“The nuns at Saint Teresa's. That's where Lily goes to school these days. She stays there during the week and comes home Friday night. The nuns will look after her, and she will love it. If I have to, I can take the red-eye on the weekends. I don't see a problem. We're at our spring hiatus at the dojo, which means we're just doing maintenance and refresher work. Quon and Chin can handle things. I'm in.”
All eyes turned to Jack Sparrow, the current director of the FBI. “Count me in. I owe Bert big-time. I have a bundle of vacation time due me. I just have to put it through, and that will take at least three days.
“Okay! That means all nine of us are headed for Vegas, as per Bert's request,” Jack said.
A loud bark from under the table caused Jack to correct his mistake. “All
ten
of us are going to Vegas, per Bert's request.” Cyrus barked his thanks for the correction.
“Let's talk and firm it up before we make the call to Bert. We need a plan. Charles, it's what you do best, so let's hear your thoughts,” Jack said.
Charles toyed with his pen, pushing the point in, then out. The clicking sound irritated Fergus, who grabbed the pen and stuck it in his pocket.
“I can't hatch a plan with so little information. I need to know more,” Charles said. “Assuming this concerns the millions of dollars that wash through each and every casino every day, we still need to know what specific thing triggered whatever it was that put Bert on this path. Is it a sudden happening, or is it something that has been going on that he just became aware of? How privy are we going to be to the accounting firm? Or are we depending on Abner to get us that information, or is Bert going to provide it? Maggie's suggestion that the four of them go as a team carries weight. I think it's plausible, as well as credible. What happens in Vegas doesn't
have
to stay in Vegas, not when there are five-star investigative reporters milling about.”
“Anyone else have any questions or comments?” Jack asked.
Harry raised his hand. Startled, Jack just stared at him. Harry never asked questions. “What?” Jack asked.
“If you recall, Jack, my pictures were plastered all over Vegas when we were on that Chinese caper with Wing Ping. I've attended martial arts trials and participated in the ones held in Vegas. Customers won't recognize me, but the heavies will, and the security will for sure. Right now, I'm the number one in the whole country. That carries some publicity. How do you want to play that? Dude me up with a disguise? You know how I hate that crap. Let me go in as a shill? I'm all for going. I just don't want to compromise the mission by being so exposed.”
“Harry's right,” Dennis said boldly.
“You're right, kid. Charles will figure something out. He always does. We are not going anywhere until we have a foolproof plan of action,” Jack said.
“Should we perhaps give some thought to alerting Lizzie Fox and Cosmo Cricket?” Maggie asked. “They're Nevada residents, and Cosmo is the lead attorney for the Nevada Gaming Control Board.”
“Not just yet, Maggie. If Bert wanted to involve Cosmo and Lizzie, he wouldn't have contacted me . . . us. He would have contacted them. That tells me we need to keep a lid on this, even from Cosmo,” Charles said.
“I can assign some extra agents to our Vegas field office,” Jack Sparrow volunteered. “I have to tell you all that Vegas security is ten times better than the security they have for the White House, what with those Secret Service guys who keep getting into one sort of trouble or other. To say it's top-notch would be an understatement. As much as I hate to admit itâand Bert and I have been around and around the bush on thisâhis people are better than my best-trained agents. So if Bert has some bad apples in his crew, those bad apples know what they're doing. If any of you are thinking this is going to be a walk in the park, adjust your thinking right now.”
The table went silent when Sparrow had finished speaking. It was Dennis who finally broke the ice by saying, “I think we're up to the challenge!”
“Well said, kid, well said,” Ted announced, clapping the young multimillionaire reporter on the back.
Jack reached for the encrypted phone. “Anything else before I place the call?” No one said a word.
“No? Okay. Here we go, then! The next voice you will hear will be that of Bert Navarro, coming to you all the way from Macau, China.”
