The Hack

by Will Patching

  She checked the clock above the secretary’s dyed head of hair. It was almost 10am and no sign of Jerry’s friend. He was bound to be some cranky old fart too.

  ‘How long will he be, missus?’

  The eyes glowed and the dragon breathed fire. ‘It’s Mizz. You need to learn some manners young lady. He’ll be here any minute now. Mind you, you’ll be lucky if he agrees to see you. Mr Munroe is a very important man.’

  ‘Yeah, well Sir Jeremy Green is my dad. And I bet he’s more important than you or your boss.’

  The receptionist had tried to fob her off earlier, told her to make an appointment for next week. Kylie knew she did not look too good, her ear bandaged and her tee shirt pink stained from where she had tried to rinse the blood off in the hospital sink earlier.

  Her stomach grumbled – she was starving. And she felt as out of place here as a cat at Crufts. If she’d had some money she would have been long gone by now. She thought to herself, it’s all very well winning the sodding lottery, but not if you haven’t got the ready cash to buy breakfast.

  ‘I think it best you leave right now if you can’t keep a civil tongue.’ The woman tilted back her head and glared at Kylie down the full length of her prominent nose. Nostrils flaring. ‘I’ll only tolerate so much. And if I find out you’re lying about Sir Jeremy being... a relative, I will call the police.’

  Before Kylie could respond to the empty threat with a withering stream of invective the front door opened and a handsome man sprang up the steps.

  ‘Mr Munroe, this young lady claims she was sent by Sir Jeremy.’ The wicked smile conveyed her anticipation of the ragamuffin’s comeuppance.

  Munroe took in Kylie and his receptionist, the frigid atmosphere, and immediately went to the young girl and took her hand.

  ‘Kylie? Delighted to meet you. Jeremy is an old friend, he helped me a great deal when I was training. He’s a great man. Fantastic judge. Come on in, my dear.’

  His smile melted Kylie’s knees. She was in love. He was still holding her hand as he led her into his office.

  ‘Vera. Hold my calls. This is a very important client for us.’ The man’s cheeky grin and cheery words stunned his receptionist. Kylie could see her mouth sag open as he closed the door on her.

  Munroe beamed at her. ‘I wasn’t expecting you today, but Jeremy told me to look after you, so that’s exactly what I propose to do. Take a seat. You want a cup of tea? Coffee? Some Coke? I think we might even be able to rustle up some muffins?’

  Definitely in love.

  ‘I’m bloody starving. Any chance of a bacon buttie or summat?’

  Munroe picked up the phone and grinned at Kylie. ‘Vera, can you pop out and get two rounds of bacon sandwiches and bring us some tea and a can of coke? Thanks.’ He chuckled. ‘Don’t mind Vera. She’s not as bad as she makes out. A legacy from my senior partner, I’m afraid.’

  ‘She’s a bitch.’ Kylie thought he was the best looking man she had ever met. And he was being so nice to her. Must be the money.

  ‘You’ve got a point there. What happened to your ear?’

  ‘Catfight. Some tart ripped my earring out. Bloody hurts.’ It did too.

  ‘Sorry to hear that. Anyway, Jeremy tells me you’re his little secret. When were you born Kylie? He says you’re sixteen or so, but you look younger to me.’

  ‘Almost seventeen.’ She then gave Munroe her date of birth as he looked quizzically at her. ‘My mum’s a junkie. I was born a heroin addict. I’ve been slow to develop ever since.’ Kylie had lied to both Jerry and George. She had not wanted them to know she was already sixteen in case they threw her out that very first night. If Jerry had thought she was younger, why disappoint him?

  If Munroe was shocked by what she said, it did not show. Kylie liked him even more for not judging her.

  ‘Really? That makes things easier. Your dad says you were a real surprise. He didn’t know he was your dad until recently. Always wanted children of his own. And now he wants to put things right for you financially, feels he owes you for not being in your life for all these years. Says your mother made your life hell.’

  She loved that. Your dad. Jerry was true to his word.

  ‘Yeah she did, the Bitch. Does she have to know about this?’

  ‘Not at all. Sir Jeremy has set up a trust for you. Did he explain?’

