“Very cool,” Spook cooed. “Oh, your eyes look different. Is it the glasses?”
Acid leaned forward and opened her eyes wide. “No. See?”
“Ah, you’ve got two brown eyes.”
Acid walked over to the mirror by the door and checked herself. “Saved me a fortune in disguises over the years. Only ever need one contact lens at a time. You look good, by the way.”
Spook’s own outfit, along with a stonewashed Levi jacket, comprised a black polo neck and a pair of Christian Dior wide-legged trousers in dark mustard. Not as jarring as Acid’s current look but different enough, especially with her bangs gelled into a high quiff.
She watched Acid as she flitted around the room, stuffing various items into a red Elvis & Kresse shoulder bag. She was like a coiled spring. A lethal nail bomb, ready to explode at any moment. It was kind of exciting to experience her like this. Exciting and scary. She was full of the same intense energy as before, but now it was under control. Her rage was honed, aimed in the right direction. Away from herself.
“You’re sure you want to do this?” Acid asked. “It could get messy.” Her eyes drifted to the red marks on Spook’s hand where she’d been scratching herself. Spook shoved them in her pockets.
“I’ll be fine. Honest.”
“Just focus on what you have to do,” Acid told her. “In high-pressure situations like this, the trick is not to overthink it. Trust yourself. You’ll know what you have to do when the time comes.” Spook didn’t look convinced. Acid moved around the low coffee table and took a seat next to her. “Listen, kid. I’ll admit when we met I thought you were a total nerd. Certainly not the devious blackmailer Caesar had led me to believe.”
Spook closed one eye. “Is this supposed to be a pep talk? Because I think it might need a rewrite.”
“Well, that worked in your favour,” Acid told her. “But I was wrong. Not many people would have the balls to meet with the person sent to kill them. And all that information you found on me… I mean, it was rather disconcerting, but it worked. You ask me, you underestimate Spook Horowitz at your peril.” She placed her hand on Spook’s leg and gave it a squeeze. “If we get those bastards today it’s because of you. So take a deep breath, get your shit together and let’s finish what you started. Let’s get justice for Paula.”
“Thanks.” Spook got to her feet. “Then we get justice for you, and your mom. Like a couple of avenging angels. You like that? I’ve been thinking about it and we could—”
“One step at a time, doll,” Acid snapped. “But we’re ready, yeah?”
Spook slung her rucksack over her shoulder. “Ready. People see this video and those rotten pricks are finished. No question.”
“All right. Super. Take this.” Acid pulled a gun from her jacket pocket and held it out. “Don’t fret, you won’t have to use it.”
Spook stared at the weapon. “Is that a real gun? It’s tiny.”
“It’s a Beretta Pico, designed to be small – and of course it’s real, so be careful. Here, put it in your belt.” She shoved it at Spook, who tentatively accepted. “You’ve only got six rounds. But don’t worry, you won’t need them.”
“Okay, thanks.” Spook held the pistol two-handed, practising her stance. “Is the safety on?”
Acid took the gun and shoved it in Spook’s belt. “There is no manual safety, but it’ll be fine. Just know it’s there. Like I say, if all goes to plan you won’t need to use it.” A strange silence fell between them. It was the realisation of what they were about to do. The weight of their mission. “So, are we good?” Acid asked.
Spook jutted her chin and puffed out her chest. Showing Acid all she was made of. “We’re good,” she said. “Let’s finish this.”
Forty-Five
“The Cerberix Inc. Expo begins at 2 p.m. this afternoon and for the first time will go out on live-stream all around the world. This is the first time Cerberix’s enigmatic CEO, Kent Clarkson, will deliver his famous keynote in Europe rather than in the US – and it signifies a definite move onto the global stage for the soon-to-be tech giants.”
The newsreader’s clipped accent sounded at odds with the modern jargon. Acid turned back to the bar and swilled around the last half-centimetre of Chivas Regal. It was her first drink in three days and she was only having the one. But it sure was going down well. She leaned over to Spook who was still engrossed in the TV above the bar that was now showing a VT of Clarkson at last year’s keynote smiling angelically at his audience like he was the saviour of humanity. “So, kid. You ready to rock?”