Chapter 2
“I
f we're sure we're all okay with this, then here we go,” Jack said, hitting the number two on his encrypted phone. He turned up the volume and hit the
SPEAKER
mode. The short burst of sound was as loud as a buzz saw on a still morning in the quiet room.
Bert clicked on after two rings. “I'm listening,” he said curtly.
“Jack here, Bert. We ran it up the flagpole and everyone saluted. That means we're all here. We're good to go. Abner is going to drive cross-country, because he can't fly. Dennis will allow us to use his Gulfstream, so we can fly out at a moment's notice. Charles is working on a plan. That's our end of things. Oh, there is one thing, before I forget. Notify Dixson Kelly that I'll be bringing Cyrus, and we'll say he's a service dog. I don't want to have to jump through hoops when I get there. It's a game changer, Bert. If Cyrus doesn't go, we don't go.”
“Not a problem. I'll take care of it. When do you think the rest of you can get under way?”
Jack looked around at the others. Almost as one, they shrugged, which meant they could go at a moment's notice or they could wait until Charles came up with a plan. If necessary, they could wait three days, until Jack Sparrow could begin taking his vacation days.
“It's Charles, Bert. To be on the safe side, I'd say we'll be good to fly out of here in three days, give or take a few hours. Abner will probably arrive before we do if he leaves today, even though he's driving cross-country. From what Jack has told us, this is not a time-sensitive matter, which means we will use the coming days to formulate a plan and, of course, run it by you for your approval before we commit to it. Will that work for you?”
“It will. Okay, let's get to it. Like I said earlier, I have a lot of time on my hands over here and no social life at all to speak of, so I've been running numbers, checking over bank statements, talking to the accounting firm, reading reports, doing everything I always do when I'm at Babylon, but with a little more thoroughness. I can't explain what it was or what triggered something in my head, but once I started the review, I knew in my gut something was
off
. I use the word âoff' because I am not sure something is
wrong
. My gut is telling me yes, something is very wrong. Gut instincts in this business are just as credible as seeing something in black and white.
“When I took over Babylon nine years ago, everything was in perfect order. With the changing of the guard, I hired on a new five-star accounting firm and a new legal team. I wanted to start clean and fresh. The lawyers and accountants told me that we were in good shape, and that the previous guys had done a good job. I had no cause to doubt any of that, and I still don't doubt it. Whatever is at play here is insidious. I do not use that word loosely.
“I think someone is tapping into or hacking our accounts. I think . . . Now, bear with me while I try to explain my thoughts, because right now I cannot prove anything. Let's just say someone like Abner, who excels at hacking, manages to get into the account and alters the deposit by, let's just say by thirty-three dollars or even one hundred thirty-three dollars. Who is going to pay attention to revenue being down thirty-three dollars or one hundred thirty-three dollars? But if the next day revenue is down, say, one hundred nineteen dollars, no one is going to pay attention to a loss of one hundred nineteen dollars. Then maybe nothing for a few days, and everything is back to normal, no glitches, no penny shortages.
“And then it starts all over again, with small amounts for maybe a total of five days a week, to the tune of let's just say five hundred thirty-two dollars for the week. It could be more, or it could be less. Multiply that by four, and you have two thousand one hundred twenty-eight dollars. Certainly not a fortune by Vegas standards, where the casinos operate in the millions every day of the year. Multiply that two thousand one hundred twenty-eight dollars by twelve, and you have a tidy little amount of twenty-five thousand five hundred thirty-six dollars. Remember now, these are just rough numbers. If this has been going on for the past nine years, the amount would be somewhere around or close to two hundred thirty thousand dollars for that time period. Give or take a few thousand. Who knows how long it has been going on, or if I'm even right. No one caught it, because the amounts were so small.
“As I said, the industry deals in millions daily, and this is pennies compared to that. In the scheme of things, we can afford to lose that much and not blink an eye. Since it has gone unnoticed, that should tell us all something. If I'm right, and I'm not saying I am, this is one very clever son of a bitch we're dealing with here. It would have to be someone who has an in to this business, and no, it is not Dixson Kelly. He simply doesn't have the stones to pull off something like that. Could you, Abner, with all your expertise, do what I've just described?”