  ‘Sort of.’ Kylie did not want to appear thick in front of this lovely man, but needed to understand what was going on. ‘He said it was like I’ve won the lottery. He’s selling a flat and the money’s mine. Five million quid. And you’re gonna help me, make sure I don’t do nuffin stupid. Blow it all or summat!’ She giggled, relaxed for the first time since the men in black had hammered on her door that morning.

  ‘Sounds about right. I’m your trustee. Did he explain that?’

  ‘Yeah. I can trust you.’

  ‘Well, yes, you can. I will make sure you’ve always got money and won’t let anything bad happen to your lottery win. I’ll control the investments until you’re twenty-one. Then you can take it all, spend it, or invest it with someone else if you want. Or leave it with me to continue managing if you prefer. Until then I control it. I reckon the proceeds from the sale, invested wisely, should give you an after-tax income of more than thirty thousand pounds a year. Over six hundred pounds a week. And that should grow in line with inflation.’

  ‘Wot?’

  He took her hand across the desk and explained. He was nothing like any teacher she had ever met.

  ‘This is all a little awkward for Jeremy. He’s married and his wife mustn’t know anything about you. It’s why he came to me rather than his family solicitor. It’s going to be our little secret. Okay?’

  ‘Yeah. He said.’

  ‘It’s part of the arrangement, Kylie. The rules of the trust specifically prohibit you from telling anyone about your relationship to Jeremy, no details of any contact he’s made with you. He insisted, to protect you both.’

  ‘Wot’s that mean?’ Kylie was unsure and wanted to know, to be certain she did nothing to endanger her newfound wealth. The door opened and Vera came in laden with food and drink. She showed a thin-lipped smile to Kylie but the younger girl thought the dragon was only trying to be pleasant now she knew she was an important client.

  They ate as Munroe explained what he meant, and then he went on, ‘I need there to be no doubt in your mind as to the consequences of talking to the press, or anyone else.’

  ‘I lose the money if I talk. If you’d said that I’d have understood in the first place!’ She scowled at him. ‘No problem. I won’t talk to nobody.’

  ‘You mustn’t approach Jeremy or his family either, sadly, as he has no other children.’

  ‘I can’t see him again?’ Kylie could feel tears forming. She had just found a dad and now he was gone.

  ‘Not unless he initiates it.’

  Kylie looked blank.

  ‘Sorry. Not unless he decides he wants to see you. And he may well. But only then. Okay?’

  Her bottom lip pushed out as she nodded.

  ‘So, in a week or two you’ll have a great deal of money, Kylie. What are you going to do?’

  ‘Travel. Can you get me a passport? You need one to go to Spain, right?’ She remembered her uncle had one, had shown it to her before he had buggered off to Marbella.

  ‘I’ll need to get a birth certificate first, but if you want a passport in a hurry I’m sure we can organise it.’

  He took more details and they talked about her plans. Kylie got more and more excited as she spoke.

  Then it occurred to her. ‘But I’ve got no money and nowhere to stay while the apartment’s sold.’ She could see the solicitor was about to ask her why, but she hurried on, ‘I just don’t wanna go back to me mum, but Jerry said it could take two weeks to sell, and I don’t wanna sleep on the streets again. And I can’t talk to Jerry... my dad.’

  Her eyes brimmed with tears. She needed a happy pill, this was all too much. Sh
e had been dreaming of spending money she did not yet have, thinking about Spain, but she could not even go back to her flat.

  ‘Don’t you worry about that. I’ll sort you out a hotel and a little money today. Get you organised. And you can call me anytime if you need anything. I’ll tell Vera. You’re a priority client now.’ He smiled at her. ‘Cheer up Kylie. You’re rich!’

  She could have hugged him.

  ***

  When Johnny came to he thought his head must have been used as a football – which, in a way, it had. The vicious kick from Sam was the last thing he remembered, the boot triggering fireworks in his skull, then blackness.

  Where am I?

  Johnny tested the manacle holding his left arm to the wall. He was sitting facing a desktop computer, with his own tablet and Doug’s T12 alongside.

  He tried to focus. Could not. His left eye was swollen shut, blood and other fluid had trickled and dried on his cheek. His eyeball was ruptured, the eye blinded and the nerve endings driving immense pain into his brain. He struggled to think.

