by Jack July
Larry on the other hand was thriving. A year into his schooling with some highly skilled special education teachers, he actually began to string some words together. Then he was introduced to something that would change the lives of him and his sister. Mr. Periwinkle, the computer science teacher, sat Larry down in front of a computer and began to teach him Windows. At the behest of his sister, Mr. Periwinkle put Cat in the Hat wallpaper on the computer, which made Larry’s hands flap. That was the sign he was happy. Mr. Periwinkle couldn’t really teach him so he would load tutorials and leave Larry alone. He began to blast through them, sometimes three or four a day. Then Larry got to tutorials on code writing, and that’s when it happened.
Larry could seemingly enter the computer and walk around inside it. His mind worked in ones and zeros, algorithms, programming languages and the memorization of numerous source codes. When it came to computer science, he had an eidetic memory. Mr. Periwinkle thought about introducing him to a professor he knew from MIT. Then he had another idea.
A year later, Virginia sat down with Larry to watch him play on the computer. Mr. Periwinkle had loaned him one from his lab and set it up at home. For fun, he enjoyed finding information on his favorite subject, Dr. Seuss. He was playing a little game based on Dr. Seuss characters. She laughed and smiled when he would grunt and his hands flap. He was so happy. Just out of curiosity she asked him, “What do you and Mr. Periwinkle do at school?”
He sat quietly for about twenty seconds then said, “Feed Horwses.”
Virginia cocked her head and said, “How do you do that?”
Larry sat for another thirty or so seconds and said, “Money. Horwses need money to eat.”
“Can I see the horses?” Virginia asked.
Larry hit a few keys and brought up a site, flapped his hand and said, “See, Horwses Horwses.”
Virginia sat back in her seat and smiled. It was the home page and logo for Wells Fargo Bank.
The following day at school Virginia strolled into Larry’s computer science class where Larry and Mr. Periwinkle were hard at work. Virginia sat down next to the teacher, rubbed his shoulder and said, “So, Larry’s helping you do a little banking?”
Periwinkle went stiff, unsure of what she knew he smiled and said, “What do you mean?”
She shook her head at him and whispered in his ear, “You lie to me, I’ll walk your golden goose right the fuck outta here.”
Periwinkle nodded and said, “Okay, not here, we need to talk.”
They sat at the coffee shop. Virginia took a sip and said, “So I was right, he’s smart isn’t he?”
Periwinkle shook his head and said, “No, it’s way more than that. You can’t begin to understand what he does.”
“Okay, so, how much has he made so far?”
Periwinkle paused for a little too long, then said, “About a hundred thousand.”
Virginia shook her head, “Okay Paul, can I call you Paul?” Paul nodded his head. “You just fucking lied to me. That’s one and that’s all you get.”
Paul looked at the floor, raised his head and said, “Four hundred thousand.”
Virginia felt her heart jump. She took the time to drink some coffee and take a bite from a scone as she thought this out. “Paul, what exactly does he do and how do you keep us out of prison?”
Paul leaned across the table and in a soft voice said, “Okay, imagine if you could walk into a bank, walk through the vault, take what you want and walk back out without being seen. He can do that, virtually. How we don’t get caught? We don’t get greedy. Little amounts, less than rounding errors in big banks, smaller amounts in small banks. We should be finished before any investigations start. We take our money and live happily ever after.”
Virginia thought for a moment and said, “How much is happily ever after?”
Paul whispered, “Twenty-five million…each.”
Virginia smiled and said under her breath, “Holy shit. Okay, let’s get busy.”
Virginia was grateful to Lola and showed her all the affection she was capable of. She slowly ramped up the idea of moving out right after her senior year. Paul bought a very nice townhouse and outfitted it with top of the line computer equipment. Virginia decorated it to look like a scene out of the book The Cat in the Hat. They agreed that Larry would work no more than six hours a day. Paul set up accounts in the Grand Caymans and Switzerland. They went slow until Virginia graduated, then she and Larry moved into the townhouse and they went to work.
