Geek Mafia by Rick Dakan (beach read txt) 📖

“Well, why would you?” asked Bee with surprise. “You’re not really involved in it. Well, come to think of, actually you are a little bit.”

“Huh?” asked Paul, confused.

“Well not really involved, but you know, you saw the opening move,” Bee said.

“When was this?”

“The day you met Chloe. In that Mexican restaurant where she was arranging for the little mariachi salt shakers to be put on the tables.”

“Oh yeah…” Paul said. He’d forgotten about Chloe’s original excuse for being in the restaurant. She’d claimed to be doing market research, but in retrospect that had to have been a lie. “What were those things anyway?”

“They were bugs,” Bee said. “The target eats there all the time or something and Kurt wanted to listen in on his table talk. So we had to figure a way to bug every table. I made them myself.”

“Wow,” said Paul, seeing new depths to this crew and the lengths to which they’d go. “Did you make the mariachi men too?”

Bee laughed, “No, Kurt found those. He’s actually pretty amazing that way. It’s kind of what he does.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Kurt’s a scrounger, you know? His whole deal is he knows how to find stuff. But he keeps his methods to himself. It’s always a friend of a friend or something like that, but we never know for certain. Personally, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s just stealing the stuff.”

“Really?”

“It could be. I don’t have any reason to believe it, but come on. A guy that quiet? He can’t have THAT many friends! He can almost always find any piece of equipment we need and he rarely takes more than a few days to get it.”

“Huh. Interesting.” They started uncoiling wires and digging around behind one of the computers, trying to find the right port. “I’m surprised you didn’t have a high quality printer like this before. Seems like it would come in handy.”

“Not as much as you’d think,” said Bee. “We don’t do much that’s on paper, you know? The more digital it is the better, as far as we’re concerned. It’s much easier to cover your tracks that way, assuming you know what you’re doing. Paper can theoretically be traced, or you might leave a fingerprint on it or whatever.”

“Fingerprints. I hadn’t even thought of that. We should probably wear gloves whenever we’re handling these fake comics, huh?”

“That’s a good point,” agreed Bee. “I’m sure Chloe thought of that – she always thinks of everything, which is part of why she rocks. But make sure you mention it to her. At the very least it’ll make you look smart.” She gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Chloe always falls for the smart guys.”

“Thanks,” said Paul, surprised but pleased with this piece of romantic advice. “I will.”

After they spent a few hours trying to find the right drivers to install on the machine, they hooked the printer up and it worked like a dream. Paul made a few test runs and they came out great. It occurred to him then that they should have a burn bag for everything they didn’t use or that was left over – shredded papers could still be reassembled. Not so much with ashes. He’d mention that to Chloe as well. He wanted to show her he could hold his own. After all, this whole thing was his idea.

All the Crewmembers working on this job met the next day, even the elusive Kurt, who was pulling double duty. Paul had his samples with him. They crammed into Chloe’s living room once again, and she presided over the assembly wearing a tight-fitting Supergirl t-shirt in honor of the occasion. 

“Ok, kids, the game’s afoot. We’re about to spring into action here and I want to make sure everyone knows what’s what.” She turned her attention to Paul for a moment. “Just so you know, Paul, we always try and keep everyone in the Crew in the loop as much as possible. While everyone might not have much of a role in this one, they’re all part of the team so they all have a right to know.” This insight drove home the fact for Paul that he wasn’t really a part of the group, otherwise they’d have told him what Kurt was up to. At least for the moment, he was still an outsider.

“We’re about ready to go green on this comic counterfeiting thing,” Chloe continued. “But there are a few things we’ve got to decide. It’s a little more complicated than I thought at first, but that’s ok. Still nothing we can’t handle.”

“We’ve got three main teams working this. I’ll give the bad news first. Most of you guys are going to be e-slaves for this one.” There was a chorus of groans from the group. Chloe had already explained this term to Paul. “E-slaves” were the ones who would spend hours and hours selling all the forged comics on e-Bay. It was a thankless but definitely necessary job and since they wanted to pull their plan off quickly, they’d need as many people focused on selling as possible. “I know, I know, it sucks. But you get the same share as everyone else.”

“Team two is going to be net-heads. There is, it turns out, a computer security aspect to this caper. I’ve been poking around on the Comics Rating Group’s Web site and they have a database up there that lists every single comic book they’ve ever graded. So, every time they grade Punisher #1 or whatever, they add it to the database. That way, collectors know how many of every issue there are out there. It’s a way to discourage, you know, people like us.” This got a laugh. 