Abner looked suddenly like a deer caught in the headlights. “As much as I hate to admit it, the answer is no.”
“I realize you travel in . . . um . . . different circles, have an eclectic set of friends, fellow hackers, and I mean no offense here by saying that, but is there anyone you know who could pull something like this off?”
Abner's brain raced. He didn't trust himself to speak and just shook his head before he realized Bert couldn't see him shaking his head. “No!” he blurted.
“Well, then, it's your job to check things out once you get to Vegas, nose around, see what the inside information is, if any. Pay out some serious money. I'll reimburse you. Shake the tree. Hard. Something might fall out.”
“Yeah, sure,” Abner said, his eyes suddenly going glassy.
Jack wondered if anyone but he was picking up on Abner's offbeat behavior. He casually looked around, and sure enough, Maggie and Ted looked worried. Dennis was openly staring at the hacker, but thankfully, no one said anything. They could figure out later what, if anything, the hacker's strange behavior meant.
“Okay, folks, now let me get to the rest of the story here. In case you don't know it, there are roughly one hundred seventy casinos in Las Vegas. Granted all of them are not of the same caliber as Babylon, Wynn, Bellagio, and the rest of the big ones, but they still rake in millions every day. Otherwise, they wouldn't be in business. Now, having said that, take that number two hundred thirty thousand dollars and multiple it by one hundred seventy and tell me what you get.”
“A little over thirty-nine million dollars,” Dennis chirped.
“But you said all the casinos are not on par with Babylon, so the amounts would not be the same for all casinos, and this is over a nine-year period,” Fergus said as he pressed digits on the calculator in his hand.
“You're right, Fergus. Regardless if it's twenty million dollars or only ten million dollars, that's a lot of money to be skimming off the casinos. And we do not know how long it's been going on. I used conservative numbers when I did my calculations. The truth is a loss of only five hundred dollars wouldn't raise any eyebrows at any of the casinos. It would be just chalked up to a miscount, a clerical error. I'm talking daily here.”
“Is there a way to prove your theory? Forensic accountants, that kind of thing?” Charles asked. Then he looked at Abner, who just shrugged.
“I suppose, but I don't want to rock any boats. I believe I have the best of the best. Vegas, as you all know, is a closed shop. We like to take care of our own business, even when we're paying and jumping through hoops for people to take care of said business. If this were to get out, every Tom, Dick, and Harry who can add two numbers will try to take a crack at us. The bottom line is that to have even one small iota of this getting out is not good for business. In fact, it could be a disaster.”
“I see your point,” Charles said. “Are you thinking along the lines of the time the MIT graduate students hit the casinos with their card reading?”
“No! That was child's play compared to this. This is big-time. Doesn't get any bigger or more intricate than this. This is someone or some group that is homegrown, that lives and breathes hacking, and carries it to a whole new level. They're an underground operation unto themselves. That's why I thought Abner could get us on the inside track, and we'll take it from there. You guys up to this? Or should I just bide my time until the girls come off the mission they're on? I mean, I've waited this long, so a few more months isn't going to make that much of a difference.”
“That's a real low blow coming from you, Bert,” Esposito barked unhappily.
“I didn't mean it that way. This is some pretty big stuff. It could be dangerous. The girls are fearless. We all know that. I just want to be sure you guys are up to this.”
“We are,” Harry snapped out of the blue.
Bert had his answer, and that was the end of
that
.
The call ended. Fingers drummed on the tabletop. Cyrus barked into the silence. Dennis got up and headed to the coffeemaker.
Abner yawned and stood up. He waved and said, “I'll see you in Vegas.”
The others waved good-bye.
“What's this all mean?” Dennis asked. “Are we pinning all our hopes on Abner coming up with some clown smart enough to rip off one hundred seventy casinos nine years straight and not get caught?”
