Chapter 29: Chapter twenty-eight

Present day

 

The man in black climbed up the side of Gwen’s apartment building only to find that she had added an alarm system to her windows, probably because he kept breaking in through them. He could have disabled it if he had the right tools, but he didn’t have the same backing he once did. So, instead he climbed back down her building, entered through the lobby and knocked on her door.

The man could hear the sound of a shower shut off within the apartment, and when Gwen came to the door, she was wearing nothing but a towel. Her pink hair was dark with water and clung to her head, giving her face a sweet quality that was immediately undermined by the wicked grin she flashed at the man. That a grin was all she was flashing was only just true, as the towel was barely big enough to cover her and left her long, shapely legs exposed.

“See, I knew you could use a door.”

“If this is what knocking gets me, I’ll make sure to do it more often,” the man said with a smile.

One of Gwen’s eyebrows went up. “Is this a social call then?”

“I’m afraid not,” he said, taking a phone out of his pocket. “I have some more accounts that need looking into. It might be urgent.”

 Gwen frowned. “Give me a second to get dressed.”

The man nodded and followed her only as far as the living room while she ducked into her bedroom and returned moments later in sweatpants, a band t-shirt and a hoodie. She took the phone from him and started working on her computer.

The man waited in case Gwen found anything immediately.

“You know,” Gwen said. “It would be a lot easier to find whatever it is you’re looking for in these accounts if I knew what that was.”

The man calculated how much to tell her. She was right of course, but he had already taken that into account. What was more concerning was her tone. It spoke of frustration with being kept in the dark.

The man entered his mind palace and climbed a winding staircase to a door that looked a lot like the one he had just entered through in reality.

He didn’t need to actively use his mind palace to remember facts anymore, he had long since moved on from that. But if the mental skills taught by the Program only assisted with recall, they wouldn’t be nearly as valuable as they were. He could store other things in his mind palace; mindsets, muscle memories, modes of thinking. These required a conscious effort to invoke, but they could be invaluable in all sorts of situations.

Inside the door was a room that looked much like the one he was actually standing in. And, in that room, was a facsimile of Gwen. The mental representation of Gwen spoke calmly, outlining the situation.

“That tone, combined with the micro-expression she made before speaking, indicates she is more upset than she is letting on. If you don’t share some information with her, it will likely lead to a fight where you will be forced to do so in order to get whatever intel she uncovers or burn her as a resource.”

“How much information would be sufficient?” the man asked, turning to where a mental representation of Oliver, his old psychology teacher, had entered the room.

“Best to be generous in situations like this,” the simulacrum of Oliver said. “Tell her what the information is, where you got it, and what you want it for. That should be enough to overwhelm any frustrations.”

This conversation happened within the man’s mind and took but the blink of an eye, so there was no significant pause before the man said, “Fair enough. You’ve earned a little trust.”

Gwen blinked. “Really?”

“Really,” he said. “These accounts are the ones looked into by a corrupt FBI agent working on a taskforce looking into the murder of Lance Bryson. He handled the money for an organization called the Program that I am working to take down. He already covered up their connection to one payment, so it stands to reason they would have him cover up others too. One of the other cops on the taskforce found out he was corrupt and I got these records off her phone.”

“Are these the same people that were putting money into MegaSat?”

The man nodded. “I found them working on a network of satellites that are supposedly meant to beam wireless internet to parts of the world with very little infrastructure.”

“That sounds… impractical,” Gwen said.

“Agreed. It’s obviously a cover. But they are using the fact that pulling it off would require technology that doesn’t exist to justify the unusual, elongated shape of the satellites and the addition of a very large amount of tungsten.”

“Okay,” Gwen said, thinking it over. “Any idea what it’s a cover for?”

“With that much tungsten? Kinetic bombardment platforms. Almost certainly.”

Gwen looked at the man in a way that suggested she didn’t know what that was.

“Orbital weapons. They drop large tungsten rods that the earth’s gravity turns into powerful weapons. Hard to defend against.”

Gwen looked concerned at this, seemingly realizing the implications of what they were talking about. “They are building a weapon of mass destruction?”

