Alex knew she was frustrated that she couldn’t get in and clean any of the rooms until evidence-taking was completed. “Wasn’t there supposed to be forty?”

  “Yeah. Dad’s been wondering about that too. There were forty passwords on the website, even though there were only thirty-nine personal data logs listed.

  But Dad’s fairly sure that whoever administered that site never logged his personal info. I guess it all depends on whether or not one of the thirty-nine cyberthieves also served as administrator, or whether the administrator was a separate guy.”

  “Didn’t your dad count forty wireless connections just before the fight started? So didn’t that mean that there were forty people?”

  “There were only thirty-nine guests checked into the hotel,” Alex pointed out, massaging his knees.

  “So who was the fortieth user? Someone offsite?”

  “There were forty reservations,” Alex said to himself. “But maybe that was just to fill up the hotel so there wouldn’t be any witnesses. Or maybe the last guy just stayed in the woods running the network from that portable satellite dish that they found in the woods.”

  “So if there was a fortieth hacker, he—or she—got away.” Kateri said.

  “Right. Not exactly a pleasant prospect,” Alex admitted. “But hey, maybe the last cyberthief will have learned his lesson and will take the remaining money and just go away to start a new enterprise somewhere else.”

  He glanced at Kateri, and could tell she was thinking the same thing he was.

  Yeah, right.

  Right now the thirty-nine suspects were being held in jail without bond as accessories before the fact for attempted murder. Several of them had previously been indicted for cybercrime, and it seemed it would be a matter of time before the entire story came out.

  As usual, the FBI was fairly tight-lipped about the investigation. Agent Randolph, his blond hair bristling, wouldn’t even say that the suspects were cyberthieves, and had only conceded that they might be when Sam had pointed out that one of them, William Radnor Gaston was on the FBI’s Most Wanted List for cybercrime.

  But before the FBI fi
nished up their investigation, Kateri managed to corner the more amiable Agent Furlow and got him to give her a few more details.

  “Look, you have to tell me what you think that lady who held me at gunpoint and tied me up was doing,” Kateri said, setting a cinnamon roll on a plate in front of him at a table in the breakfast area. “She was making a mask of my face. What was—can you tell me what that was all about?”

  Agent Furlow accepted the cup of tea she handed him gratefully. “Well, I suppose I can tell you that. Apparently, the plan was that you and the O’Donnells were going to disappear.”

  “Disappear? How?” Kateri asked, sitting down across from him.

  “Well, your bodies never would have been found,” the agent paused to bite into a bun, chew and swallow. “These are really good, by the way.”

  “Uh, thanks,” Kateri said, feeling queasy. “And the mask she was making of my face was for—?”

  “Life masks, or in this case, death masks,” Agent Furlow said, sipping his tea.

  “They would have made masks from the faces of each of you, masks that would each be worn by one of the cyberthieves. So that witnesses could say they saw you all packing up your belongings, leaving, and disappearing without a trace.”

  “And you and the police would have guessed that we took the money and ran,” Kateri guessed.

  “Yes. It would have made a federal investigation very difficult. You’d be presumed to be overseas someplace.”

  “Right.” Kateri closed her eyes, imagining her remains being buried in a landfill and shivered. “My parents never would have believed that story.”

  “No?”

  Kateri shook her head. “Not in a million years. They know my principles.

  They’d have thought the O’Donnells kidnapped me before they’d ever believe I went on the lam.” She blew out her breath. “Thank God and His Mother that it didn’t happen.”

  “I’ll say,” the agent took another bite of the cinnamon bun. “Very narrow escape. But hopefully, you’re safe now.”

  “You don’t think there’s a fortieth cyberthief out there?” Kateri couldn’t help asking.

  Agent Furlow looked at her in surprise. “What makes you say that?”

  “Well, there were forty usernames on the Mystery Website. And forty reservations were made at the hotel.”

  “Of course,” he said, and straightened. “Like I said, there still might be one more out there. You’d better remain on your guard.” He glanced quickly around.

  “Don’t tell the chief I missed that one. They might cut my budget.”

  She smiled. “My lips are sealed.”

  Now his blue eyes grew serious. “So there were forty reservations.”

  “And forty people using the internet the night of the attack,” she reminded him.

  “How’s that?”

  She told him about how Mr. O’Donnell had detected forty users on the satellite network, and thought to herself, surely one of the O’Donnells must have told this to the police? Maybe Agent Randolph hadn’t told his partner everything? It just showed how many things could fall between the cracks in a complicated investigation like this one.

  Now Agent Furlow sank into his chair, thoughtful. “This could be significant,” he said to himself. He looked at her for a moment, seeming to debate. “How well do you know—?” he started to ask, and then stopped.

  “What? What were you going to ask?”

  “Nothing. It’s not important. But how long have you been working for the O’Donnells? When did they hire you?”

  Kateri chuckled. “Well, it’s not just an employment relationship. I’m dating their son.”

  “Oh, that’s right. So you’re living here with their son?”

  Kateri’s cheeks flushed. “No, no,” she said quickly. “I’m living at the hotel, and I’m dating Alex, but I’m not living with him. We don’t do that sort of thing.

