Bitcoin Bandits

by Chris Kale

  His hand moved into his pocket and pulled his cell from it. He looked at it to find no new messages from her. He did, however, find a handful of missed calls from Wyatt, along with texts telling him to call him immediately. The pain in his head, throat, and stomach could have deterred him from calling Wyatt back, but it didn’t. Wyatt answered immediately.

  “Are you OK?” Wyatt asked.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” Thomas rubbed his forehead with his free hand, he could feel the dried sweat residue on his fingers.

  “Good,” Wyatt said, “now you’re done. You’re coming back home. You understand me? There’s no missing flights this time. It's over.”

  Thomas didn’t answer, he was too lost in his own thoughts. I’m so close. We are so close. That drive might be back at the house. I’ve got to get back there.

  “Don’t make me put you under arrest and send you back,” Wyatt said. “That wouldn’t look good for your resume.”

  “It might,” he replied without thinking. “That would just mean I’m dedicated to my work.”

  “This isn’t a joke,” Wyatt said with his voice raised. “You were sent over there to find the money, not end up in a serial killer’s basement, almost choked to death. This is serious. You almost killed a man—even if he was guilty.”

  Almost?

  “You’re going to be questioned by the local police,” he said. “Tell them what you need to, and then you’re going to be questioned here as well. Do whatever you have to over there, but when you get back I need the real answers.”

  I can’t tell anyone about Freyja. Everything else is just details. . .

  “Thomas,” Wyatt said then with his voice calm, “I need to ask, where are we at on the missing Bitcoin? Obviously Niklas, and you being there, has something to do with it.”

  “I’m close,” Thomas said, “very close. If you just give me one day I’ll get it. I’m almost sure of it.”

  There was a long, hollow pause in the conversation then as Thomas was wheeled into another wing of the hospital by the silent nurse. Wyatt let out a deep groan. “How close?”

  “Very,” Thomas said, “if you don’t give me a little bit of time, someone else may take it. Who knows when someone else is going to figure out what I already know. Especially after what happened at Niklas’.”

  Another long pause.

  “I’ll give you one day,” Wyatt said finally. “Just do me a favor, and don’t get yourself almost killed again.”

  “No promises.” Thomas laughed, feeling the soreness in his throat again.

  “So, what’s next?” Wyatt asked. “What’s your plan?”

  “I believe Li turned Niklas over to the police after he turned out to be a wild dog. Li took the money, but Joon took the Bitcoin to keep it safe instead. Li tried to steal the money from his own customers, and now his programmers are trying to decipher Joon’s hidden code. But I’m close enough to cracking the seed phrase that I’ll be able to move the funds safely away from him forever.”

  “When and if you do,” Wyatt said, “I’ll need those new wallet addresses and seed phrases.”

  Damn, Freyja was right. Of course she was. If I move the money, the U.S. government is going to take over control of it. Who knows what they’re going to do with it. If I do get it, I’m going to have to let her put it somewhere, and act as if I didn’t get it. I don’t feel comfortable lying to Wyatt, but I’ve got to do this. I’ve got to go all the way.

  “Sure,” he simply said.

  “One day,” Wyatt said. “Are you going to go talk to Li next?”

  “Not next,” Thomas said, scratching the stubble on his cheek. “But soon.”

  “All right, well keep me in the loop,” then Wyatt let out a surprised laugh. “You’re a real fucking cowboy, you know that? People here are calling you Clarice Starling.”

  Thomas snickered. “Not the worst nickname.”

  “Take care, Thomas. Good luck. One day.” Then Wyatt ended the phone call.

  And just as Thomas was about to put the phone back in his pocket, it buzzed. It was a message—a new message from Freyja’s cell. Not so much a message, but a small round yellow face with one eye winking. She was OK. She’d made it back to her phone, and she was safe. Niklas was in custody if he was still alive, and now Thomas was being wheeled into the room with big, bright windows.