“Several,” the man said. “But the problem with kinetic bombardment is how to aim. They will need targeting computers better than anything in use today. Intercepting those may be the easiest way to sabotage this weapon’s system, so anything you can find in those accounts that links to a targeting system would be very helpful.”

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“Ah, okay,” Gwen said. “And what makes you qualified to stop these people?”

The man said nothing. Gwen accepted this. He had already shared far more than he had before, she didn’t need his whole life story.

They were silent, her working at the computer, him standing motionless to her side. He watched her work, but didn’t fully understand it. It had been more than a decade since he had tried to hack anything, and he hadn’t been very good at it even then.

Eventually, Gwen spoke.

“This could be something. Looks like a hundred million dollars has been placed in an anonymous offshore account. There’s no way the FBI didn’t think that was worth looking into.”

“At what bank?” the man asked, guessing the answer.

“Ah, it’s called the National Monetary & Financial. It’s based in Laos.”

The man nodded. “It’s a Night Market account.”

“How do you know?” Gwen asked, not asking what the Night Market was. It made sense that she would know, she was a successful criminal after all, she would have heard of it.

“I’ve seen it before,” the man said, offering no further explanation. “That could be where the Program is planning to pick up their targeting system.”

The Night Market was a moving auction of black-market technology. Buyers had to place at least a hundred million in an escrow account just to attend as a measure to discourage potential thieves, and those accounts were always held at NMF as those letters could also stand for Night Market Fund. Apparently, someone at the Night Market thought that was funny.

The Program had monitored the Night Market for years, and often stepped in to halt the sale of various items before they got to the auction. They had never shut it down though as it was where they procured a lot of their best technology, often being the only bidder on the items they wanted as they had shut down many of the other organizations with the funds to bid against them.

“You’re planning on going to the Night Market then?”

The man nodded.

“And how exactly do you plan to do that? Do you have a hundred million dollars?”

He did not. He also didn’t have the intel-gathering team it would take to scope out the security of such a place properly. With that information and, ideally, his suit, he could have broken in without much trouble. Without it, it was still possible, but there was a serious risk that he would be discovered. If that happened, he could still fight his way through and probably take whatever targeting technology the Program wanted there, but that could bring him into more direct conflict with the Program than he was ready for just yet. Also, he didn’t want to just stop the sale. He wanted to track the buyer back to whatever Program facility they were working at, which wouldn’t be possible if he had to go in by force. Plus, there was always the chance that the seller would be able to get away with their tech before he got to them.

No, the direct approach was too risky here. But a hundred million was a lot more than he had. Gwen could maybe rustle up that much through illicit means if the next Night Market wasn’t for a while, but that could draw the wrong kind of attention if the money was traced. One step at a time though.

“Do you know where and when the next Night Market is?” he asked.

Gwen shook her head. “I could look into it though.”

“Don’t bother. I know someone that can help with that. Keep looking through these accounts. See if you can find anything else suspicious.”

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll email anything I find to the usual account.”

“Actually,” the man said, picking up a pen and writing down a phone number. “Call me on this number. It will be faster. That could be important if you get into any trouble looking into these people.”

Gwen paled a little at that. “How worried should I be exactly?” she asked. Tellingly, she didn’t bring up the option of not helping him in order to protect herself.

“I’m not sure,” the man said. “It depends how focussed the Program is on other things. But this is more dangerous than when you’ve helped me in the past. What you’re looking into could draw the Program’s attention, so be careful and if you think your life is in danger for any reason, call that number. I’ll protect you.”

Gwen thanked him, which was somewhat strange as he was the one who had involved her in this mess in the first place, and he had still made no offer to leave her out of it.

The man moved to leave and Gwen got up to see him out. She paused at the door as though she had something further to say, biting the bottom of her lip attractively.

The man cocked his head to one side slightly, silently asking her what it was.

She seemed to go back and forth with herself for a moment before grabbing the man and kissing him. The man wound one hand around her waist and drew her in, appreciating in the smell of her shampoo and the softness of her mouth.

They stayed that way for a long moment before the kiss broke off.

“Be careful,” she said softly.

The man nodded. “You too.”

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