City 55

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City 55 Page 10

by William Pinecroft


  Jerry started rummaging through the files on his computer. His personal user criteria defined the methods to bundle files together, which the system learns and begins to anticipate over time. All cases that Jerry had worked in the past were still accessible from his computer. Cases and legal issues were catalogued, including expanded information to explain the significance of the events for later analysis.

  Jerry expanded the list of cases over the past decade, sorted by year. With a swipe of his hand, he minimized all but the current year. The single year floated in front of him, while the others appeared to stretch across his desk. He then tapped the hanging hologram of the current year and with a simple head nod, separated out the various cases that he had worked on. Spaghetti lines of information connected the cases if there were associations. Text also accompanied the cases as he continued to expand and minimize. Jerry tapped a case that he had worked on during that year, and now further data was drawn out. Details of what he had been working on hovered before him. He reordered it to familiarize himself again with the details of the litigation. The information was all there for him, but he needed a better summary of what was available. Steve was also able to search all information based on anything Jerry needed. This could be verbal commands, descriptions, images, reenacted conversations, or pretty much anything else he could think of.

  “Steve, I need all murders brought up from the past ten years. Crosscheck all evidence associated with each case along with the statistical percentage of possible guilt assigned to the suspects that our computers generated prior to The Proxy issuing the final verdict. Steve, please reword and log as a general question related to statistical analysis rather than a question directed at the legitimacy of a specific entity. Crosscheck with the same criteria for all violent crimes. I would like each separated into individual statistical reports, along with a summary combining all violent crimes.”

  “No problem, Jerry,” responded Steve.

  “I also require the same for nonviolent crimes and administrative issues, to include traffic violations and restaurant permits,” continued Jerry. “Remember, this is for the purpose of data analysis or whatever the fuck sounds good.”

  “Of course,” responded Steve again.

  There was a knock at the door. Jerry looked up.

  “Hello. Mr. Parlor?” asked the unknown guest.

  “Yes?” responded Jerry.

  “Can we talk in the conference room or another place? Wherever is okay for you,” he continued.

  “Who’s we?” asked Jerry.

  “Ms. Carpenter and I,” said the pleasant gentleman.

  “Come in,” invited Jerry.

  “Steve, bring the internal cameras down for maintenance,” whispered Jerry.

  “Yes, sir,” responded Steve.

  After brief pleasantries, Jerry invited the man and Ms. Carpenter to sit at a nearby set of leather chairs split by a coffee table. Jerry used this area for informal meetings and collaborations. In this case, he was trying to settle the mood, placing the two visitors in a more relaxed setting. He had never seen either before. The man’s name was Sam Fieldstone and his striking assistant or partner, went by Ms. Carpenter. They didn’t offer Jerry her first name.

  Sam looked to be between forty-five and fifty-five, in good shape with salt and pepper hair and a salt and pepper beard. He was in charge but carried himself in an approachable manner. Jerry wondered if this persona was genuine or a ruse to disarm his opponents. Sam could be maneuvering to throw Jerry off guard while developing a line of questioning Jerry wasn’t prepared for. Ms. Carpenter was a striking young brunette, slim and petite. She looked to be twenty-five and had a genuine but stern look about her. She appeared to be taking everything seriously and did nothing to hide this fact. It was as if the two of them had stepped into the roles of good cop, bad cop embodied by the tone in which they conducted themselves.

  “Jerry, I am the Section E Data Analyst Manager, and we have come down to ask you a few quick questions,” began Sam.

  Jerry didn’t come across data analyst managers that often. There had to be a reason for this mid-level big wig, normally sheltered up on the forty-second floor, to make a trip down to see Jerry.

  “My assistant, Ms. Carpenter, will be cross referencing data during our little chat. Don’t be alarmed. We always make sure that the data presented, no matter how big or small, is factual.”

  At that moment, Jerry observed Ms. Carpenter setting up a couple devices before her. It all worked similar to his technology, but certain bits were pulsing and flashing as they floated before her face. Then Jerry’s heart dropped. He saw today’s date with a timestamp of half an hour ago tied to one of the pieces, realizing at once these to be logs of user access. This was the record of him accessing the murder information through Steve right before they appeared at his office. Steve should have been able to cover that. Jerry wondered how they were able to get here that fast?

  While Sam relaxed, he removed a cigarette. “Would you like one?” he offered.