  Everything seemed like it was going to be OK now, Thomas just needed to get out of that room, get back to Niklas’ house, find that USB drive, and get it to Freyja. . . but he only had one day. . . one day to find billions, and hide it. . .

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  After being inspected by the doctor, a small-framed woman with thick glasses and a serious gaze, Thomas all but demanded that he be let out of the hospital. They even had a man from security come and stand in front of the door as Thomas put his clothes back on, but in broken English, the man kept saying the police are coming.

  He didn’t care.

  They had one day to get that drive, and now that Freyja was back out there and safe, he needed to get to her.

  Minutes later the police came in, three of them, but Ron wasn’t there. It was Soo-Jin Park, with his black and silver hair neatly combed to the side, now with a dark-blue suit around his wide-shouldered, stalky frame. The two others Thomas didn’t recognize, but they were in full police gear.

  “Thomas,” Soo-Jin said, “nice to see you are all right.”

  “Thanks,” Thomas replied, still standing at the side of the bed, buttoning the collar of his shirt. “I feel the same way.”

  The other two men spoke Korean to each other, and to Soo-Jin.

  “We’ve got to ask a few questions,” Soo-Jin said. “If that’s all right with you.”

  Thomas tried hard not to sigh or groan. “I’m ready to find my bed soon, after all I’ve been through, but if you need to ask me now, that’s fine. But if I could be done soon, well, I’d really appreciate that.”

  Soo-Jin slowly nodded.

  “Why were you at Niklas’?” Soo-Jin asked.

  “Niklas,” Thomas said. “Is he alive?”

  “So far,” Soo-Jin said. “He’s in critical condition. Whoever hit him over the head with that hammer nearly killed him.”

  “Would the world really miss a guy like that?” Thomas asked, and caught subtle smiles on the faces of the other two men.

  They may not speak English, but they understand at least a little of it. . .

  “Thomas, why were you at Niklas’? The car you rented only minutes before was parked there. You went there on purpose obviously, and Special Detective Ronald was alerted to that address minutes later.” He glared into Thomas’ eyes.

  “I followed him,” Thomas said.

  “His car was parked behind some thick brush down the road,” Soo-Jin said. “Where did you follow him from?”

  “I thought I saw him spying on me in my hotel room, so when I saw him getting ready to drive off, I got a rental car and followed him.”

  “Why would you follow him?” Soo-Jin asked.

  Shit. I know what the question after this is going to be. . .

  “Were you trying to be some hero? Collect a reward? You don’t seem like the type to be going after wanted killers for money. . .”

  “I just wanted to see where he was, then tell the police,” Thomas said, trying not to fold his arms over his chest or put his hands in his pockets.

  The two policemen looked at each other and Soo-Jin’s brow furrowed.

  “What about the gun? Where did you get that handgun?” Soo-Jin asked.

  I knew this question was coming. Now the lies are really gonna start flowing.

  “I found it,” he said, standing with his arms at his side, with his hands beginning to clam up. “In the house, I found it.”

  “How did you end up in the basement,” Soo-Jin asked. “And who else was down there?”

  “That basement got a little foggy for me,” Thomas said, “I don’t remember much, and I don’t remember anoth
er person down there. I went into the basement because I heard sounds coming from down there. I thought someone might be in trouble.”

  “There’s a big, glaring hole in your story, Thomas, something I need clarified. You had two cell phones in your pocket, why wouldn’t you—and didn’t—call me or the local authorities?”

  “I guess I got caught up in the commotion,” he answered quickly.

  Soo-Jin scoffed at that answer. “Do you know who this man is? You could’ve died and he would have disposed of your body to never be found. You’re one lucky idiot.”

  “Thanks,” Thomas answered with a smile.

  “So. . .” Soo-Jin said. “You followed Niklas to the house, entered the house after him, grabbed a gun you found inside the house, and then followed him into the basement with the gun? You went down there, and then what?”

  “Again, it gets a little foggy,” Thomas said, scratching his head as if to try to remember. “I went down there, not with the intention of using the gun, but it went off, I was scared for my life, I believe. I think I got him with one, but he came at me so fast and with so much force, that’s when my memory stops.”