“Can you wait five?” Spook asked. “I need to go the bathroom.”
“Seriously? You’ve been twice already.”
“Yeah, well I need to go again.”
“Fine. Make it quick.” Acid finished her drink and watched Spook as she bobbled on down the length of the bar.
“All right, babe? Buy you another?”
Acid turned to see a red-faced man leaning on the bar beside her. He wore a bright pink Ralph Lauren polo shirt with the collar up and had an almost perfectly spherical head.
“Hey there, you,” Acid replied, hitting him with a perfect Texan drawl. “How are ya?”
“Oh, you’re American. Nice.” He leaned in and pointed to the empty glass. “That dead, is it?”
“Dead is it?”
“Sorry, love. It means, Is it finished with? In English. I mean, English-English. Do you want another?”
“Oh. No thanks. We’re about to leave.” She gave him a big American smile, all teeth and sparkling personality.
The man returned a toothy grin. “You going to this computer thingy across the way?”
“That’s right,” Acid replied. “I’m a YouTuber. Doing a piece on the expo.”
“Is that so?”
“Sure is,” Acid told him, relaxing into her borrowed persona. Earlier that morning Spook had hacked into the exhibition centre’s server and got the list of journalists and bloggers that still had to collect passes on the door. The Girls Do Tech duo seemed like a perfect fit. “The name’s Felicity Bloom – Flick, to my besties – pleased to meet ya!” She offered her hand and a cornucopia of brightly coloured bangles clunked together.
“And you, darling. I’m Barry.” He shook her hand, holding on too long. “I knew it, though. I said to myself, I bet that pretty girl over there is heading for the exhibition centre. Never been in myself. Big old building.”
“Sure is, Barry. It sure as hell is! Though we got them bigger back home in the States!’
“Yeah, I bet you bloody do,” Barry said, both of them laughing now.
“Everything okay?” It was Spook, returning from the bathroom.
“Sure is, sweetie pie.” Acid didn’t miss a beat, leaning over and putting her arm around Spook. “Barry, I’d like you to meet little Annie Sugar. My co-presenter on the channel – and also my life partner.”
Spook baulked. Barry’s eyes almost popped out of his head. “Oh? Partner. I see.”
“Not a problem, is there?” Acid asked. She picked up the rucksack and handed it to Spook.
“No problem at all, ladies. I’ll leave you to it, I suppose. You have fun now, won’t you?”
“You know what Barry?” Acid shoved her glasses up her nose with one finger. “I think we damn well will have fun. You have a swell day too.” With that, she swivelled on her heels and marched over to the door, calling back, “Come along now, sweet pea, we don’t want to miss the keynote.”
Acid was already at the roadside as Spook scurried out the pub. “Partner, hey?” she said. “And I thought you just used me for sex.”
Acid gave her a look. “That’s enough.” She pulled the white blazer closed around her. They were near the Docklands, the Isle of Dogs only a few hundred meters away. It was always cooler by the river.
They crossed over the road and fell in with a group of people making their way to the exhibition centre. Acid checked her watch: five minutes past one in the afternoon. That
gave them less than an hour. They were cutting it fine.
“Let me do the talking,” Acid whispered, as they got to the main door and the group shuffled into single file.
Two large security guards stood either side of the doorway, watching people as they entered. Acid clocked the noticeable bulges under their left arms – not your typical event security. Most likely they were a private firm. Ex-military. Acid kept her head down as they got to the front of the line, sensing the men checking her out. She closed her eyes, put on a smile.
“Keep moving, please.” The gruff security man waved them through without question, and they hurried along a short glass walkway as quickly as possible.
The walkway opened out into an entrance hall that was grand, but generic. Like a chain-hotel’s foyer on a massive scale.
“Over there,” Spook whispered, nudging Acid in the ribs. “It says, Check-in and Passes.”
