“They,” Token corrects my pronoun with a grin. “Get with the program. If they’re not a male or female, they’re a they.”
“Token.” I put a bite of menace into my growl.
“Ok.” As Token’s face falls, I start to realise his messing around was a delaying tactic. “He’s broken the code for me.”
Not pointing out he’s chosen a particular pronoun, I widen my eyes.
“Hacked straight into my system as though it was child’s play.” Token thumps his hand down on his desk, glaring at his monitor as if the equipment had betrayed him.
I breathe in deeply, then exhale a loud breath. No one really knows what my skills are, or were, they’re well past their sell by date. Snake had asked basic questions, but only to enable him to discount I’d any connection with law enforcement. While I was prospecting, I was instructed to fetch, carry, clean, dig holes and bury bodies, no questions asked, and none directed toward me. By the time I’d earned my patch, the brothers knew everything about me they needed to know—that they could trust me to have their backs. Many members have pasts they want left buried. I wasn’t unusual in that. Snake knew I’d fucked up my business but hadn’t cared to ask what business that was.
Token, though, he’s guessed my background if not how I was involved, purely due to my interest in his security system and the privacy and antivirus software he uses. I’ve been impressed to be honest. So it’s worrying as fuck that someone could break in so easily.
“You sure it’s our end?” I query. “Cad’s got the same info. Or the email—”
“Encrypted.” He gives me a look akin to that which he’d used had I given him instruction on how to boil water. “Anything between Cad and me is sent well protected. And yes, it’s us. He’s actually circled some of the info while I was watching. Oh, and he added this. I was able to screen shot it. Whenever he posts something it disappears within seconds.” He turns one of the monitors toward me, the message states:
Don’t be too concerned. Wecanget into Fort Knox.
I bark an incredulous laugh. “I presume he means virtually and not in reality?”
Token shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Right now, I wouldn’t be too sure.”
“Two things I want from you.” I pull at my forefinger. “First, if he helped break the code, what was the result? And two,” I pull at my second finger, “if he, she or they are so fuckin’ brilliant, why aren’t they doing this themselves?”
“I’m pretty certain I can work it out,” he replies. “It’s coordinates, but one digit missing from both the longitude and latitude. See?” He points to his screen. “That’s what’s circled – the gap. Why it’s missing don’t ask me, but old Phil didn’t want to make it easy.”
I start to suggest, “You can—”
Another roll of his eyes. “I’ve already got a program running to go through all the permutations and check what makes sense. I presume if there is a tunnel, that this could be the start and end points?” When I nod, he continues, “As to your second question, why us? Maybe we were just closest? Maybe he is in Timbuktu and nowhere near us. Or maybe he likes seeing us squirm and do his work for him.”
I lean toward the latter myself. If he/she/it or they were so fucking clever, why weren’t they doing more to help? “Can you make contact with him?”
Token’s head moves left then right. “Wish I fuckin’ could.”
“You get the feeling he could help more?”
Token grimaces then admits, “Put it this way, I got a feeling he can crack the code and find out the locations faster than me.”
I lean back my head, rolling it on my neck. “Which suggests he’s not close. But what’s the benefit to him, helping us out?”
Token looks annoyed. “He’s making me feel stupid.” His hand thumps down on the desk, making the monitors jump. “Maybe he knows it’s dangerous and doesn’t like taking risks. Or it could be a trap and he’s setting us up. He could already have the coordinates; we turn up and walk straight into the arms of the feds.”
“Could it be Alder himself?” I wonder aloud.
He’s quiet for a moment, sifting through the facts. “Alder could employ an expert but what’s the point? He’d know where his fuckin’ tunnel starts and ends. He could have sent us the information in far easier ways.”
“True,” I agree. “Unless he’s playing an elaborate game. He wants Patsy, and I suspect he’d have tried to take her if he knew where she was. And we wouldn’t have this information if she hadn’t remembered the safe deposit box. So we discount Alder. And this fucker isn’t a loner, he said ‘we’, which suggests he’s working with someone else, maybe even a team.”
His eyes come to meet mine. “Still feel I’m letting you down, Prez.”
“Nah. In no way are you letting me down, Token. You don’t know what setup this guy or people have. You’re limited as to what you can use.” My voice is firm, willing him to believe me. “If someone’s providing info that’s useful, use it. The only thing that concerns me is locking our systems down so he can’t fuckin’ get in in the first place.”
“Firewalls be damned, Prez, I don’t trust them now. I already moved the club stuff onto a separate server, Prez. One that’s not connected to the internet,” he reminds me.
I’m not surprised it’s the first thing he’s done. I would have too.
“And there’s no way you can start a two-way dialogue? I feel we’re being drip fed pieces.” I can understand Token’s frustration. It’s as though we’re being toyed with. If there’s someone out there two steps ahead of us, I’d like to save time and talk to them.