  “Well, let me remind you,” Soo-Jin said. “You went down the stairs and fired several shots. One bullet pierced his side, but yes, he found his way to you on the stairs, and nearly suffocated you with his bare hands. Then he got clubbed over the head with a hammer that had apparently been in that basement awhile. A hammer that had recently been bleached, most likely used by him to torture some other person down there. He didn’t hit himself with that hammer. . . and it looks like someone broke free from some bindings down there, and there’s the blood. . .”

  Freyja’s blood from her thumb. . .

  “If there was someone down there with him,” Soo-Jin said, “not telling me is not recommended. This person may still be in danger. And if there was someone down there, I don’t think that’d be something you’d just forget. . . so I’ll ask again, was Niklas torturing someone while you were down there?”

  “No,” Thomas lied. “I don’t think so, maybe that happened before I got down there. He just started running at me as soon as he saw me on the stairs, so I shot him.”

  “And a hammer fell from heaven and struck him on the side of the head?” Soo-Jin asked, holding his arms out wide, showing his frustration.

  “I honestly don’t know,” Thomas said, folding his arms over his chest now, wiping the sweat from his palms onto his shirt slyly. “I wish I did; I’m not hiding anything from you. Maybe there was someone hiding down there in a corner or something, it was dark. Did I use the hammer? I don’t remember it, but if he came at me with it, and I got it from him? Is that possible? I hear people do things like that when it’s life and death, like mothers lifting cars off their children?”

  One of the policemen snickered at that. Soo-Jin wasn’t impressed.

  “Thomas,” he said. “How is your investigation coming? Or how was it coming before you went to play hero detective?”

  “Close, but far away still I’m afraid,” Thomas said. “And I’ve only got circumstantial evidence so I’m not really ready to be throwing out allegations to you.”

  “What about the money?” Soo-Jin asked, as a heavy glare fell upon Thomas.

  “Still in those wallets, last I checked. I’m honestly not that good at the whole blockchain thing yet, I’m still waiting to hear back from the states if they’ve found anything about those wallets. Have you found anything on your end?”

  Soo-Jin spoke in Korean to the other men, who looked unsure about their responses by their shrugged shoulders and raised eyebrows.

  “We are close,” Soo-Jin finally said. “That’s all I can say. We will have the Bitcoin back to BitX soon.”

  “Do you know who took the Bitcoin yet?” Thomas asked.

  “Not yet. Do you?”

  “That’s the part I don’t want to go throwing accusations out at,” Thomas said.

  “If you know of anything, please tell me, just because you tell me circumstantial evidence doesn’t mean I’m just going to go throwing someone in prison, but I must insist.”

  Thomas sighed. “I think Mr. Wei may have had something to do with it. It’s possible Mr. Wei and Joon Chang-Min conspired to hack the funds away from the exchange, but he didn’t follow their plan. He either tried to keep it away from Li or keep it for himself. Either way, Mr. Wei sent Niklas after Joon to try to get the Bitcoin back, but he ended up killing him, whether Li wanted him to or not. . . that’s what I theorize anyway. . .”

  Soo-Jin stroked his wide chin.

  “You’ve thought of that, right?” Thomas asked.

  Soo-Jin nodded. “Not much evidence, like you said, but yes, that’s one of our theories. It’s a lot more likely that hackers took the funds and are sitting on them though.”

  Thomas’ hands went out to his sides then. “But ever since Joon died the funds haven’t moved, and the fact that there is some kind of hidden code in there says something doesn’t it? Why would hackers leave a message for someone else to take it from them?”

  “The hackers could be communicating with each other,” Soo-Jin said, “but we’ve stumbled onto their language.”

  “Why wouldn’t they just send encrypted messages to each other?” Thomas asked.

  “Like I said, these are just theories right now, all being investigated.”