Everything was going well. The accounts crested the five million dollar mark and they celebrated. However, as can happen, human nature reared its ugly head. Paul’s new found addiction to exotic dancers, cocaine and fast cars combined with Virginia’s addiction to men, then women and alcohol, began to make them suspicious of each other. Soon they began to argue and fight. They both made the ill-advised decision to make a few large scores and separate themselves from each other. What they didn’t know was the FBI had been investigating the little amounts that Paul assumed would go unnoticed. An entire staff of forensic computer techs hunted twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Finally with luck, they got a break.
Larry entered the cyber vault of B of A, then he said, “Vwisitours.”
“What?” asked Paul while looking at a shrugging Virginia.
A minute later Larry said again, “Vwisitours.”
“Oh, visitors,” said Virginia.
Paul perked up a little and said, “Who Larry, who are the visitors?”
Another minute passed before Larry said, “Fwibee.”
“What?” Larry and Virginia said at the same time.
A few minutes later Larry said it again, “Fwibee.”
Then Paul looked over his shoulder, saw it, and shouted, “OH SHIT, THE FBI!”
As soon as he said it, the doors to the townhouse were kicked open. Their little business venture had ended, badly.
The authorities conducted a show trial, a message to hackers that their crime would not be tolerated. Virginia got twenty years in federal prison and Paul twenty-five, the five extra years for the half-pound of cocaine. Then there was another trial, the battle for the custody of Larry, who would not be tried. Kent and Karen both appeared, but the judge laughed at them and turned him over to Lola Grayson. Companies from all over the world offered millions for Larry’s services, but as everyone quickly figured out, he would do very little without Virginia.
A thorough debrief of the crimes was held in secret between the FBI and the Department of the Treasury. A smartly-dressed, older lady sat in. Her name was Adele Harris. She listened intently until she heard what she thought she would hear.
“No, sir,” said the lead investigator, “I would not classify him as a hacker. It’s quite a bit more than that. He’s ah, well, he’s a weapon.” Adele Harris smiled.
Virginia sat quietly in her federal prison cell reading. In the six months since her conviction she still couldn’t believe what had happened. A guard appeared, “Miss Ellison, you have a visitor.”
Virginia sat down at the table and looked at the sharply dressed older woman. “I don’t know who you are, but I ain’t writing a fucking book, so don’t ask.”
Adele smiled, introduced herself and said, “Miss Ellison, how would you like to get up from this table and walk out the front gate with me?”
That got her attention, “What do I have to do?” Virginia asked.
“As you must know, Larry is very talented and he doesn’t do anything without you. We would like both of you to work with us. Give us ten years and we expunge your record. Mess up one time and you go back to prison. What do you think?” asked Adele.
“Who is ‘us’?” asked a suspicious Virginia.
“The CIA,” answered Adele.
“How about five years,” said Virginia.
Adele stood up and turned towards the d
oor, “Jailer I wish to leave.”
Virginia panicked, “NO, NO, OKAY, PLEASE, OKAY!”
Adele turned around and said, “Young lady, don’t you ever fuck with me. I will make you disappear, for good, do you understand?”
Virginia nodded her head then Adele said, “The answer to that is, ‘Yes ma’am.’”
“Yes ma’am,” said Virginia with a level of respect she didn’t know she had.
Virginia got what most didn’t, a second chance. If only she could keep from screwing it up.
CHAPTER 24
November 21st, 7:00 A.M Berlin, Germany
It was the morning after Boguslaw Zielinski’s fortieth birthday party. Bogus, pronounced Bahgus, was the nickname his friends gave him. Friends? He questioned that more and more. He pushed the long bronzed leg of the Italian super-model off of him and sat up in bed. When his eyes finally focused he looked around the suite--the largest and most expensive suite in all of Berlin situated on the top floor of the Schlosshotel im Grunewald. He grabbed a robe off the chair, put it on and walked to the shower. He couldn’t use the one in his bathroom because it was full of a tangle of naked insensate people, so he moved into the large living room. More unconscious bodies were everywhere. As he passed her, he shook his head at the famous American actress, a young actress, a very young actress. How in the hell did she get in here? he thought to himself. Her small bare body was wrapped around an older, paunchy, and extremely hairy yet bald movie director.