“Great, let’s hope we’ve arrived before the real ones.” She strutted over to the desk, swinging her hips as she went. “Hey there, y’all,” she trilled, slipping back into the Texan drawl. “How’s it going today?”
The two young men behind the desk stared open-mouthed at Acid as she stood in front of them with her hand on her hip. “Are you here for the Cerberix conference?” one of them asked.
“Sure are,” Acid replied, flicking her ponytail about and looking for Spook. She held her arm out for her. “Myself and Annie Sugar here. We’ll be down under Girls Do Tech, I would expect. See, there we are.” She leaned over the table and pointed to the names on the man’s list, shoving her breasts in his face. “See, Annie Sugar and Felicity Bloom. That’s me.”
The man busied himself, flicking through a large box of passes. He located the correct ones and looked at Acid. “Do you have some form of ID?”
Spook stiffened beside her.
Play it cool, chick. Play it cool.
“Sure thing, sweetie. Let me see.” She swung the large Elvis & Kresse bag from her shoulder and placed it down on the desk. Then she unzipped it and rooted around inside. “It’s in here some place. Give me a second.” In a flurry of activity she began pulling out the contents: two tech magazines – bought at the Tube station on their way here – a make-up bag, three packs of cigarettes, a bottle of water, a handful of tampons, a few sanitary pads. “I’m sure it’s in here some place. Got to be.” The man stared at the growing pile of lady products as Acid kept going, pulling out a bottle of perfume, some roll-on deodorant, a handful of condoms. XX-large…
That did it.
“You know what, it’s fine,” the man squeaked. He gestured at the queue forming behind the two women. “We’ve got to get moving. I trust you. Here you are.” He pulled out the passes and handed them to Acid.
“Thanks, sweetie. You’re a diamond.” She said it in her own voice, forgetting herself for a second. Then, giving it some cockney knees-up. “Apples and pears. When in Rome, and all that.” She handed the passes to Spook and gave the man a wink as she stuffed the props back in her bag. Then, back to Texan, “You are a shining star, you know that? As welcome as a summer’s day. Now come on, Annie Sugar, we’ve got an expo to cover.”
Dropping the act, Acid made her way over to the far side of the entrance space with Spook scuttling along close behind her. They stood and watched for a few moments as excited Cerberix fans funnelled through into the main auditorium. More security here. Two heavies at each door, checking bags, patting people down. It would be tricky to get anywhere near the stage today, but luckily for them that wasn’t part of the plan.
Without saying a word, or even exchanging a look, the two women made their way through an innocuous wooden door in the corner of the room. Spook had downloaded the venue’s schematics yesterday, and this entry point – primarily used by cleaning staff – provided access to all six floors. Moving quickly now, they made their way to the first floor, then to the second. At the top of the third flight of stairs Acid held her arm out, halting Spook, before peering around the corner.
“Okay, clear,” she whispered. “Let’s go.” They moved like ghosts along the landing and down the short, windowless corridor that led off from it. Acid came to a stop outside a mahogany door with the words, Capital Suite Room One, on a brass plaque, top centre. “This is it. So far so good.”
She twisted the handle and eased open the door. The room was empty, as she’d expected. Cerberix had hired the whole venue for the conference but had no cause for these small meeting rooms. Acid stepped inside and scanned the room. There were no windows but one wall was taken up by a large video screen, and on the wall opposite was a whiteboard. A pine-effect table covered most of the floor space, surrounded by ten chairs. Once they were inside Acid locked the door and tested it for strength.
“We’re safe here. How long do you need?” She turned to see her accomplice was already sat at the far end of the table with her laptop open.
“Two minutes, maybe less,” Spook told her. “Can you plug this in, please?” She handed Acid a cable and pointed to a plug socket on the wall. “Should be straightforward once I get through the backdoor.” She began tapping away at the keyboard.
Acid checked her watch. “We’ve got twenty minutes until show time. Then the fun starts.”
“Ah crap. Maybe not. You sneaky douche bags.”