  “Soo-Jin, do you mind if I go now? I think I’ve been playing it off well, but my neck is throbbing, and my knees are a little shaky.”

  The three Korean men looked at each other, and Soo-Jin nodded.

  He held his hand out to shake Thomas’, which he shook. “Again, I’m glad you’re all right. You are something of a vigilante down at the station now. But Thomas, if you remember anything else, please call me immediately.”

  “I will,” Thomas said, bowing to the two other men, who bowed back, and Thomas finally found himself walking out of the hospital room. It took every fiber of his being not to sprint toward the exit and reach into his pocket to text Freyja.

  He casually made his way out of the hospital, back out into the city with its tall buildings, warm air, and dazzling sunlight. Hailing down a taxi, he immediately went to his cell phone after telling the driver which hotel he was staying in.

  Where are you? he texted Freyja.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The taxi strolled through the city, inching its way back toward Thomas’ hotel, he called the reception desk at the hotel, eagerly asking for another rental car. A new voice on the other end was happy to make it happen for him. He hung up the phone, watching the thousands of faces in the streets as he did so. He sat back in his seat and drew in a deep breath.

  He’d told Soo-Jin he needed to get home so that he could rest, sleep off the craziness that had transpired over the last few days—hours even. That wasn’t a lie, he felt as though he could sleep for days. Even if he was still in his thirties, he’d feel at least similar. His throat still felt like daggers were cutting in, and every muscle there was tight and bruised. His head ached, and his vision still blurred every once in a while. Even sitting, his legs were tight and tensed like he’d just run a 5K. Thomas thought about what Freyja must be feeling then, how much she must have struggled to break free of those bindings on the chair while Niklas was about to kill him.

  She’d saved his life, and he, hers. They’d have that connection forever now, and his belly ached at the thought of Niklas cutting off one of her fingers.

  I wish I had killed him.

  Right after leaving the hospital he’d texted to see where she was, and she quickly replied. Interestingly enough to him, but perhaps not surprising at all—she was also at a hospital, but one nearer to where Niklas’ house was. Had she run there? It didn’t matter, but it gave him peace of mind to know that someone out there was taking care of her.

  After he got the car, he’d make his way to the hospital immediately. His belly grumbled again, but not from his drained emotions, he realized he had
n’t eaten in a long time. He called the receptionist and asked for a sushi roll and black coffee to be ready with the car. They obliged.

  He thought of the soft blanket there in the hotel room, and how after popping a couple of aspirin, how good it would feel to lay his head on a feathery pillow and close his eyes.

  No! The race is still on. We’re so close now. You can do this. Push through. . .

  Arriving at the hotel, he paid the driver quickly, leaving a handsome tip, and ran to the front door. The receptionist's smile faded rapidly to a startled look of worry on her face. Perhaps Thomas looked a little worse for the wear. He hadn’t looked in a mirror since he was last in his room, floors up, but that didn’t matter.

  “The rental?” he asked after running to the reception desk.

  “Yes. . .” she said, “it's here and ready. Your sushi too.” She pulled it up from behind the desk with the coffee.

  “Thank you very much,” he said. “It’s been kind of a rough day. Please forgive my appearance.” He laughed. “One of those days. . .”

  She feigned a smile. “Here are the keys.”

  He swooped the things up in his hands.

  “It’s the silver one out there,” she said. “The Hyundai.”

  Soon Thomas was in the car, and with the fresh taste of coffee on his lips and the deep, earthy flavor of wasabi in his throat, he made his way to the hospital. New Seoul St. Mary’s Hospital, just on the other side of Wonhyo Bridge. And he found himself at the front entrance to the hospital in the better part of ten minutes.

  He was shocked and exhilarated to see a friendly set of eyes staring into his as he pulled up. There she was, wearing the same thing he’d seen her in before—torn blue jeans and a black T-shirt, a long smear of blood on her jeans, and her hair was slightly frayed and voluminous as it blew in the warm breeze. Her arm was in a cast up to the elbow, and there was a long extension on the cast where her thumb was—or was again.