Mall Rats
"Well, I think I might have a lead on our informant kid." Georgi said. Tim and Kyong had arrived at the mall a few minutes before. She pointed off, into the mall. "Maybe a kid named Kyle. Apparently he's a big gamer. Very regular at the arcade, dominates at a few games. Drops up to fifty bucks at the pop, more than most kids around here have for spending. Nobody has seen him in a few days ... but he also spends a lot of time at the Electronics Boutique. We might want to check there."
Sam nodded and everybody set off for the other end of the mall. It was a short walk in terms of distance, but dodging children-laden shoppers made it seem interminable. As they closed on the Electronics Boutique, Sam slowed and spoke over his shoulder.
"Tim, Kyong, stay outside of the store. If he's inside and makes a break for it, we need somebody outside to stop him before he mixes in with the crowd. If there's a problem, hopefully you'll spot it before it gets to us, as well. We’ll try the hard play here, see what it gets us."
They picked up the pace, splitting off into two groups as they neared the store. Sam and Georgi entered, looking around inconspicuously and approached the front desk. Sam took the front and pulled his Hoffman Institute ID badge out of a back pocket. He flipped it open quickly as the clerk turned toward them.
“Special Agent Samuel Jameson. This is Georgie Gilmore, department consultant on Computer Crimes … we’d like to ask you a few questions …”
************************
Sam and Kyong sat on a bench a little apart from the Electronics Boutique’s entrance, watching shoppers move to and fro, watching all of the kids approximately the right age. Sam and Georgie had been inside for several minutes already and one shopper in particular was paying more and more attention to them at the front of the store. He’d entered the store, looked around for a while, and was now slinking toward the door, trying to look inconspicuous.
“Bingo.” Tim said and stood up. He walked toward the store.
*****************************
“Man, I never thought Kyle would get into that kind of thing, y’know? I mean, dude, I went to high school with his older brother and stuff. I never hung out with Kyle much or anything, but he seemed like a really good kid. I know where they live and …” The clerk had been spilling his guts for the last three minutes, and was finally getting around to telling Sam and Georgie where to find Kyle. Kyle Wheeler.
“Hey, that’s him now.”
Sam and Georgie whirled. At the edge of the store a short, slightly overweight teenager was turning to run out the door. From the panicked look on his face, it seems he’d heard a little bit of the “official story” Sam had been spinning for the store clerk. He almost tripped over his own feet, but he was bolting before Sam could move. Georgie took off with a yell, but barely avoided grounding herself by tripping over a wiry game display unit. For a moment they thought they were going to lose him, but Kyong and Tim appeared in the doorway, their Hoffmann badge wallets in hand. Tim put a restraining hand on Kyle’s shoulder, firmly, almost knocking the kid backward.
”Kyle?” He asked, authoritatively.
“Y-yes?” Kyle looked up, eyes wide.
“Tim Rosen, Kyle … Special Agent, R.I.A.A.. We know what you’ve been downloading, Kyle. … All of it. Lars asked us to keep an eye on you.” Tim said, flipping his wallet closed.
All the blood left Kyle's face, making all of the blemishes of his complexion stand out in screaming crimson. “Oh God. God, man. I never … I mean … dude, I don’t even LIKE Metallica I just … y’know …” Kyle gibbered.
The agents grabbed him by both shoulders and ushered him out of the store as a group. Kyle seemed like he was going to faint, stumbling a little. The clerk watched them as they went, his eyes like saucers.
”Dude, the RIAA does not play.” He looked very very worried.
************************
Kyle eyed the unmarked van suspiciously as he was led toward it. Tim and Sam said nothing, keeping a firm hand on each of his shoulders as they closed in. The van’s sliding side door opened up and Olie looked out, smiling with one hand on the door frame. In the other he was holding a VERY large-looking shotgun.
“This the kid?” he asked.
Kyle lunged backward in terror, almost breaking free of Tim and Sam in his sudden panic.
“Dudes, don’t kill me! Man, it was just some MP3s! You’re crazy!” He yelled, struggling frantically.