  Jerry didn’t know what to say. The Corporation forbade cigarettes within their buildings. They didn’t even like people smoking near the buildings. He wasn’t sure if this was a test or if Sam could do whatever he wanted. Sam smiled at Jerry’s indecision and lit the cigarette.

  “Now, your record is quite impressive since joining The Corporation ten years ago. I see you have worked on a number of constitutional and corporate issues, which have plagued The Corporation. You have also been assigned to evaluate the legality of data collection on many occasions. Indeed, it seems that this requires you to access data with some order of frequency. I am assuming this is because you vet or analyze the numbers?” Sam asked Jerry, as he unveiled a wide smile.

  Jerry cleared his throat, conscious to avoid any telltale mannerisms that might betray him, “Mr. Fieldstone, Sam, may I call you that?” asked Jerry.

  Sam nodded and smiled, cigarette remaining between his lips.

  “I evaluate information based on what is required at the current time. I cannot say with complete assurance the reasons for my data inquiries over the past ten years.”

  “But of course not, Jerry. Who could?” exclaimed Sam. “Now, what are you currently working on for The Corporation?”

  Jerry explained to Sam the recent issues The Corporation had assigned him. Ms. Carpenter continued fiddling with the equipment before her. She appeared to be referencing and tying different sections of data together based on what Jerry was explaining. Off to the side, a puzzle of shapes and lines was forming as she was organizing. She didn’t reference the puzzle. Rather, it seemed to be a byproduct of her work. When Jerry had finished his explanation, Sam nodded and put his cigarette out in the ashtray he had brought to Jerry’s office. Smoking was banned after all.

  Sam then simply asked Jerry, “How do the cases you just told me about relate to the data requests you put in?” He looked at his watch for a moment, then over to Ms. Carpenter who mouthed something to him. “The ones from forty-five minutes ago?”

  Jerry had been racking his brain for an explanation to this very question. All he could muster was, “I think it’s interesting.” What a moron. Jerry searched for a backstory, wishing he had one developed long before now. He had even discussed its importance at Charlie’s apartment.

  “You thought it was interesting?” inquired Sam.

  At that moment, a piece of Ms. Carpenter’s puzzle started flashing. The conversation lasted for another five to ten minutes. Jerry couldn’t tell. It felt like two hours, and he was sure his armpits were sweating through the suit jacket he wore.

  “Thank you, Jerry,” said Sam, who was still smiling. Sam shook Jerry’s hand, followed by Ms. Carpenter. There wasn’t even a smirk on her face. She packed up her equipment, finished the pleasantries, and led Sam through the door. As Sam passed, he turned back. “You’ll hear from us soon.”

  Fuck!

  ****

  “Raoul, what’s up my man?” said Dan as he walked up to the
gargantuan individual standing in front of hotel room 1507.

  “Hey Dan, how you been?” Dan and Raoul bantered back and forth for a few minutes, getting caught up on the latest news. “Dan, I’m trying to tone up a bit,” went on Raoul. “My girl says she’s down with the quads some of those body builder guys have.”

  Dan had to suppress a smile. Raoul was a friendly guy in the right situation, but Dan knew Raoul to take offense to any insult and even though they knew each other, Raoul would not hesitate throwing Dan through the wall.

  “Well Raoul, you got the lifting down. You need to add some cardio and watch the calories a bit. Stop eating the fried foods,” instructed Dan.

  “I love me some onion rings, man,” Raoul said. “You have something for Timber?”

  “Yeah,” responded Dan as he gestured with the manila envelope he had in his hand.

  Raoul entered the hotel room, said a few things, and then waved Dan in. Inside the two-bedroom hotel room, people were sitting around the living room and the kitchen. Everyone was busy with electronics, displaying streaming data across the screens. Each appeared to be conversing with someone on separate phone lines. This simple hotel room acted as a major coordination hub that Timber ran. Dan had never been told the nature of Timber’s business, or the ins and outs of what went on with her, but he had been around these people enough to know she was not operating with the government’s best interests at heart. He had been delivering information to Timber for the past year.

  Timber had a reputation for being ruthless and unforgiving. Her brutality was only eclipsed by her professionalism. Her crew was not the typical set of thugs one might stereotype to a modern day gangster. Instead, the group of individuals could have ended up in a technology firm developing groundbreaking innovations for a Fortune 500 company. She headhunted with the best, drawing them in partly by the money she was able to pay, but also owing to her instincts as a leader. Her charisma naturally influenced people to follow, enough even to challenge the government goliath.

