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Ride the Lucky

Page 26

by Kendric Neal


  “Random.”

  “Random…”

  “Never seen these guys before in my life. Funny how things happen isn't it? Fate. Why that house, why that day, why me?”

  “Yeah. Again, I'm very sorry…”

  “Thank you. Thank you.”

  “The doctors said your injuries aren't life-threatening, I know that must be a relief to you, I know Hope will be relieved.”

  “You've talked to her then?”

  “Well, she did most of the talking,” said Kurt.

  “She's like that.”

  “Understood. Understood.”

  “I need to call her.”

  “I wouldn't.”

  “More time?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then I guess you know the whole story.”

  “No, I wouldn't say that.”

  “What can I tell you? Got some gaps, then?”

  “The way I've got it, you won all this money and some Federal agencies seemed to take an interest.”

  “You know how those guys can be,” Neely said, laughing.

  “You had an incident at work.”

  He shrugged. “Who doesn't…have an incident…at work…now and then?”

  “You were seen dragging around a boxful of cash—”

  He scoffed, “Banks… who trusts 'em? ”

  “You were beaten in your own living room—”

  He scoffed again. “Crime… just out of control. You'd think we could get someone into office who could—”

  “And then you played Russian Roulette in front of your wife…”

  “Domestic spat… the ole ball'n'chain …” he said, rattling his wrist restraints, starting to sound a little like Jack Nicholson. “You're a little too young, Kurt, but let me tell you. Once you really get to know a—”

  “And then you ran off to the reservation to quietly kill yourself.” Neely blew a breath out through his nose. He looked at Kurt as his next response died before it finished forming. Kurt finally broke the silence, “Everything okay?”

  “No. I don't think it is,” Neely said, surprised to find a tear forming. Even worse, his wrists were chained, so he couldn't wipe it away.

  “What do you think is—”

  “I think I need some help, Kurt.”

  “Medical help?”

  “Psychiatric help. I think I need some psychiatric help, Kurt,” he said, more tears coming which he had to let fall, as he was powerless to stop them.

  “We could set up a—”

  “My fault, all on me. Need to dig my way out now. You think you could help me with that, Kurt?”

  “Of course.”

  “It's not fair to put it on Hope. It's not fair to my kids. I just need to— to—” he said, leaning far enough over to wipe his tears on the pillow, but losing his train of thought. “—stop,” he said finally. “Everything. I need to stop.”

  “Well, I'm honored you'd come to me.”

  “I think you know what you're doing, Kurt. I think you're going to be good at it. Even if I do have jackets older than you.”

  “Well, I appreciate the show of faith. I'll be happy to help.”

  “Are they going to put me away? Are they going to put me in Broughton?” Neely said, still crying.

  “Broughton? Well, that's the judge's decision.”

  “What'd he say?”

  “She.”

  “She.”

  “If I can report you're ready to commit to a series of regular counseling sessions with me, I'm sure she'll take that into account.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Between you and me, Broughton's a big step. It's a matter of whether you're a danger to yourself or others.”

  “Not a danger. I did some stupid things, that's all. I got overwhelmed.”

  “That's what it looks like.”

  “I made it worse by hiding it.”

  “Happens to a lot of us.”

  “You can help me?”

  “I'll do my best. But yes, I think I can help you.”

  Neely stuck his hand. “Shake on it?” It was shackled so it wouldn't extend very far, so Kurt reached over and shook it for him.

  CHAPTER 30

  “This is a hearing on the Request for Dismissal brought by Cross-Defendants in the matter of Pedott-Carey, Inc., a Delaware corporation, vs. Donaldson/Danning TeG, a North Carolina Limited Liability Company, and the cross-action against Samuel Neely Thomas and Richard Falk Mathias, in and for the Superior Court of Mecklenburg County, North Carolina, 832 East Fourth Street, Courtroom 17B, Charlotte, North Carolina, beginning at approximately 9:57 a.m. There were present on behalf of their respective parties Linda Brereton, Esquire on behalf of Cross-Complainants and Elias M. Cabot, Esquire on behalf of Cross-Defendants.”