The large main room was wrecked. It reeked of various scents of smoke, along with perfumes, aftershaves and sweaty sex. The beautiful carpets and furnishing were littered with bottles, crushed canapés and filled ashtrays, while suspicious powders drifted across the large glass coffee table. He left the main room to search the bedrooms for an open shower and nearly tripped over a famous European soccer star lying in his own vomit.
Bogus found an open shower, turned on the water and stepped in. The icy cold water shocked him awake. Then he turned the hot water just as hot as he could stand it. With his palms pushing on the tile in front of him, he let the water run over his head then down his six foot average, but, chiseled frame. He hoped the hot water blasting against his head would make the headache stop. It didn’t. Then his aching head brought him up short. T, I’m late, oh, she will be angry. She didn’t ask him for much, but when she did, he knew to jump.
He went into his closet where selections of clothes were hung. He chose a dark suit with a blue tie. He knew he looked good in that. There was no time for his usual bathroom ritual of facial cleansing and primping his luxurious head of blond hair. Turning to look one last time at the debauchery he was leaving behind, he felt ashamed. Really Boguslaw, what are you doing? he thought, questioning himself yet again. He walked out into the hall and called for his assistant and best friend from childhood, Manchin. “Tell the captain to spin it up, I’ll be out soon.”
Manchin nodded then handed Bogus a brown envelope. It was the final report on a helicopter crash that had killed five of his board members. Men and women he treated like family. He opened it and scanned it until he came to the conclusion. The blades on the helo were sold as new; however, they were reconditioned and bought from the Chinese as new. His people had bought them from AeroMak, which was already under indictment for doing the same thing. He called right away and put investigators on it. He would get answers.
Bogus walked to the concierge at the end of the hall, picked up the phone and called the manager. “Rolf.” He paused as Rolf returned greetings. “Yes, yes, a wonderful time. Rolf, if you would be so kind, please put out a breakfast buffet for my guests, make sure they all have transportation home and add ten percent over the gratuity to the bill just for the cleaning staff.” Rolf kissed his ass and yes, you can have your ass kissed too much. Bogus would love it if just once someone told him to get screwed. He smiled and thought to himself, T will handle that.
Bogus walked through the lobby, out the front door and down the path to the heliport. He saw a woman with a baby carriage sitting on a bench smiling at her child. There was a time when he would simply walk by, ignoring a small child or baby. But now? He slowed enough to get a glimpse of the cherubic face and flash an approving smile at the mother. It made him warm inside, a feeling he wasn’t used to. Maybe he would find a wife and settle down. The problem was, what woman would satisfy him? He once joked to friends that his wife had yet to be born. Was that true? He thought. Oh well, he had a new mission and he loved his rare visits back to his younger days as a spy for the Polish government. Thinking about it made his steps faster, his eyes brighter and his headache begin to go away.
The rotors on the customized Sikorsky S76C were already spinning as Bogus climbed aboard. He gave the destination to the pilot using co-ordinates 49.378, 8.629. The pilot quickly scanned his map and said, “Mr. Z, that’s Patrick Henry Village, restricted airspace.”
Patrick Henry Village is one of the multitudes of American bases located in Europe. Although the US Army runs it, it is actually a co-base due to its location. This means it operates under the laws and requirements of the German government. Its position doesn’t place it among the most strategic European bases. The purpose and objectives of this camp are not clear for everyone. Bogus knew all about the massive underground facility, which resided beneath the village, because several of his companies had helped to build it.
“Yes, I know,” said Bogus. He took a few deep breaths from the oxygen mask, pure oxygen is a quick hangover cure. Then he continued, “You’re going to have to use your military training to sneak in. That is why I hired you. That is why, out of all of my pilots, you are my favorite. Once you set it down we will be fine.”