“What is it?” Acid moved over and narrowed her eyes at the screen. Not that she could decipher anything untoward in the digits and symbols causing Spook such consternation. “Spook? Talk to me.”
The kid’s face was gripped in a tight grimace, half-way between anger and frustration. “We’re screwed. Whoever’s handling the feed has got a shit-hot firewall. Better than I’ve ever seen. I’m not sure I can hack into it so easily.”
“O-kay,” Acid replied. “Do we have options?”
“Maybe,” Spook said, opening Google.
“Seriously? You’re Googling it?”
Spook didn’t look up. “This is how it works. It’s not like in the movies – seeing how fast you can type. Google is the coder’s friend. When you don’t know how to do something, which happens about a million times a day, you Google it.” She skim-read the results and clicked on a few sites, scanning the information. Then she grabbed another thumb-drive from her bag and jammed it into the side of her laptop. Acid watched as she copy-pasted some code from one of the websites into a Terminal portal and changed some variables. “That should do it,” she said. “I just need to run it through my compiler, should take a few minutes.”
They waited in silence, watching a progress bar slowly fill to a hundred percent, telling them the program was complete. Then Spook dragged the file onto the thumb-drive icon and ejected it from the system. “Done.”
“Good work. We’re good?”
“Yes and no,” Spook told her. “The only way I can get onto the system now is if we run this override program on the computer the feed is originating from.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning one of us has to get into Cerberix’s control room and install it. Without being seen.”
Acid took the thumb-drive from Spook. “Or without being caught?” She looked at her watch. “Fifteen minutes. All right, I can do this.”
“You need to plug it into the same computer they’re feeding from. I imagine they’ll be running off multiple monitors, but there’ll be only one console running both the feed and the presentation. You need to find that. It should be a large box and—”
“Yes, thanks,” Acid cut her off. “I know I’m better at the old stabby-shooty stuff, sweetie, but I do know what a hard drive looks like.”
“All you need to do is connect the thumb-drive, open it and click on the program inside – I called it Takeover – that’ll do the rest.”
“Oh, that’s all I need to do, is it?” Acid shoved the thumb-drive into her pocket and checked her gun, loading one into the chamber. Then she was at the door. “Lock this behind me and do not open it to anyone until I get back. You still got your pie
ce?”
Spook looked confused.
“The gun, Spook. Do you still have the gun?”
“Oh, yeah, sure. I’ll be fine. But, Acid, please don’t do any of your stabby-shooty stuff with the tech people. It’s not their fault.”
Acid leaned back. “Whatever do you take me for? I’m all about the good karma now, remember?” Then serious: “No killing. I promise. You wait here for me. As soon as the video is in play, I’ll come get you.”
“Thanks. And be careful.”
Acid peered out into the hallway, then turned back to Spook. “Me?” she said, with a wink. “I’m always careful.”
Forty-Six
“Five minutes until we go live, Mr Clarkson.” The owner of the voice on the other side of the door followed up with three anaemic knocks. No doubt some intern sent by Marcy, to make sure all was well.
“Yes, I do know,” Kent gasped, easing himself down into the last of his push-ups. “Please, leave me to prepare.”
This was the third time someone had bothered him in the last twenty minutes. Why were these imbeciles unable to read the sign he’d pinned up?
Do not disturb under any circumstances.
He’d even underlined the word, any. Twice. Now he cursed himself for not putting it in capital letters.
“Do you need me to bring you anything, before you go on?”
Jesus.
They were still out there.
“I’m fine,” Kent yelled, flipping onto his feet. He yanked open the door to reveal a young girl with blonde frizzy hair and huge blue eyes. “Now fuck off,” Kent spat, before slamming the door in her face. “Idiot.”
He drew back a deep breath – in through the nose, out through the mouth. Then he took a seat in front of the large mirror that ran along the side wall and closed his eyes. He did five more deep meditative breaths whilst reciting the Kundalini mantra he’d paid ten thousand dollars for at an exclusive retreat a few years ago.
Kirim, Kirim, Kirim, Kent old boy.
The Acid Vanilla Series Page 22