The Roman Gambit Pt. 02

As soon as I walked into range it would handshake whatever router the target was using. It would then transfer the man-in-the-middle code, underneath the security sandbox. Once I got my little pet on the target's router, his system was mine.

Finally, I was planning on planting a refinement, of my personal version of the Flame virus in his boot sector. It would make his computer my little window into his life. That payload is too big to deliver as a comm exploit. I would do that "hands on" if I could get at his system. I knew I could count on Mel to distract him.

The guy lived in a rat-hole off the Rue Rene Binet near the rail yards. It was a typical place in the 18th meaning disreputable. The outside looked like it had once been a local patisserie. They had boarded up the windows.

The character I was playing would not stand on the street knocking on the door. So as soon as the cab dropped us off, I called his number. When he answered I ripped into him for not waiting for us, on the street in front of his place. He had clearly bought my persona, because his head popped out of the door as soon as I finished my tirade. I walked briskly up to him and shouldered past into his "shop."

It was actually a residence of sorts. It had chairs a table, a moth-eaten old couch and a back room that was probably where they once kept the stock. The place smelled like a large animal had been hibernating there, but I expected that.

I walked assertively around the room like I was looking for a not too revolting place to sit. It was a completely arrogant move since I was in essence walking around the place like I owned it.

I stopped and looked the man over. He was like something out of central casting for bottom-feeding Parisian thugs. He was perhaps my height or shorter, and probably weighed about the same as my 130 pounds. He was thin, with a sunken-in chest and a scrawny chicken-neck.

His prominent French nose sat between two close set beady little eyes. The rodent analogy was too obvious. He also had a Gauloises dangling from one lip. He was such an extreme caricature that I almost laughed out loud.

I plopped down on the couch looking completely disgusted. I said without any of the usual pleasantries, "Where are they? Show them to me."

He said, "Madam, I need some proof of who you are before I can do that." I got the impression that he had a gun stashed behind the pile of old newspapers and magazines next to him.

I said angrily, "Proof? You need PROOF of WHO I AM? You KNOW who I am. What I need to know is who YOU are."

He said with some menace, "Show me something that proves that you are Helen Larson."

I huffily dragged out a passport and handed it to him with one hand, while shoving the Bluetooth booster into the cushions of the couch with the other.

That would give me a good wireless link to the miniaturized external receiver that I had placed in the debris next to the building. The receiver was hardened inside what would look like a brick and it would capture, process, and bounce every electronic signal that came in and out of that residence for a 72-hour window.

Meanwhile, the equipment inside my messenger bag had already pinged and acquired his router and was beginning to establish the link to the external receiver for the bounce. I had been scattering my bugs, as I stomped around his place. They were all active and recording.

I make the bugs myself. They are works of art. They look so much like dead flies and pill bugs that the worst that would happen would be that my target might sweep them up and throw them away. Somehow, I had the feeling that this guy wasn't a clean freak.

He looked at my passport and that seemed to satisfy him. If I had been able to see what my little pets had already acquired, I would know that he had checked me out thoroughly and confirmed that I was as rich as I was acting.

*****

At best, Antoine was a marginal character in the Parisian underworld. He was born and raised in the slums of Marseilles and he had made his way up to the big City for no other reason than to escape the debts that he had run up with some very bad people.

He had kicked the cocaine habit, but he was still a drab, grey specimen of a man, living on the fringes of the criminal world. Then he had the great good fortune to run into his friend Eddie.

Eddie had been his partner in the days when they were working pickpocketing and purse snatchings around the Gare De Marseille-Saint-Charles. Eddie had a friend who knew a guy who needed an inconspicuous fence in Paris. Given Antoine's experience in the stolen cell phone racket, he was the first guy who Eddie had thought of.

The phone contact had told him to meet them at le Marché Dejean, which was not far from where he lived. As instructed, he had shown up at the designated spot wearing a New York Yankees baseball hat.

The hat was knocked off Antoine's head, as they dropped the bag over it and loaded him into what he supposed was a van. Given the general ambience of that marketplace a daytime kidnapping was unremarkable.