  Then he remembered, they threatened to hurt Kate!

  His insides contracted and he doubled up, trying to breathe steadily to control the fear and agony. A sobbing retching noise from outside his head made him think someone else was suffering with him, but as thin brown puke dribbled from his chin on to his knees he realised he was the source of the noise.

  ‘Looks like sleepin beauty’s awake, Jock.’

  The voice came from behind Johnny and he spun round in his chair to see the man. A fat toad, he thought.

  The man who spoke was sitting cross-legged on the floor eating a Chinese meal with chopsticks. ‘Want some?’

  The bowl was thrust at Johnny and he blanched, the taste of vomit in his mouth encouraging more of the same. He shook his head. ‘Who are you? What d’you want? Where’s my sister?’

  Johnny’s tongue felt raw as he spoke and the effort made him rest his head on his arms, elbows folded across his knees. He tried to will the pain away. To concentrate on their words.

  ‘Our mate should be back anytime soon. Hope she weren’t a virgin Johnny, cos she won’t be when Sam gets hold of her! Right Jock?’

  ‘Aye.’

  Johnny remembered the grunted syllable, recognised the man from the van.

  ‘So you need to be a good boy. Wouldn’t want to see Sam and Jock playing mummies and daddies with big sister, would you now?’

  The toad’s greasy lips sucked on a noodle and the slimy worm disappeared into its hole. Johnny watched sauce dribble down the man’s chin. It suddenly seemed really important that the man mop his mouth, lick his lips. Johnny forced his mind to concentrate.

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘You’re a bit keen, ain’t ya? My boss will brief you, sonny boy. We’re waiting on a video link, any time now.’ A fat pink tongue slid out, caught the runaway sauce. ‘But just so as you know,’ the toad pointed at his own chest with the chopsticks, ‘I’m an internet specialist. I run a very successful commercial website from our operation near Moscow. The late, great George Simm was my boss. He was a real genius. Dunno about you though.’ Another noodle slurped into the shiny mouth. ‘You a hacker?’

  ‘I do a bit. You?’ Johnny tried to calm himself, to relax as best he could. At least the toad was someone he could communicate with, a fellow nerd.

  ‘Nah. Too busy wiv a proper job. We make millions selling digital images. I’m responsible for systems.’ The toad puffed out his chest. ‘There are people who’d say I’m a genius.’

  Jock spoke up, his few words enunciated with rare clarity. ‘Aye. Your ma!’ He shook his head and walked out. The toad scowled at Jock’s back.

  ‘So why do you need me?’ Johnny’s confusion peaked. If the toad was so good, surely he was redundant.

  ‘Specific skills. You need to crack open George’s laptop. Good luck, wanker. It’s a T12. Ever heard of that?’

  ‘Been working on it.’

  ‘Yeah?’ The toad’s tongue was loosened by his self-importance. ‘I’ve heard you hacked into the CIA to nick some files. Sounds like bollocks to me.’ The toad belched, lifted a buttock to let off a huge fart, and tossed the empty bowl aside.

  Johnny’s fuzzy mind started to get into gear, despite the excruciating pain in his head. He needed to get the toad on his side.

  ‘I’ve done it many times. They don’t even know I’m in there right now.’

  ‘Yeah. And my prick’s a kipper and we’ll all have fish for tea!’ The toad chuckled at his own incredible wit. He got up and hovered over Johnny. ‘I don’t believe a fuckin word. Save it for people that dunno nowt. But remember, I’m here to keep an eye on you. For the boss. So no fuckin about. If I think you’re trying to pull some cunning stunt you and your sister will regret it. Understand?’

  Johnny tried to sit up and another stream of bile jetted from his mouth and bounced off his knee. As he recovered he asked for some water. The toad handed him a small bottle from a box nearby.

  ‘Thanks. I’ll do whatever you want. This internet site in Russia? Is it kiddie porn?’

  The toad slapped the bottle out of Johnny’s hand and grabbed a fistful of hair. ‘What the fuck’s it to you? Mister Simm was a genius. People didn’t understand him, that’s all. Ah. The boss is here.’

  The screensaver transformed into a face, one Johnny did not recognise. It may have been the light but the eyes seemed to glint yellow. Evil, he thought, shuddered, and closed his good eye, determined not let his guts twist him up again.

