Smith and Marty

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VZhitogoroshi
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Smith and Marty

Post by VZhitogoroshi » Wed Dec 31, 2008 9:58 pm

The darkness seemed to fold in on itself as the man – Smith - wrapped his coat tighter around himself, a small island in a sea of reflected moonlight. Aside from the occasional growls of wind and the metronome of Smith's shivers, the night was quiet and still. How long had he been at this? His watch had given up operation in the overpowering cold.

“Ahem.” There was another, now. Standing an even head over his companion, his snowshoes slid quietly toward Smith.

“What the **** was this about, Marty? It's ****ing freezing out here and there's not a road or warm house for miles.”

“Which is doubtless what any would-be observer thinks on a night like tonight.”

“Because Tompkins has a goddamn spybird.”

“That spybird is tonight investigating a friend of mine who was surprisingly willing to be investigated. For a fee. Which means we should get to business.”

“I suppose after Fort Girard I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. As long as you don't expect me to subsidize this friend of yours.” His gloved hand reached into his coat pocket. “I got all of the files you asked for.”

“Do you have a backup?”

“On a blacked out terminal with all networking cards torn out – ****, Marty, I wrote the protocol. Now here's your disk, provided it hasn't been destroyed by your idea of a good rendezvous point.”

“How did the extraction go?”

“Not too hard. Tompkins has the money to throw around for infrastructure, no question, but he's spending it on self-titled professionals and not the real ones. His firewalls were a ***** to get through, but once I was in none of his Net Operators were worth a damn.”

Marty growled. “So he knows you took the data.”

“He knows someone on an independent network broke in and took any number of files from the 13% of his database that was trashed.”

“And you think he won't immediately figure out what you wanted?”

“It will cross his mind. But I made sure to take only low-encryption files save that one, and make it look like an accident during a broad sweep and clear. I'm sure he thinks that level 8 encryption is still unbreakable. His worry will be -”

For the first time, Marty looked genuinely surprised. “Are you saying it's not? Level 8 encryption, I mean?”

Smith smiled, then winced as the movement broke his chapped lips. Licking the blood, he murmured, “Not as of three days ago. Nicole, of course.”

“I must give her a raise.”

“The last one hasn't even gotten through yet. Nothing like being the best hacker in the world to make you paranoid to all hell.”

Marty shook his head. “Ah, but I've been distracted from the main point! You have decrypted the files, no?”

“Of course. I'm sure as hell not saving them as a present for you.” Smith was willing to take the pain to smile again. “Go on. Ask me, 'What did you learn when you decrypted the files?'”

“What did you learn-”

“We were right.” He laughed. “We were right on the ****ing ball. Tompkins is sitting right on a rorium mine. And – he doesn't even know what it does!” His laughter grew louder and crazed, disturbing the nighttime calm. “He's keeping it safe because prospectors keep asking for it, but he doesn't know why!”

“So his security will be light.”

“Not light. But nothing like Girard, Marty. If your men can do that again, we've got this.”

“'We?'”

“We. Your contract with the Consortium is over, but I' m seeing this one through. That's enough rorium to put us on the world stage, and that's worth a few more cold nights.”

“Speaking of which.” Like a snake uncoiling, Marty's hand emerged from his coat wielding a gun. The silencer wheezed, a wheeze echoed by the noise of the body hitting the ground. “Observers always think that if you start talking, they're safe. Very easy to shoot as the conversation winds down, and they are just focusing on staying hidden until you leave.”

“You made him sit in this cold for nothing? You're an asshole, Marty.”

“One has to be in this business.”

“Hey, I'm in the business now, aren't I? I better work on being an asshole.” He turned toward the corpse and began trudging through the snow. “I'll start by taking his gloves. They look nice.”

Marty glided away without a word. The business was done, the businessmen were accounted for, and – though he would never admit this to anyone – he was just as cold, just as human. He had stopped showing his humanity long ago, to keep the diverse interests he had sway over in line. Instead of having his own personality, he became what was needed to lead the kind of people that would hack, steal, and kill their way to the top, bringing him along all of the way. Small wonder he was such an asshole.

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