He rode for more than an hour and was deposited at a ferme in god-knows-where. Standing in the farmyard were four really big, tough looking guys who surrounded an older and extremely rich and sophisticated looking man.

The man said, "Antoine Duchamp?"

Antoine said, "Oui."

The man said, "My name does not matter to you. But I need a nonentity to serve as a contact for some things I anticipate selling. That man must be as unremarkable as possible and willing to participate in a criminal enterprise."

Antoine considered for a second and said, "That certainly describes me."

The man gave Antoine a phone. He said, "People will call this number and attempt to buy the things I am selling. When they do you may negotiate the sale. But you may not provide a hint as to what you have or where you got it. Is that clear?"

It sounded too easy. Antoine said, "What am I selling and what do I get for it?"

The man said, "You do not need to know what you are selling. All you need to know is that it is very old and rare, and that you must get at least 3 million U.S. dollars in the sale. If you do that, I will give you a one percent commission."

Antoine did the math. He thought, "Mon Dieu that is a fortune!" But he said, "two percent."

The man actually smiled and said, "I like that attitude, okay two percent."

Antoine wished he had said five percent, but it was too late now since the gorillas were whisking him back into the van. As they were putting the headbag back on him the stranger said, "We will deliver a strong box with the items. Keep them safe on your life."

The box showed up later that day. It contained beautiful things. Then a week and a half later the phone rang, and an obnoxious woman began making demands.

*****

I said pissed off, "Can we get down to business now?! Where are the items?!" My act had clearly worked. He said, "I only have a few things here Mademoiselle. You must understand that I can't keep anything this valuable where it can be easily taken. I can show you those."

I said as brusquely and haughtily as possible, "Where are they?" and jumped to my feet and unceremoniously walked into the other room. It was as neat and clean as the first room, meaning it looked like a den.

There were work benches and some robust metal chests lying around. The lighting was much better. He followed me tut-tutting as I walked around condescendingly picking things up and looking at them, while adding a couple of new items to his dead bug collection.

He said, "They are right here Mademoiselle." and he opened one of the lock boxes. Inside were two pieces of the finest-looking silver plate I have ever seen. The workmanship and detail of the designs was indescribably rich. There were also three silver drinking cups of the same quality. At the bottom of the chest was a big pile of gold Aureuses.

I reached in without asking and picked up one of them. The VAR stamp was clearly etched on the face of the coin. Then I reached over and picked up one of the cups. It was exquisite. There were nymphs and satyrs in clear relief playing around the edges. I looked on the bottom and the VAR was there too. It was definitely Varus's mark.

I turned toward him and said without preamble, "three million." He looked startled and then crafty. He said, "ten million." I said, "four million and not a penny more you jackal."

He said, "Five million."

I said, "Okay, four and a half million it is then." I figured if he had cash on the barrelhead, he would be willing to open up about what he really had.

I said, "Give me a routing number." He walked over to an open laptop. He read a long number sequence to me, which I was typing into a tablet from my big Hermes bag. When he finished, I did the necessary transfer and hit send.

The amount must have appeared a few seconds later, because he got a look of almost beatific satisfaction on his face. I said with impatience in my voice like I had just bought a baguette and now I wanted to see the rolls, "Show me the rest."

He walked me over to the laptop. I had already palmed my memory stick. He did some clicking and up popped a series of pictures. They were an incredible king's ransom of beautiful things, plate, savage looking jewelry with incredible gems, and mountains of gold Aurii and silver Denarii.

I actually gasped. I said, "Where can I get this?"

He said, "Regrettably I cannot tell you Mademoiselle. But if you are interested in more items, I can convey your request."

I said brusquely, "Would two hundred million buy all of this?"

He said, "That would not even come close to starting negotiations Mademoiselle."

I said, "Put me in touch with the owner of this and I will make him happy."

He actually laughed at me. I think he got the double entendre and given the character I was playing I really didn't blame him.

He said, "I cannot do that either Mademoiselle."

I said, "Can you get more of these goods so I can see them."

