Terminal Compromise by Winn Schwartau (my reading book .txt) 📖

about it this way,” he said. “Let’s say you get a call

from someone who says they know something about you that you

don’t want them to. That’ll shake you up pretty good, won’t it?”

Scott rapidly agreed. “Good. And the nature of the contact is

threatening, not directly, perhaps, but the undercurrent leaves

no doubt that the caller is not your best friend. Follow?”

“And then,” Scott picked up, “a guy like me calls with the same

information. The last person in the world he wants to know about

his activities is a reporter, or to see it show up in the news,

so he really freaks.”

“Exactly!” Tyrone slapped his thigh. “And, if he gets more than

one call, cardiac arrest is nearby. Imagine it. Makes for a good

case of justifiable paranoia.”

Tyrone nodded vigorously. “I’ve been in this game long enough to

see the side effects of blackmail and extortion. The psycholog-

ical effects can be devastating. An inherent distrust of strang-

ers is common. Exaggerated delusions occur in many cases. But

think about this. If we’re right, you begin to distrust every-

one, your closest friends, business associate, even your family.

Suddenly, everyone is a suspect. Distrust runs rampant and you

begin to feel a sense of isolation, aloneness. It feels like

you’re fighting the entire world alone. Solitude can be the

worst punishment.”

The analysis was sound. The far ranging implications had never

occurred to Scott. To him it had been a simple case of extortion

or blackmail using some high tech wizardry. Now, suddenly there

was a human element. The personal pain that made the crime even

that much more sinister.

“Well, we, I mean the FBI, have seven stake outs. It’s a fairly

simple operation. Money drops in public places, wait and pick up

the guy who picks up the money.” Tyrone made it sound so easy.

Scott wondered.

“I bet it isn’t that simple,” Scott challenged.

“No shit, it ain’t,” Tyrone came back.

“So whaddya do?”

“Pay and have another beer.” Tyrone tempered the seriousness of

their conversation.

As Scott got up to go the kitchen he called out, “Hey, I been

thinking.”

“Yeah?” Tyrone yelled.

He popped a Bud and handed it to Tyrone. “Listen, I know this

may be left field, but let’s think it through.” Scott sat behind

his desk and put his feet on top of some books on the desk. He

leaned back and put his hands behind his head. “We’ve been

talking about the front end of this thing, the front lines where

the victims are actually being blackmailed. The kind of stuff

that makes headlines.” Scott smiled devilishly at Ty who made a

significant hand gesture in return. “And now you’re talking

about how to catch them when they pick up the money. Have you

thought of the other side?”

“What other side?” Tyrone was still confused by Scott’s logic.

“Assume for a moment that all this information is really coming

from computers. The CMR. Ok?” Ty grudgingly shrugged his shoul-

ders. “Ok, you said that there are 7 cases across the country.

Dobbs said he knew of more here. Right? Well, who gets the

information?”

Confusion showed on Tyrone’s face. “Gets the information?”

“Yeah, who runs around the country listening in on computers?”

The question had been obvious to Scott. All of sudden Tyrone’s

face lit up.

“You mean the van?”

“Right. How many vans would it take to generate all this?”

Scott pointed at several boxes next to the disorganized shelves.

“Damned if I know!”

“Neither do I, but I’ll make a wild guess and say that there are

quite a few running around. One blew up, or more specifically,

was blown up. You guys have the pieces.”

“Not any more,” Ty said. “They were taken away by CI . Said it

was national security . I was told to stay away from it. Told

you about us Feds.”

“Whatever,” Scott waved away the sidebar. “The point is that if

a whole bunch of these vans were used, that’s not cheap. They

held a lot of very expensive equipment. Why not look for the

vans? They can’t be that hard to find. Maybe you’ll find

your . . . ”

“Holy Christ, Mother Mary and Joseph, why didn’t I think of

that.” Tyrone stood up and aimlessly meandered amongst Scott’s

junk heaps. “We’ve been looking in one direction only. The van

ceased to exist in our minds since CI took it. The Government can

be a royal pain in the ass. The van, of course.”

Just as Scott was going to describe how to find villains without

wasting hundreds of hours scouring data banks, his computer

beeped three times. Scott was shaken from his comfort. “What

the . . .?” He looked at the clock. It was just midnight.

Kirk! Kirk was calling and he totally had forgotten to mention

the computer ransacking to Ty.

“Great! It’s Kirk. I wanted you to meet him.” As Scott leaned

over the keyboard to answer the page, Tyrone looked quizzically

at him.