  Principles again.”

  “Oh! I’m so sorry. These days, you just assume…” the man shook his head.

  “I’m sorry. So you’re dating the son and working for the family.”

  “Yes. I just met the family this summer, actually.”

  “When you started dating the son.”

  “No, I knew him from college.”

  “But you just met his family now.”

  “Yes.”

  He cocked his head. “This might be a delicate question, but you strike me as a religious person. Am I right?”

  “Yes, that’s true. I’m Catholic.”

  “I respect that. There are some good Catholics on my staff. And the O’Donnells are Catholic too, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you only just met the family.”

  “Yes.”

  “Interesting.” He finished his tea. “Well, Kateri, there are two things you can do for me. Get me that recipe for your cinnamon rolls,” he winked, “and let me know if you see anything else suspicious around here. Anything. Don’t hesitate to call.” He handed her his card, then his expression grew serious.

  “After all, the consequences could be severe if we’ve let one of this gang slip through our net. As in, severe for you.”

  “Thanks,” Kateri said, automatically grabbing his cup and plate and napkin to clear his place as he rose. But her hands were already sweating.

  As Kateri could have predicted, the news of the arrest of the thirty-nine suspects, among them several of the most prominent cyberthieves in the nation 170 Alex O’Donnell and the Forty CyberThieves got around quickly, and it made the O’Donnell family—and the Twilight Hills Hotel—famous.

  After the last forensics team had left, and the surly maids had come in to do their job, the hotel reopened—and quickly filled up. As day manager, Alex spent a lot of job time telling the story of how the O’Donnells had managed to hold thirty-nine suspected criminals at bay until the police arrived, and Sam and David were glad to step in when he got tired.

  It required a bit of sleight-of-hand to tell the story without mentioning the Mystery Money or Uncle Cass’s death, but somehow they managed to do it.

  Kateri marveled at how the O’Donnells could deflect any questions by phrasing the story so that no one even thought to wonder what the O’Donnells themselves might have done to make themselves a target of a band of thirty-nine internet thieves.

  And although Kateri didn’t say much to anyone, she remained on her guard.

  Even though the unfinished business with the last cyberthief hung over his head, Alex was almost too busy to think about it. There was seldom a break in the routine. He and his dad worked one shift after another like clockwork: checking guests in, checking them out, monitoring the computer network (his dad had taken the opportunity to upgrade the entire security system yet again), taking stock of supplies, attending to crises ranging from the usual guests who had locked their keycards in their room to a broken sofa bed in the honeymoon suite to the couple who had a marital spat in the lobby.

  None of these seemed quite as nerve-racking as they might have been, since now his standard for stress was having ten armed cyberthieves rushing him in the lobby. That was the ultimate bad day.

  The good part of the entire situation was that the hotel was booming. They were even starting to put a significant amount of money in the bank, thanks to Mom’s careful budgeting, and she said she was thinking that they might not need to depend as heavily on the ever-in-danger-of-vanishing Mystery Money.

  That was cause for rejoicing.

  So things were looking up for the family. Sam and David enjoyed their local status as heroes, and more than once Alex had found David lolling by the pool, recounting the story to wide-eyed teenaged female guests when he should have been working.

  The only bad part of the boom was Kateri. Alex barely saw her, and every time he did, she was scrubbing something, stripping a bed, pushing a cart, mopping a floor, reorganizing, disinfecting, or trudging toward her hotel room in a sleepy, surly daze.

  This he did not li
ke. His vision for having Kateri work the hotel had involved a picture of her doing light office work, making coffee, and lounging about the office, keeping him company. A receptionist/assistant manager, not a workhorse and general servant. But she was determined to pull her weight, as she put it, and he couldn’t figure out how to tell her that her generosity was unnecessary and unwanted.

  “Hey, want to go out tonight?” He cornered her as she came out of a guest room with a pile of dirty sheets and towels.

  “Please move,” she said, but he didn’t. Taking the sheets out of her arms, he tossed them into the laundry cart.

  “Kat, you’re only doing the work of four women instead of five today. You must be tired.”

  “Think so?” she pushed back a long straggle of hair that was falling out of her ponytail. Her white uniform looked rumpled and a bit dingy. “We can’t go out tonight, Alex. The washing service is delivering towels.”

  “Oh, come on. That’s at seven. We can go out at nine, after I get off work.

  We can catch a movie. Come on, you need to get out.”

  “What I need is more sleep,” she said.

  He looked down the hall. “How many rooms are you cleaning today?”

  “Thirteen.”

  “You said you would call the maid service on days where there were more than ten.”

  “I can do the three extra rooms. It’s not a big deal.”

  He made a decision. “No, you can’t.”

  She glared at him. “What do you mean, I can’t?”

  “I won’t let you.”

  Putting her hands on her hips, she said, “How are you going to stop me?”

  For an answer, he picked Kateri up and threw her into the laundry cart. She landed head-first into the pile of fluffy white sheets and yelped.

  “Alex!” She scrambled to get out, but he grabbed the cart and sprinted down the hallway.

  “Laundry coming through!” he called.

  “Alex! Let me out! Alex!!!”

 

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