“We’re going to need to get into that database and be able to make some changes at will. Getting into it shouldn’t be much problem. I know you guys could probably hack it clean right now if you wanted to, but we’re going to get inside the door, so you might as well wait until that’s set up. Once we’re up and running in their system, Paul will let you know what books we’re forging and you can eke up the database numbers gradually, so as not to tip anybody off. We’re also going to need you to fiddle with some numbers in their inventory system as well, but I’ll get to that later.”

“And that leaves our main team. We get to go on a road trip. The company’s offices are down in L.A. and we need to get a good look around at how they do things. We’ve taken apart a bunch of these sealed and graded books and it’s a fairly specialized process. It’d cost more than it’s worth for us to set up our own facility to seal these things up the right way, so I think we’re going to have to use the machines in the actual company, which should be fun.”

“The road team will be me, Raff, Bee, and Filo. Paul will be coming along as well. We’re heading out tomorrow – as soon as these fakes get printed.” She took Paul’s samples from him and passed them out to the crowd. “Everyone take a look at these and see if you can find any faults or flaws. The more eyes on this, the better. They look great to me, but what the fuck do I know?” The group looked at the fake covers, most of them pretty carefully, some of them only cursorily. 

“As of now, we’re full sail ahead, so everyone needs to act accordingly. No leaks. No chit-chat with outsiders. Everyone focus on your jobs and we can make a nice little score. Capisce?” Everyone nodded. “Ok, kiddies, break up into groups. Kurt, pick yourself four hackers. After we get inside their offices and plant the Trojan Horse you need to start poking around anything and everything related to this CRG – but keep a low profile! Popper, babe, you get the e-slaves. Sorry girl, you had all the fun on that hotel job last month. Take everyone who’s left, pour a round of shots, and start setting up those false fronts for the e-Bay accounts, mail forwarders, too, ok?”

“And Paul? Put your latex gloves on and get ready to have some fun. You and me are making sweet, sweet counterfeit comics for the rest of the night.” She grabbed him by the hands and yanked him up off the couch and into her arms. “Come on, big boy, Bee’s gonna give us a hand.”

They spent the rest of the evening and most of the next day making their fakes, as promised. Paul had gotten the process down to a science while making his test runs, so the work went pretty fast. The resulting fake covers then got cut down to size and stapled onto the comics insides that Paul had selected from the boxes and boxes the Crew had brought him. They had particular fun mixing classic X-Men covers with worthless Archie interiors and plastering Batman’s visage over Richie Rich. “They’re both spoiled trust fund babies,” Chloe had pointed out. 

Paul had gone to the trouble of washing out the covers on some of them in Photoshop, making them appear faded by the sun and time. Not so much that it would seriously compromise the value, but enough to make them more believable. Bee spent her time with some small tools and a cup of tea. She was adding other signs of aging to the “older” comics – staining some with the tea. Using the tools, she made small stress fractures and folds. Bee loved detail work like this, and Chloe had to keep pushing her to make just a few changes and then keep going.

They put the new fakes into plastic sleeves for safe keeping, and over the course of the next sixteen hours or so they filled out three long boxes of comics, each holding over a hundred forgeries. An hour later, Raff and Filo pulled up with an extended cab van they’d gotten from somewhere. They loaded the comics up, along with some electronics gear, sleeping bags, and a cooler full of food. Then they were on the road, Raff and Filo up front, driving them south to LA while Chloe, Paul, and Bee crashed in the back. One thing for sure, thought Paul, Chloe and her friends seldom wasted much time.

That night they set up shop in a pair of motel rooms located about a mile from the Comics Rating Group’s headquarters. They were all in one room going over the plan for the next day. An arsenal of electronics lay spread out on the bedspread, as Raff and Bee explained how each piece worked. But Paul wasn’t really listening. He was thinking about his role in the plan and the fact that it wasn’t as significant as he wanted. To be honest, he wasn’t even sure why they’d brought him along. This was his plan after all and he wanted a more central part.

“Can I make a suggestion?” asked Paul, interrupting Raff, who shot him a surprised look. “Why is Raff going inside posing as the collector? No offense man, but you don’t know anything about comics.”

“That’s why you’re here, Paul, to help me out.”

“Why don’t I just go in instead?” said Paul, his stomach suddenly swirling. Is this what he wanted? Apparently so.

“You want to go in?” asked Chloe. “Why?”

“Well, I just think it makes more sense. I speak their language, you know what I mean? Besides, from what you’ve said, there’s not much to it. I basically go in and