  “Good morning, Your Honor, it's my motion so I'll briefly state I'm Elias Cabot, for Cross-Defendants Neely Thomas and Falk Mathias.”

  “Okay. I'm trying to figure out what's going on here,” the Judge replied. “You're stating there's no cause of action?”

  “No, your Honor.”

  “Objection.”

  “Ms. Brereton, let me get my bearings here before hearing any objections.”

  “Yes, your Honor.”

  “And what do you base this assertion on, Mr. Cabot?”

  “Your Honor, Plaintiffs base their allegations on investigations into Mr. Thomas's financial dealings by the IRS and the Securities and Exchange Commission. Both of these investigations have since been brought to a close with no charges being filed against Mr. Thomas.”

  “It says here he amassed $7.3 million in stock gains the same week he amassed $5.7 million in gambling winnings.”

  “Yes, sir. 1099's were filed on all gains, none were hidden and none were found to be fraudulent in any way.”

  “Yet, they seemed suspicious to the SEC.”

  “Yes, but the SEC acted in an abundance of caution and found no evidence of insider trading or illegal activity. Your Honor, it's not a crime to have a good week. Nobody sues the Yankees for winning the World Series.”

  “Alright, point taken. But we couldn't exactly call this a good week as far as Mr. Thomas was concerned, can we?”

  “No, Your Honor. These events coincided with the dissolution of Mr. Thomas's marriage and a violent home invasion which led to significant head injuries to Mr. Thomas.”

  “That's quite a coincidence.”

  “Yes, your Honor. Exactly the point, Your Honor, coincidence, not a crime. Not a series of connected incidents of a malicious or fraudulent nature.”

  “Ms. Brereton, please sigh more quietly.”

  She started to sigh again, then stopped herself. “Yes, your Honor.”

  “And the police report's conclusions on the home invasion?”

  “Remains unchanged, your Honor. This was an attempt at extortion by an unidentified motorcycle club who somehow got wind of Mr. Thomas's recent good fortune.”

  Ms. Brereton snorted derisively and trying to make it sound like a cough.

  “Unidentified?” the judge asked.

  “Despite Plaintiffs' allegations, the official statement has not identified the WNC Hellions 666 club as the perpetrators. No evidence has been found of their involvement and Mr. Thomas has been unable to identify them due to his injuries.”

  She snorted again and the judge turned to her.“Mrs. Brererton, is this true?”

  “He LIED to police, judge, he refused to identify—”

  “No, is it true these investigations are closed?”

  “These investigations are ongoing. He said it was a club called the Black Vipers. There's no such—”

  “It states here there are closed?”

  “For the time being, there are still many facts they have—”

  “For the time being? That would be a yes, then?”

  “Your Honor, there are many aspects of these incidents that show a pattern of fraudulent—”

  “They are closed? Yes, counselor?”

  �
��They are currently closed, your Honor, but the Federal agencies involved as well as the police—”

  “Mr. Cabot, these are ancillary facts to the Complaint.”

  “Yes they are, your Honor. The key allegations here involve both Mr. Thomas and Mr. Mathias as well as a cross-motion filed by their employer Donaldson/Danning TeG, stating that these two gentlemen purposefully sabotaged Pedott-Carey's account with client Jepp Transport & Freight, Inc., by introducing a virus derived from one that Mr. Falk first created in college.”

  “Both Mr. Thomas and Mr. Falk acknowledged this fact in deposition.”

  “Your Honor, they acknowledged that Mr. Mathias created the virus, they did not acknowledge promulgating it through the software of Jepp Transport.”

  “The one discovered on their system is identical, however? Down to the exact spelling errors in the original?” the Judge said, reading through the exhibit.

  “Yes, your Honor. But in the days of digital files, exact copies of anything are not unique and certainly not inculpatory. Plaintiffs fail to establish access or proof that Defendants were the ones who introduced the program to Jepp's network.”

