Shades of Black: Crime and Mystery Stories by African-American Authors (42 page)

“Give him whatever it takes to buy us a few more minutes,” Loomis replied.

Paula depressed a button. A small box appeared in a corner of her laptop screen. The others would no longer see what she and The Glitch typed to each other.

Deadly Glitch: Where are you?

Trixie: Why?

Deadly Glitch: Curious.

Trixie: In the Sunshine State, Clearwater, near the Gulf of Mexico. Where are you?

Deadly Glitch: In the Windy City. Pardon me. I need to attend to something.

Deadly Glitch typed JAM, which meant Just a Minute.

“Think he suspects something is wrong?” Loomis asked.

“What do you think he's doing?”

Paula shook her head.

“He's probably checking. I'd guess he has Hacker Tracker.”

“That means he can pull up a map and see where this connection is coming from. We're running out of time. You better hurry.”

Deadly Glitch: What's cooking?

Trixie: It could be my hard drive before long.

Deadly Glitch: Somebody in your house?

Trixie: Major unauthorized invasion.

Deadly Glitch: So you went to sleep and left a door unlocked, huh?

Trixie: I'm no guru—I thought I'd had all my ports closed and my firewall was secure, but somebody got in my shit, man, and they're screwing around with me.

Deadly Glitch: You have a secret love, the kind of shy guy that likes to talk dirty—without a response. Don't worry. He'll run out of wind and sail himself into a boring little corner before long. It'll pass.

Trixie: No I can't risk the wait. It's more than that—much more.

Deadly Glitch: For instance?

Trixie: I'm in trouble with the law. I'm on the run.

Deadly Glitch: A fugitive with a computer?

Trixie: It's a laptop; it's all that I have left. The cops tried to pick me up for some pretty big bad checks I wrote.

Deadly Glitch: So be cool and lay low.

Trixie: That's kind of hard dude, not being able to contact my family and friends.

Deadly Glitch: I doubt if they care to track you down for checks.

Trixie: That's just it. I feel like a marked woman. You know I'm not too sure they haven't sent this person to mess with my E-mail. I know somebody's reading it, and making little changes.

Deadly Glitch: You're being paranoid; the police don't work like that. If I intended to hurt someone, I mean really mess with an enemy's mind, I'd get in his pocket. The bank is a very vulnerable institution. So are wives and their secrets.

Loomis touched Paula's shoulder. “You've got to keep him on-line, just a few more minutes. He's so damn close I can smell him.” In a low voice, as though someone on-line could hear him, Loomis instructed the driver to make a right turn at the next corner. The shift in direction confirmed his suspicion. The fading signal gathered strength again. The techie pointed the antenna toward a set of buildings in a single block. They passed right by what looked like the hot spot. The signal faded again.

“Go back,” Loomis ordered.

They turned and doubled back.

“Slow down a little and hang a right at the next corner. OK. Drive, drive. He's here,” Loomis said. The Cellscope left no doubt. The meter jumped like an out of control Geiger counter. The LED pointed toward a building. The Glitch was less than a thousand meters away. “This is it.” Loomis said, “This is the place.”

Loomis beamed with confidence. It was the Crescent, a dilapidated transient hotel on the skid row strip.

“Well, all right then.” Agent Chase chuckled. “That's a real cute little gadget you've got there, Jelly Belly.”

Because neighborhood spectators had seen many drug raids, which they likely assumed this was, they did not draw a crowd of thrill-seekers when several marked cars, transportation, and surveillance vehicles quietly converged on the building minutes later.

The SWAT teams were deployed and ready for action.

Agent Chase spoke into a headset microphone and clicked a switch. “This is Bravo leader to Charlie, testing.”

“Bravo leader, I hear you loud and clear.” Gary Noble, in charge of the designated tactical team going in, responded, flak-jacketed like his troops in bulletproof vest and full gear.

“Take care of the preliminaries.”

Detectives Robert Loomis and Paula Douglas exchange looks. The Glitch had not made a move.

Agent Chase contacted Noble again. “Bravo leader to Charlie. We have to move on this right now, what's the setup?”

“It's an old four-story building with thirty units and a fire escape. No back doors on the ground level and no entrances on the sides. The desk clerk says a computer man checked in yesterday, early afternoon. He's in room two-eleven, but he hasn't seen him today.”

“I guess not, he's on-line right now, Charlie. You got a name?” Agent Chase countered.

“Joseph Giordano from Chicago is the name on the registration, which is probably bullshit. He's not driving, either. A woman dropped him off in a black Navigator. No bags, just a weird-looking phone and a couple of computers. One is a laptop.”

“Secure the perimeters and evacuate the guests on that floor.”

“The building is surrounded,” Noble said. “The second floor is vacant, and my people are ready to go.”

“Outstanding job, Charlie. It's time to rock and roll. Lock and load,” he ordered Noble.

Loomis panicked and grabbed Agent Chase's headset. “What the hell, we want to arrest this guy. He's a cyber thief, not John Dillinger. You're getting ready to go in like a bunch of paratroopers.”

Agent Chase held his hand up like a traffic cop. Any amity that existed between them vanished with the gesture. “Listen up. We both know he has intent to commit a wrongful act. That act could become an extremely aggressive one upon discovery. He's relying on our ignorance. If he makes any kind of move against my boys, I'm going to throw down and take him and his hot-ass modem out.”

Loomis stared at Chase.

“What you people fail to understand, Loomis, is that the FBI has the support of the president, and anybody, anywhere that attempts to obstruct my orders will face serious consequences.” Chase turned to the mike and barked instructions to Noble, “Charlie, move sledgehammers into position.”