“Kind of looks that way at the moment,” Ted said. “I repeat, at the moment.”
Jack homed in on Charles. “What do you need us to do, Charles?”
“Get in touch with Avery Snowden while Fergus and I try to come up with something. If Avery has committed to the girls, then he is useless to us, and we're on our own. If that turns out to be the case, ask him if he can put us in touch with the top hackers. I'm sure he knows a few. If the girls haven't laid out any up-front monies to Avery, I can wire a down payment to his account the moment he agrees to sign on. As we all know, Avery goes where the money is. Even though his first loyalty is to me, he still likes working for the girls. If he doesn't come on board or recommend anyone, we're going to have to rely solely on Abner.”
Jack remembered the strange look on Abner's face and wondered how that was all going to work out as he tapped in the numbers on his cell. Snowden picked up on the second ring. Jack concisely stated his business and within three minutes had his deal locked down. Two minutes after that, money was flying through cyber land to the Antilles and Snowden's account. A minute after that, Snowden confirmed they would meet up at the Tiki Bar at Babylon in three days. He ended the conversation with, “Yes, I know a few people known in the business for helping themselves to other people's money.”
“Done!” Jack shouted to the room at large.
Cyrus barked to back up his master's announcement.
* * *
All the way back to the loft he shared with his wife, Isabelle, Abner's mind raced as he tried to make sense of everything he'd just heard in the BOLO Building. His mind was still racing as he threw clothes into two duffel bags. Not knowing how long he'd be gone, he made sure that all his appliances were unplugged, that leftover food in the refrigerator went into the garbage disposal, that trash was taken out to the Dumpster, and that the alarm was set. At the last minute before he exited the loft, he made sure that he had his credit cards; his driver's license; his car registration; cash; his special gold shield; an exclusive cell phone that only Isabelle had the number to; his regular cell phone, with its hundreds of apps; and his special encrypted cell phone, compliments of Avery Snowden.
Once inside his Range Rover, he clicked on his GPS, punched in the address, then sat back to send off a mass set of texts from his address book. He asked that all recipients call him on his cell phone and, with a twinge, used his and Isabelle's private number. He explained that he was driving cross-country and could not e-mail or text for the next several days, but he could talk hands free with his Bluetooth earbud. Satisfied that he'd done all he could for the moment, Abner put the turbocharged Rover into gear and drove out of the underground garage.
Hour after hour, mile after mile raced by as Abner kept playing and replaying in his mind the two hours he'd spent in the BOLO Building with the guys. He tried everything he could think of to relax, to get rid of the knots and the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't sure, but he rather thought he'd kept his cool when the subject of supreme hackers had come up. Just as Harry had been the number two martial arts expert until the nominal number one was killed at an old rival's command, he, Abner Tookus, had been . . .
was
the number two supreme hacker, right after RCHood, who had taught him everything he knew and who continued to be his mentor. RCHood was the only one who could do what Bert and the guys thought had been done. Not only was he, in Abner's opinion, the only one, but RCHood could probably do it with his eyes closed and one hand behind his back. That was how good he was.
Loyalty. Where did it lie? With the boys or with RCHood? He was where he was on the ladder of life because of RC, as he thought of him. Without his tutelage, he wouldn't be the real-estate mogul that he was, not that he advertised that fact, but he did own millions of dollars' worth of prime oceanfront property. He would never have met Isabelle and married her. He wouldn't be part of the sisters and brothers whom he admired so much. For the first time in his life he had normal friends, friends who were human, face-to-face friends, not faceless letters on a keyboard. Yes, yes, he had hundreds, thousands of male and female novice hackers as friends, because they all belonged to the same underground organizations. They cared about each other, but in a very different way. Any one of them would drop what they were doing if he asked for their help. That was loyalty, too. Where did he draw the line? And wherever he drew it, which side of the line did he come down on?