He said, "Certainly, are you interested in plate, or the coins?"

I said, "Whatever."

At that point Mel, who had been trailing around with me, decided that she was in love. She sidled up next to the smelly little rat and literally draped herself around his neck. She said, "I really like rich guys."

She took one of his hands and placed it on her magnificent left breast and moved it around with hers. He looked startled, then lustful, then wary. That entire gamut of emotions took maybe 10 seconds, which was four more than I needed to drop my little pet on his computer.

I now owned him body and soul. Mel moaned lustfully, not releasing his hand. The guy actually looked more frightened than horny. He was not used to women of Mel's caliber throwing themselves at him. So, he was immediately suspicious. The terror looked like it was induced by external parties, not us.

I thought, "Good! That confirms it." I had everything I had come for except the strong box. Since I had just transferred four and a half million of the Organization's money to get it, I was not leaving it. So, I abruptly picked it up and we walked out the door. Mel hailed a cab and we rode back to the Lutetia.

I had my purchase secured in the hotel's safe and called Sir Alex to have it picked up. Sir Alex asked what I had bought, and I told him.

He said, "That is priceless, how much did you spend?" I told him four and a half million.

He said, "If it is anything like the Hildesheim treasure you made an excellent bargain my dear."

I said, "It is all waiting for you in the Hotel safe." Then I went upstairs to see what I could see.

*****

Antoine called the contact number the minute the two women got into their cab. He didn't bother with the pleasantries. He said, "They bought everything, and they want to see more."

The voice on the other end said, "Excellent, how much did you get?"

Antoine said, "Four million." He had already transferred the other half million to his own Cayman account.

The voice on the other end of the phone said, "People who try to cheat me finish their days in the Seine with their throat cut and their tongue pulled out through the incision."

Antoine said, "Four and a half. The rest will be restored."

The voice said direly, "Don't let it happen again."

Antoine said, "When can I get more product?"

The voice said, "We can get you a strongbox full of gold and silver coins by day after tomorrow. Do not do anything in the meantime."

Antoine was a little disappointed since he was planning on moving someplace where he could enjoy the little Indian girl. He knew that the beautiful one was too far out of his league no matter how good he was in bed.

He said, "They want to know where I am getting this. Can you tell me that? I won't pass it on. But I'm curious myself."

The voice on the other end said, "Absolutely NOT but I can send you more pictures of the treasure for them to examine."

As he said it, a message appeared in Antoine's in-box with three more pictures attached. They showed piles of boxes lying in some kind of concrete walled facility. The boxes that were open were filled with gold and silver plate, cups and snowdrifts of coins. Antoine was impressed.

He said, "I will send you an encrypted message with the account information in it."

The voice said, "You don't need to. We can see it. Then the man added. I want you to stay as far down in your burrow as you can until we finish. Once we do you are going to be a rich man.

*****

When we got back to my suite I listened to the entire conversation. There was nothing new in the phone exchange. But I now had an IP.

The IP was simple enough to trace. One of the advantages that a skilled hacker has is that it's easy to find out anything virtual that you want to know. The message was encrypted but the packet information was there for me to read. It went to a proxy server in Sunnyvale California and I used Traceroute to follow the hops.

There were 14 before I got the longitude and latitude of Prague. I thought to myself, "So, our friend is in the Czech Republic and he is smarter than his contact here."

I called my rat friend and said as peremptorily as possible, "I like what I have, and I want more. But I am not buying anything else until I talk to your boss. Tell him that he can either meet with me, or I will use all of my resources to find him."

I added with menace in my voice, "Tell him I want to confirm that your network is more solid than one lonely snake living in a tenement. If he meets with me, I'll back off."

He spluttered, "That is impossible!!"

I said with warning in my voice, "You don't want to try me."

He caved again. He said, "I will talk with him, but I doubt he will meet."

I said, "Tell him he can't hide in Prague forever."

I knew THAT would get his mysterious contact's knickers in a knot. I also knew that it would freak out the weasel, since he probably didn't know where his boss was located either.