  ‘Ah, Manny. I see you’ve introduced yourself to our guest.’ Sir Benjamin watched and waited as Manny let go Johnny’s hair. ‘Looks like he’s had an accident – I take it he’s not causing you trouble?’

  ‘None at all. Just explaining a few things.’

  ‘And the sister? Where is she?’

  ‘Sam’s gone to fetch her – she wasn’t around for the pick up last night. Should be here soon.’

  ‘Well Johnny. I hope you don’t mind doing a few things for me. If you do as you’re told, then there’ll be no damage done. You and Kate will be free to go. How does that sound?’

  Johnny was not so sure. These men wore no masks, were making no attempt to hide their identities. Did they plan to kill him and Kate? It all had something to do with Simm. He wished he had never accessed that CIA file.

  ‘I’ll do whatever you want. Please don’t hurt my sister.’

  ‘Of course. Let me explain. I have a problem. You discovered that the CIA and the FBI believe my dear departed colleague George Simm was a paedophile. I need to be sure they have no proof.’

  ‘They don’t.’

  The toad couldn’t help himself, he cuffed Johnny’s head and said, ‘Ha! What bollocks. You can’t possibly know that!’

  ‘Manny. Shut up. Johnny, pray tell – how can you be sure?’ The tone was oily disbelief.

  ‘I’ve been through their systems. Searched for all files mentioning Simm. They’ve got nuthin. I can show him.’ Johnny flipped a finger at the toad, feeling a little more in control, on home ground despite the pain and nausea trammelling his body.

  ‘Really? That would be a very good start, eh Manny?’ Sir Benjamin was grinning, his face filling the screen as he loomed forward with excitement.

  Truly devilish, thought Johnny.

  ‘Yep. If it’s true and he really can do it. No excuses, Johnny boy.’ Manny sounded sceptical so Johnny took advantage.

  ‘I need to rig up my tablet to this desktop and dial up my home computer in London. Shouldn’t be difficult. Then can I go?’ He pleaded, his voice quavering as he looked from the toad to the devil head on the screen.

  ‘As I said, Johnny. A good start. I also need you to search for some other files. They went... how shall we say? Missing. Some years ago. You see, George also managed to access US Government files. He appropriated thirty or so from the FBI, all contained incriminating evidence – fabricated of course – evidence that would be used to convict myself a
nd other innocents. I believe these files are in George’s special computer.’

  ‘That’s more difficult. I haven’t cracked that one yet, it could take days. Months even.’ Johnny just wanted to leave right now. He would do anything for them, but knew how hard this task would be.

  ‘I’m afraid this is not negotiable. Manny tells me that machine also holds critical information for our Russian operation, among other things, and I need access. I’d suggest you get to work, young man.’ Sir Benjamin’s mouth loomed on the screen, huge and snarling. ‘I want results. Manny. You watch him like a hawk. I’ll call again in an hour.’

  The screen dissolved into a blank window.

  ‘So maestro, what’s first then? Mission Impossible? Crackin the CIA? Or Merlin the fuckin magician on George’s T12? Wot’s it to be?’ The toad rubbed his hands together and laughed, leaning his own face in close to Johnny, blasting garlic and soy sauce into his nose.

  Johnny dry retched. He had never really hated anyone. He was frightened of the CIA but he did not hate them. He realised this toad was someone he could hate, along with the devil head responsible for getting him into this mess.

  And if they hurt Kate...

  ‘CIA first, Manny. You know anything about their security systems?’ Johnny squinted at the screen, the glare causing more pain knifing through his one good optic nerve. He forced himself to ignore it, was relieved to hear Manny’s reply.

  ‘Told ya, I’m not a hacker. ’Course, I know a bit about it though.’

  Yeah, I bet. ‘Okay, let’s get this machine rigged up and then we dial my home PC.’ They worked together and Johnny tried to chat, forcing his mind away from the torture inside his head, the cramping in his guts. He told Manny about the US security systems, even told him about his first run in with the CIA.

  Meanwhile, Johnny’s computer in Balham woke, signalled to him its status.

  ‘You never fuckin did!’ Manny had never believed the rumours of hackers almost starting World War Three.