“Who’s Kirk?”

“This hacker, some kid on the West Coast. He’s taught me a lot.

Good guy. Hope to meet him someday.” Scott pushed a few keys.

The screen came alive.

WTFO

“Hey,” said Tyrone, “that’s what we used to say in the Reserves.”

Gotta Spook here.

SPOOK? YOU KNOW SPOOK?

Who’s Spook?

YOU SAID HE’S WITH YOU

Not Spook, a spook. FBI guy.

FBI? YOU PROMISED.

Don’t worry. Tell him yourself. Who is Spook, anyway?

SPOOK IS A HACKER, ONE OF THE BEST. BEEN ON THE SCENE FOR YEARS.

A FEW PEOPLE CLAIM TO HAVE MET HIM, BUT IT’S ALWAYS A FRIEND OF A

FRIEND OF A FRIEND. HE KEEPS A LOW PROFILE. THE WORD IS SPOOK IS

PLAYING SOME GOOD GAMES RECENTLY. THE FBI?

He’s a friend. He doesn’t know.

Tyrone had come over to the crowded desk to watch the exchange.

“Who is this guy? What don’t I know?”

Kirk, can I tell him? No one knows who you are?

I GUESS SO.

Be back . . .

Scott proceeded to tell Tyrone about the warnings that Kirk

received and then how his computers were destroyed. That the

calling card warned Kirk to stay away from First State Bank. And

how another hacker calling himself Da Vinci on a BBS called

Freedom might be a link. Then Scott admitted that he had been in

on a bank robbery, or at least breaking and entering a bank’s

computer.

Tyrone had enough. “I’m not sure I want to hear anymore. You

have been busy. So what can I do?”

“Tell Kirk what he can do,” Scott said.

“He could probably go to jail. Bank computers, my God! Is that

where you get your stories? You live them and then report them in

the third person? Stories for the inquiring mind.”

“Are you through! I mean, are you through?” Scott sounded per-

turbed.

“It’s true. What does this guy want?”

“Advice. Talk to him. Here.” Scott motioned for Tyrone to sit

at the keyboard.

“What do I do?”

“Just type,” Scott said with exasperation. “You’re as bad as my

mother. Type!” Scott ordered.

This is Ty

Scott pulled Ty’s hands from the keyboard. “A handle, use a

handle, like on a CB!”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot,” Tyrone lied.

This is the FBI

Scott looked on in shock. Tyrone laughed out loud. “He already

knows who I am. So what? I’ve always liked saying that anyway.”

KIRK HERE, FBI, WHERE NO MAN HAS GONE BEFORE

So I hear. Been to any good banks lately?

REPO MAN, WHAT’S UP?

Can’t take a joke?

YEAH. NO PROBLEM.

Listen, I don’t know you from Adam, and you don’t have to talk to

me, but I am curious. Did your computers really get bashed?

TOTALLY, DUDE.

Tyrone pointed his thumb at the computer. “Wise guy, eh?”

“Give him a chance. Generation gap.” Tyrone didn’t take kindly

to references to his age. Sensitive area.

Why?

CAUSE SOMEONE THINKS I KNOW SOMETHING THAT I DON’T

That’s clear.

THANKS

Do you want to make a formal complaint?

WOULD IT DO ANY GOOD?

No.

THEN, NO

You think it was First State?

YES.

Don’t you go around poking into other computers, too?

SURE

So why not someone else?

THEY DIDN’T GET INTO BIG TROUBLE FROM REPO MAN’S ARTICLE?

“He knows who you are?” Tyrone asked.

“Sure. He likes calling me Repo Man for some reason that still

escapes me.

Where else do you go?

THAT WOULD BE TELLING

Gotcha. Well, I guess that’s about it.

PHEW!

<<<<<>>>>>

“I guess you scared him off.” Scott was amused.

“Sorry,” Tyrone said.

“He’ll call back,” Scott waved off the apology. “When the coast

is clear.”

“Fuck off.” Their friendship was returning to the level it once

had been.

“Hey, it’s getting beyond late,” Scott ignored him. “What say we

get together in a few days and sort through some of this.”

“I know, but one thing. Can you get into your computers, at the

paper?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Dobbs said that the other victims had had their stock go down

pretty dramatically. Can you look up stock prices and perform-

ances over the last few months?”

“Yeah, do it all the time.”

“Could you? I want to see if there are any names