“Shhh. Jeez.” Sam said, trying to stifle the kid. “Put that thing AWAY, Olie.” He hissed.
“Uh, sorry. Was just checkin’ the tools and everything.” Olie said. He scrambled to the back of the van and stored the weapon in one of the disguised gun lockers in the back.
“Listen, Kyle. We’re not really the RIAA.” Georgie said, elbowing Sam and Tim out of the way. “We’re with the Hoffmann Institute. Like you. We’ve been trying to get in contact with you for days.”
“You guys are Hoffmann? Holy crap, dudes, you had me wiggin’.” Kyle said. He had a hurt look on his face and pulled his shirt back into position. “I haven’t been able to contact you because my damn computer is broken. EVERYTHING is broken.”
“How so?” Georgie asked.
“Couple nights ago I was downloading, uh … MP3s and stuff." He flushed guiltily. " ... And I was playing with my Xbox … trying to hack it through the computer to play with my friends VLAN. All of a sudden the light in my room pops, my computer too, and the Xbox and TV die. I was freakin’ out. I thought there was a power outage or something, y’know, and I walk outside and the neighbor’s house down the way is on fire and the lights are totally out wherever I can see. Next morning, though, my Dad’s car doesn’t start and none of my stuff turns on. TOTALLY fried. I’m talking DEAD. And my folks TOTALLY won’t buy me a new one. They think I screwed everything up, with all of my ‘playing with things’.” He sighed. “I’m going nuts. I haven’t logged on in DAYS, I’m sure people think I’m dead or grounded or something. I can’t even play games. And I don’t really get much of an allowance or anything, so it’s going to be MONTHS before I can scrape together enough for ANYTHING, y’know, even just something to get on the net with. At this point I’d use a Mac, if somebody gave it to me.”
Sam keyed in on something.
“Your neighbor’s house was on fire? Where do you live, exactly?” He asked. Kyle told him and Sam nodded. “What’s your neighbor’s name?” He continued.
“Mr. Bauer, I think. I saw some guys moving around in the woods out behind our houses a few nights ago, as well.” Kyle added. “I’d have reported it to the Institute, but, y’know .. no computer.”
Tim rubbed his chin and leaned on the van. “Figure that one needs to be checked out. How’d we miss it?”
“Didn’t bother driving by Bauer’s.” Sam said. He frowned. “The cops are going to be all over this. Bauer’s dead, car blown up, house burned down. We’re not really set up to infiltrate police departments or anything. If we don’t have a friendly on the inside, it’ll take weeks to get any contacts …” He noticed Kyle listening excitedly and shut up.
Georgi motioned Sam over with her head and walked a few feet away.
“Think we can get the kid a computer?” She asked.
“Feeling for him, eh?” Sam asked.
Georgie smiled and shrugged. “I know how it is, y’know? He’s totally no use to us ANYWAY, but he did lose his computer to nanite, um … EMP pulse damage or something like that. While that isn’t our fault, it is sort of … Hoffmannesque.”
Sam nodded and shrugged, pulling out his cell phone. “I’ll see what we can do…”
************************
"It was nice of you to get the kid a computer." Georgie said. They were driving slowly up Bauer's street, trying to look like they weren't too interested in his house. They were still a few houses down.
"Well, the Institute had better reimburse me promptly. I didn't realize those things were so expensive retail." Tim said. He was the only one with a credit card that was willing to put the almost two thousand dollars on it for the system Kyle had asked for. "Kid'll be a good con when he's older. I KNOW he doesn't need all of that stuff for homework."
They grew quiet as they drove past the obvious remains of Dr. Bauer's house. The fire hadn't been too large, apparently. The house was mainly intact, but several windows were blown out and the brick around them was blackened with soot. The whole place had the look of abandonment, the yard unmown for several days. Most obvious, however ...
"No police tape." Kyong pointed out.
"Yea. Very weird." Sam said, but kept driving without changing speeds. "We're going to have to come back later tonight. See what we can find."