  “But they did have motive.”

  “Yes, Plaintiffs base their entire case on the concept of 'where there's smoke there's fire', but that is hardly a proper legal argument. In fact, if you turn to Exhibit M you will find a list compiled by Cyber Crime Unit of the U.S. Department of Defense naming every company network known to have been infected by the so-called Digerati Day-glo virus in the last ten years.”

  “Your Honor—”

  “Ms. Brereton, this is not a trial, this is a motion. When the attorney who brought the motion is finished presenting it, I will ask for your rebuttal, not before.”

  “Yes, your Honor.”

  “As you can see, your Honor, the list is over forty pages long and includes the names of over a thousand companies. Exhibit N is an affidavit signed by Dr. Peter Paralee, Professor of Computer Science at Massachusetts Institute of Technology, stating that a version of the Digerati Day-glo virus is commonly used to test networks, as due to its self-evolving attack properties, it requires a competent and attentive network manager to defeat it in real-time. It's a test of network vigilance and in point of fact, it can now be defeated quite easily, but only if someone competent's watching. The fact that it crashed Jepp's system is only additional proof that Pedott-Carey was not adequately maintaining their defenses.”

  “Your Honor, Defendants have caused great and irreparable…”

  The Judge held up a hand and gave a stern look to quiet her, then took a few moments to review the exhibits Cabot mentioned.

  “Alright, Ms. Brereton, how do you respond?”

  “Your Honor, Neely Thomas is a scourge upon society. His actions have caused permanent and irreparable harm to my clients…”

  “Yes, you said that. Do you dispute these two exhibits?”

  “Defendants have defamed my clients, they have suffered millions of dollars in lost revenue as a result. No one wants a computer company accused of cyber crimes. They've lost three major clients due to Neely Thomas's malfeasance and spiral of self-destruction! He has LIED, he has CHEATED, he has STOLEN, he tried to KILL himself, he invited DANGEROUS and VIOLENT criminals to his place of employment, he has run afoul of the SEC, the IRS, the FBI and the police, he has been banned from every gambling establishment in the world, he has been banned indefinitely from securities trading exchanges. He has established a PATTERN of violating our most dearly held laws in a FREE-FALLING PSYCHOTIC BREAKDOWN that has destroyed the lives of everyone around him.”

  “I'll take that as a no. Case dismissed.”

  Neely and Falk stood and shook hands, then slapped Cabot's back, grinning.

  “Your Honor! This is ridiculous!” Brereton screamed. “He has DESTROYED this company! He has STEPPED ON the most common laws of decency, all in the name of personal gain. He has acted out of SELFISHNESS and IRRESPONSIBILITY and a SOCIOPATHY that borders on—”

  “Bailiff—”

  As the Bailiff shepherded the warring parties toward the exit, Cabot stepped up to Hugh Donaldson, Warren Danning, Sam Tchavitz and Linda Brereton, who was still exhorting the Judge. “Gentlemen,” Elias said. “My clients would like to know if you're ready for them to return to work tomorrow?”

  “What—?” said Tchavitz.

  “Are you joking?” said a speechless Donaldson.

  “I'll take that as a no,” he said, handing him a fat document. “Then we're suing for wrongful termination. Good day.”

  CHAPTER 31

  “You're going to do fine, Mom,” said Jess, driving as Hope sat in the passenger seat and Cullen sat in back. Hope used the vanity mirror to adjust her hair.

  “Why? Do I look nervous?'

  “A little.”

  “Really? I don't want to look nervous.”

  “Everybody's nervous in a job interview.”

  “I used to ace job interviews.”

  “Like, twenty years ago.”

  “I thought this was a pep talk.”

  “It is.”

  “More pep, less talk.” Jess took a turn and Hope looked up at the unfamiliar area. “Do you know where you're going?”

  “GPS, mom. Relax.”

  “Here's another tip. Never tell someone who's nervous to relax. It makes them bat shit crazy.”

  “Okay. Relax.”