“Mr. Z, they will blow us out of the sky,” said the captain stoically.
“Then be very careful. Now let’s go,” said Bogus.
Bogus smirked to himself then gave it some thought, Would they actually fire on us? Oh well, if they do hit us, that’s a very good excuse I can use to tell T why I am so late.
The Qantas 747 touched down at Reagan National at seven thirty a.m. and shortly thereafter Cody walked down the jetway. He entered the terminal and scanned the crowd, looking for a spook who was supposed to meet him. It took about thirty seconds and there he was. Cody walked up to the man and said, “Cody Harrick,” and held out his hand. The man just looked up with a sense of shock and fear at the huge man with the long hair, long beard and clothes made up of various animal skins. Suddenly Cody felt a tapping at the small of his back. A little woman in her forties with short black hair, dressed neatly in a business suit, reached out her hand and said, “Cody, my name is Donna. Please come with me.”
Cody had forgotten how loud and crazy America was. People everywhere, talking, laughing, yelling and all the lights and signs, he knew he would have to get used to it quickly. Suddenly the woman opened a side door, bypassing security and led Cody down to the tarmac. She directed him to a large SUV with tinted windows and said, “Get in.”
Cody climbed in, marveling at the vehicle--it was like nothing he had ever seen. “This is nice,” he said as Donna climbed into the driver’s seat. Then, in earnest, without giving it much thought, he looked at the woman and said, “Can your feet reach the pedals?”
She snapped her head around. “Go fuck yourself.”
It was a quiet ride to Langley.
The classical strains of Bolero began softly and then slowly increased in volume until Amy’s eyes opened. She lay listening in the most comfortable bed she had ever slept in. A voice from somewhere in the room said, “Amy, get up. Time to hunt the bad guys.”
“Where are you?” asked Amy looking around.
“In the little box on the nightstand,” said Tatiana.
Amy found the box on the table and said, “Good morning. I’m gonna take a shower and I’ll be right down.”
“Your uniform is hanging on the doorknob. And put your ha
ir up,” said Tatiana.
“Yes ma’am,” said Amy, throwing in a playful salute that Tatiana couldn’t see...she hoped.
Amy stretched and felt a little pull at her side where the stitches were. She looked down at her injured knee, which felt okay but still had a yellow and green hue from the deep bruise working its way to the surface. Fortunately she hadn’t torn the rib cartilage, just ripped open the stitches. She walked to the bathroom and looked at her side in the mirror. Carla Jo had stitched it up like a football. It shouldn’t open again.
After her shower she dressed in a blue silk top and professional-looking black suit jacket and skirt. The clothes seemed to fit fine, just a little loose. The shoes were like a cross between an athletic shoe and a patent leather flat. They were very comfortable but not very attractive. Following a short elevator ride and a few wrong turns, Amy made it to the kitchen. Tatiana looked up from a file and said, “How do you do it? You even make that outfit look good. You are not wearing any makeup, either; are you?”
Amy shook her head. “Oh, to be young again,” said Tatiana with a little smile. “Sit down; we need to have one last talk. Well, I talk; you listen.”
“Sure, go ahead,” said Amy before she grabbed a fresh baked muffin and a small bowl of fruit.
Tatiana closed the folder and began to speak. “There is a part of this job that agents either love or hate. It is assuming a different identity. When you are on the job, Amy does not exist, there is only Elle. Tatiana does not exist. There is only T. I don’t know Elle yet. You’ll start with her personality and morals and go all the way to how she walks and talks. She will not and cannot be Amy. Do not see this as a burden. See it as an opportunity to, if just for a short period of time, be everything you have always wanted to be. Erase any parts of, or even all of your past, no matter how painful, because it no longer exists. You are free to focus on one thing, the successful completion of the mission. Commit to your primal needs and urges; they are what will both please and protect you.”