And they did. Nightfall came and with it the Agents parked in Kyle's driveway and got out. Pre-arranged, Tim and Olie took nightvision goggles and firearms from the back of the van and moved into the woods. Georgie and Sam got out of the van and walked up the street, looking like any two people out on a walk. Sam had suggested they should look like a COUPLE out on a walk, but Georgie dissuaded him of that idea rather early on with an elbow jab in the ribs. Kyong stayed behind to monitor their radios and be able to pick everyone up if something went wrong ... or call headquarters if something went very wrong.
Olie crept forward through the scrubby pine forest, one foot placed carefully after the other, avoiding every branch, every fallen limb. Each dry leaf was a game piece to be avoided, every brushy patch a challenge to be overcome. He was a fish passing through the water. No ripple, no sound. He was the breeze in the trees, the snow falling on winter grass. His shotgun was an extension of his body, each inch of its length as known to him as his own fingers and toes. Nightvision gave him the advantage of the hunting cat, no light to betray him, no sound. His prey would neither see nor hear him as he ghosted through ...
*crack*
*rustle*
"%&!" Tim hissed, pulling a sleeve free of a thorned vine. Olie sighed to himself and continued on with Tim floundering behind him.
Sam and Georgie could make much better time up the street, so they passed the house and turned around on the street when Olie signaled with two clicks of the open channel that they were nearing the rear of the house.
Olie and Tim had lowered themselves to the ground and were creeping through the detritus of old pine needles toward Bauer's home. Something had moved by the house, piquing Olie's caution. As they moved forward, he could see two figures crouched by the back door of the house, scanning the treeline. They seemed to be wearing night-vision goggles as well. He stopped Tim with a soft touch and finished moving forward on his own, quiet, cat-like. The two men were wearing some sort of dark BDUs, probably black, but it was hard to distinguish in the green world of enhanced light. Each had a web vest and an MP5SD ... silenced submachineguns. Paramilitaries or government agents of some sort. Olie decided a moment later when one turned and he caught sight of an insignia on his vest.
"ATF?" Tim whispered, confused. Olie hadn't heard him sneaking up, which was good. Speaking, however, was bad.
"No. A.F.T. ... shhh." Olie subvocalized. He moved slightly ... slightly too much. He heard a branch snap under his knee. One of the men at the house looked up and scanned the treeline again ... then nudged his partner and began creeping forward.
Olie clicked his radio three times rapidly, then three times more slowly ... and three times again.
"*($@" Sam grumbled. Something was up with Olie and Tim. S.O.S. was going to be their signal for something bad, involving people. "Maybe they've been made. I don't hear shooting, so lets give them a distraction."
Georgie stooped down and grabbed a rock, hefted it in one hand. "Kids are such a pain around here. You hide, you don't much look like a teenager." She said, then walked up obviously to the front of Bauer's house. She looked around, like she was worried about being seen, then threw the rock through one of the unbroken windows of Bauer's house. With the crash of broken glass she was off, running like a scared kid, across the front of the house and away from Sam.
Olie and Tim lay still, breath held. The two AFT agents were creeping closer and closer to their position and eventually the low scrub and thin pines weren't going to be enough to hide them. Suddenly glass crashed from the house and the AFT men whirled, startled. They jogged toward the house, low and quiet, and went in. Olie could see several more individuals moving past one of the windows as he and Tim very carefully backed away from the house and further into the woods. It was a very slow crawl getting back to the van.
"What did you see?" Georgie asked, when they met at the side door.
"Couple guys, fatigues and suppressed MP5s. Insignia said AFT." Olie said. "Dunno what that means. Maybe his mom made his outfit and mixed up ATF, but I don't think so."
"Where's Sam?" Tim asked.
"Uh. Other side of Bauer's house. He feels a little pinned down, doesn't want to get made walking past the house again after all the noise I made." Georgie said.
"What a baby." Olie sighed and stowed his shotgun. "We'll pick him up. Not like they'll make the van any less and it'll take a half hour to circle around to the other end of this half-rural road."
"What I want to know." Tim said. "Is what AFT stands for..."
...