  She scowled at her. “Why are we turning here?” Hope asked, noticing as they passed through the entrance to the Naccahaw reservation.

  “This is where it is.”

  “I didn't know it was in here.”

  “The past is the past.”

  “Is it?”

  “Mom…”

  “I used to think that.”

  “We've been through this. Time for a fresh start.”

  She looked at the casino building as though passing by a crypt. “Don't tell me it's in there?”

  “It's in the conference center.”

  “No! Stop! Turn around. Absolutely not…”

  “Mom—”

  “I said turn around.”

  “Focus, Mom,” said Cullen, who shared a look with Jess in her rear-view mirror.

  “Focus is even worse than Relax.”

  “Give it your best shot. Act like you own the place,” said Jess.

  “I should own the place.”

  “You'll do fine,” Cullen said. “Let me guess. Don't say 'you'll do fine.'”

  “No, that one's good but this is pointless. I'm not driving past that thing every day to go to work.”

  “You're going to find reminders anywhere. You told me yourself this job was promising and pays much better than the rest,” Jess said.

  “Yeah, alright, focus, relax, I'll do fine. Just drop me at the bar first.”

  “I've never even had a job and I know you don't go to an interview with liquor on your breath,” Cullen said.

  “I was kidding, Cullen. I'll just take a Xanax,” Hope said, rooting through her purse.

  “Focus, Mom,” said Jess.

  “Focus. I can't believe my own kids are coaching me.”

  “I'm just repeating what you said to me before I did the school debates.”

  “I said that?”

  “Yes, you did, and it helped.”

  “Oh, hell,” said Hope. “There's like a million people here. What is this?”

  They saw dozens of others in the parking lot and milling around the conference center.

  Jess parked and they entered the building, passing banners and information booths. A crowd gathered near the front where a platform and podium overlooked the room.

  “What is this? This is like a job fair, I didn't know it would be like this,” Hope said.

  “Just hang on, Mom,” Jess said.

  “This isn't what I was expecting.”

  “I'm sure it'll all become clear in a moment.”

  Something about the way Jess said that made Hope suspicious, and she scann
ed the crowd, which was mainly full of Native American faces. The attendees ranged in age from teenagers to senior citizens and were all carrying totes full of free promo items. She caught a familiar face near the front— Falk— and angrily turned on Jess and Cullen, only to realize they both had a solid grip on her arms.

  “WHAT DID YOU DO?”

  “Just listen, Mom,” Jess said. “Please…”

  “Are you out of your minds?!” Hope hissed at them. “Let me go…”

  “Mom—” said Cullen, motioning toward the front.

  Neely strode up to the dais, all cleaned up in a well-cut power suit, and spoke into the microphone—sharp, alert and back in control, a man more than capable of holding a crowd.

  “Thank you everyone for coming today. My name is Neely Thomas.”

  Hope tried to yank herself free of her Jess's and Cullen's grasp, but they held firm. People around them looked, wondering what the commotion was. “Mom, don't make a scene,” Jess whispered.

  “I'll show you a scene.”

  “Just wait five minutes,” said Cullen.

  “I'm going to kill both of you.”

  “If you're here, you're unemployed,” Neely said into the mic. “Most of you want a career, but don't have the skills. Most of you know the lowest-paying jobs are the hardest jobs, but you can't get out. You're struggling with being in a hole you can't climb out of. You feel you don't have options. Well, I'm here to give you one.”

  Neely had their attention now. In fact, he was proving to be a gifted motivational speaker.

  “I need coders,” he continued. “Don't let the word scare you, maybe you don't know computers, maybe they baffle you. It doesn't matter. I can train you. I can train anybody. In two weeks I'll teach you what a community college would take six months to show you. Give me two years, and you'll have a career. But you're going to have to listen. You going to have to give me everything you got, and if you do I'll put six figures in your pocket in two years. And yes, I'm willing to put that in writing.”

  Hope turned to Jess and said, hissing under her breath. “How dare you? You know what he is. This is the last place on earth I want to be.”

 

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