I really hadn't wanted to tip my rat friend that I owned his internet connection. But I thought that that information might get the ball rolling. It was earnest money proof that I had more at my disposal than my bank account and big tits.

And of course, if the rodent did a bug sweep all he was going to find were my little pets. I still had a window into his life through his laptop. The panicked phone call went out 15 seconds after I hung up. He said, "She says you are in Prague. Are you in Prague?"

The voice on the other end actually sounded disturbed. He said, "How did she find THAT out. If you've talked, you're a dead-man."

My guy said, "She must have hacked my internet connection. I won't use the internet from now on just to be safe." I knew that was the least of his problems.

The voice on the other end said, "You're an idiot. What does she want?"

He said, "She wants to meet with you personally. Can't you just meet with her to reassure her that we are not running some sort of scam?"

The voice on the other end said, "What is she like? Is she by herself or do you think she is part of a larger organization? "

My guy said, "She is just a silly, entitled girl with more money than brains; very rude and obnoxious."

The voice said, "She must be able to afford a powerful hacking group to be able to do the things she has done so far." That made me smile since it was just little old me.

My guy said, "She is way too naive and mindless to be involved with something like the CIA; if that's what you're thinking. She probably found out about our products at a cocktail party. She didn't even know that I had her covered with a gun all of the time she was here"

The voice on the other hand said, "Do you think she's worth meeting with?"

My guy said, "She has a lot more money to spend. She talked about two hundred million dollars."

He added trying to sound reasonable, "I can see where she would want to confirm our bona-fides for that amount of money. One meeting is all she is asking for."

The voice on the other end said, "Tell her that I will meet her for dinner at 9:00 at Le Bristol tomorrow night."

He added, "Tell her that I will absolutely not tolerate any surveillance tricks and that I will know if she does.

Then he said, "Tell her that the only thing we will discuss is what I have to offer and how we can arrange for her to pay for it. There will be no other conversation. Do you understand that?"

My guy said, "Certainement!" and the connection was abruptly broken.

Then he dialed me. He said, "My contact will meet with you at 9:00 tomorrow at Le Bristol for dinner. You will just meet and talk about how you can acquire more of what we have to sell. If you attempt any form of surveillance, or if the authorities show up, it will be a very sad and unfortunate day for you."

I said, still in character, "I don't care what you people think you can do. I will be there as arranged and why would you suppose that I would be concerned about any aspect of your miserable lives?"

I added, "All I want is what you have to offer and if your insignificant little boss satisfies me that what he has is authentic we will have a nice meal together." Then I hung up on him.

Ten seconds later the call went to his contact in Prague. My guy said, "It's arranged but I have to warn you that she is an arrogant little shit."

The voice on the other end said, "I know how to deal with arrogant little shits, and I might just do that after we conduct our business."

I contacted Sir Alex and told him that we had worked our way to the next level and that I would keep him posted after we met. Meanwhile, Mel and I had a single girl's night in Paris to plan.

*****

Mel had watched her friend masterfully work her way up the food chain. It was a tour-de-force of gamesmanship that only a person with Hilley Larson's intelligence and force of character could pull off.

Mel knew that she could have accomplished the same thing, but it would have taken much longer and involved a lot of personal contact. It was just a difference in the two women's styles and Mel knew that there were times when Hilley's rapier-like mind was more effective than Mel's mesmerizing visceral approach.

So, they had a contact. Hilley said, "I will work this by myself tomorrow because I don't want you to be in danger."

Mel was distraught. She said, "But if it's dangerous I want to be there with you."

Hilley said, "Oh you are going to help me alright. I want you to sit somewhere and observe. I'll be too busy with the sword play to watch what is going on around us." Mel glowed with pride.

In the meantime, there was the evening to consider and Hilly wanted to spend it clubbing. It was still only 4:00 in the afternoon and the clubs wouldn't open for another five hours. So Hilley suggested a trip to Chanel over in the 8th to pick up some pret-a-portiere dresses for the evening. The cab took them across the Seine to the shop on Rue Cambon.