Inside the hotel, Gary Noble gave a hand gesture that directed ten SWAT troops to creep up the stairs. They secured the rooms on both sides of two-eleven. Two men positioned themselves direction in front of the door with a heavy black metal ram. The others lined up in perfect formation, crouched on either side.

Across the street in the mobile command post, Loomis questioned Chase.

“Is this necessary?” he asked.

“Yes, is the long and the short of it.” Agent Chase explained. “It's better to bust the hinges off in case he has deadbolts.”

Deadly Glitch: Have the pony soldiers arrived yet?

Trixie: What are you talking about?

Deadly Glitch: You're spinning my wheels.

Trixie: I don't know what you mean.

Deadly Glitch: You know perfectly well what I'm talking about. Take a look out the damn window. What do you see?

Trixie: Palm trees? What are you trying to get at?

Deadly Glitch: Poverty. You see poverty, don't you?

Suddenly Paula was not sure what to type.

Deadly Glitch: Still there? You don't have to answer. I see what you see, and it doesn't look like Clearwater to me. The gig is up, as they say. There's nothing further for either of us to gain by indulging in this boring dialogue—Detective Douglas.

Loomis and Paula were stunned. Paula's fingers were as idle as the blinking cursor. Loomis's knees stiffened. A surge of anxiety flickered on his lips.

Deadly Glitch: You're not in Florida.

Trixie: And you're not in Chicago.

Deadly Glitch: No, actually I'm not.

Trixie: What do you say we have a little face time?

Deadly Glitch: Should I prepare something special?

Trixie: That won't be necessary, Glitch. Besides you don't have the time.

Deadly Glitch: I'm afraid that it's you who has run out of time, detective. I have to run along now. By the way, I planned something very special for Detective Loomis. I'm sure he's standing by. Ta, ta.

“Ten seconds, Charlie.” Chase panted. A surge of tension swept through him as though he were there. “Three, two, one. Go, Charlie, go.” He commanded, giving Paula the nod to let it go. Paula Douglas typed a final sentence.

Trixie: Stand clear of the door; I don't plan on ringing the bell.

Inside there were three loud hits against the door. The men stormed into the room. “Federal agents!” one of them bellowed. There were screams and crashes, and the whole room plunged into pandemonium.

They checked, in the closets, behind the beds, and under the cabinets. Deadly Glitch was gone. Nothing moved in the wide and open space of the room except the little active light on the front of a lone computer.

Once the search was completed, Agent Chase followed up with Officer Gary Noble. “Charlie, did you get him?”

“Nobody is home, Bravo.”

“What? He has to be there, we can see that he's still on-line.”

“Negative, Bravo, there's nothing here but a computer with no monitor that has a little blinking red light, hooked up to a cell phone near the wall.”

“Kiss my ass. Are you sure there is nothing there but a fucking computer hooked up to a telephone?” Agent Chase shouted in a breathless rage. “Go to hell!”

“Don't touch it!” Loomis gasped.

Agent Chase shook his head and looked at Loomis. “Too late, he says he just picked it up a second to look at it.”

“Oh my God.” Loomis pounded his fist on a nearby desktop. “Run now!” Loomis screamed. “Get everyone out of there, now!”

Wide-eyed and baffled, Chase ordered Noble to clear out fast. Inside, grim-faced troops dashed and dove for cover. As the last man cleared the door, there was an explosion.

The scent of smoke, chalk dust, and sizzling electronic components carried as far as the mobile command center across the street where Loomis reacted in a savage rage. “Damn it to hell!”

“How did that bastard manage to get us running after our own tails?” Agent Chase howled.

“He used a roaming number to deceive us.” Loomis explained. “He was doing the same thing we did, but he did it in a different way. Modem numbers and calls to roamer access numbers are like a dead end.”

“Then we never traced him all the way?”

“No, he blocked us. He fooled our equipment into thinking what he wanted us to think.” A pale Loomis shook his head in utter disbelief. “This is bad, very bad. It can only mean one thing.”

Agent Chsae stared intently.

“He has root.”

“He has what?”

“Root access, the ability to take control of the account owned by the system administrator,” Loomis said. “It's like having the master key in a hotel. You can go in any room and do whatever you want. Change passwords, read files, or delete everything on the hard drive. He's the God of the Pond.”

Loomis felt drained as he shook his head and looked out a window. The birds began to chirp, and the last gray hints of a long night gave way to the first hint of morning. He looked up at a cloudy dismal sky. His perception of the distance and the seemingly unlimited depth of the sky was much like being at sea, staring across an endless ocean.

His personal cell phone buzzed. He looked down at a familiar number. It was Judith. She was probably worried.

Loomis had already decided to change his habits. Yes, he had the ability to change. There was nothing he wanted more, and he was going to start by rearranging his priorities. Deadly Glitch had given him the slip,
and he had no intentions of spending another night at work. He was going home to a wife that he was going to make love to, after a long sentence of unaffectionate nights. There was still hope. He had to try. Maybe he would start by taking some flowers with him. It was time to call a truce. He was ready to reconcile with her.

He held the phone to his ear. “Hello.”

“Mr. Loomis,” a deep velvet voice churned a shudder of shock through the essence of Loomis's soul. “It was not my intention to take all of your money, but your wife will need a little spending change.”

“What the fuck.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry, I haven't properly introduced myself. You know me as Deadly Glitch. Nice to put a voice to a name, isn't it?” The Glitch delivered his final declaration of revenge in a chilling tone. “Things change, don't they?” He said with a grin in his voice. “What a difference a day makes. I made her feel appreciated again. She fell right into my plan. A witty exchange of dialogue, a few Internet rendezvous, and presto, like magic, I create a business trip to Detroit and we meet for that definitive act of intimacy.”