  Timber never remained in the same location for more than a few days. Hotels offered the perfect option, as security protocols could be easily overridden or controlled. Timber used different hotel chains at varying luxury levels to avoid management noticing a pattern. Additionally, checks in times were varied, and the group only congregated together when in the privacy of a debugged hotel room. Currently, Timber kept the group small to avoid detection.

  The group specialized in obtaining information. Timber had been successful in tracking the movements of most government agencies, such as the police force, through ever evolving computer surveillance. Timber’s group would then relay real time locations of forces across other networks in exchange for favors and money.

  Timber sat on the balcony. “What’s the current tally?” she asked one of the computer programmers.

  “Still nothing, ma’am.”

  “Nothing?”

  “We can’t get past the firewalls that the government has in place. Accessing infrastructure networks is one thing. Accessing the surveillance nodes within the city is another. We can’t just pipe directly into the feeds. Any unknown presence is going to set off alarms on their side of the terminals.”

  “I need those feeds.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Timber gestured at one of the men in the room. He was standing over a group of employees, monitoring and taking notes of what they were doing. “Status?” she said.

  “Okay. All nodes are up. We have no issues with transportation. Communications are good. No outside agencies appear to be monitoring our network.” The man paused for a moment, looking in Dan’s direction.

  “Continue,” Timber directed.

  “We’ve received another order from north of the border. Standard information package. It’ll have to be modified to account for the conventions north, but it shouldn’t be a problem. I have Dave—”

  “Who?”

  The man pointed at one of the technicians. “That guy. He’s currently putting together the order. Should be done by the end of the day.”

  “Anything else?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  Timber waved him off, checking off a number of items from her list.

  Dan was led up to the edge of the balcony, waiting until she waved him over. “Afternoon, Dan,” Timber said as she put out her hand for the envelope.

  “Afternoon,” responded Dan.

  She opened the envelope and peered inside. She waved over one of the crew, handing him the papers before looking up at Dan. Usually Dan was in and out when dealing with Timber but this time, he remained.

  “Dan?” asked Timber.

  “I was wondering if you had a moment,” said Dan.

  She looked at him for a bit, and then offered a seat with her hand. The other man had left before Dan had walked up with the envelope. Timber and Dan knew each other well enough, Dan having been employed by Timber repeatedly over the course of the past year. He had transferred correspondence between her and other networks that, if betrayed, would have fetched a nice reward from the government. Of course, he might have already, and the government could have her and others under current surveillance. Timber didn’t seem too concerned, and her instincts had thus far kept her safe. The government didn’t have that much imagination and would have tagged and bagged them rather than trying to develop a larger network through a little intelligence work. Dan relied on the fact that she trusted him. Timber waited for him to begin.

  After a bit of a pause, when Dan realized Timber wasn’t going to say anything, Dan decided to give it a shot. “I’ve been working with you for about a year now.” He stopped to wait for a response, which didn’t come. Now here was the tricky part. “My colleagues and I have recently decided to take a more active role against certain recent developments within our society. We feel that the best interests of the common population here in San Francisco are not represented well. We haven’t seen any positive trends from our government and have decided the best course of action is to take the situation into our own hands. Of course, the many resources that you have at your fingertips would be exceptionally useful to us, and we would be ever so grateful for the support.” That seemed to go okay. Very reasonable. We’re all on the same team, and we’re here for a similar cause.

  “Get the fuck out of here.” Timber laughed.

  Maybe not so okay.

  “I bet you would like access to the resources I have,” continued Timber as she swept her arm, encompassing the people and equipment strewn about the hotel room. “What do I get out of this?” she asked. “Who are your colleagues? How long have you been operating? How many are you?” she half asked, half stated to Dan. “You obviously think my resources are available to anyone that comes through that door,” she said as she pointed to the balcony opening. “People less professional and established than me.”

  “Intentions only take you so far. You need to be able to deliver. Can you? Can you bring to me something that I can’t do on my own? And will you get me bagged in the process? I have no intention of giving up to those tyrants. If you mess things up and get me compromised then I’ll be dead because of you.” She looked at him with an intensity people seldom muster. She then raised both hands, turned them over with palms up, and shrugged. Dan was out of his league here and didn’t have the collateral she demanded. “Bring me something I can use. Then I’ll give you something you can use. That’s how it works.”

  Shit, thought Dan. He hoped Jerry was having more luck over at The Corporation. Timber looked up at Raoul and gave a sideways nod, signaling it was time to escort Dan out. She then went back to the business at hand. Dan got up to follow Raoul. Dan surveyed the screens strewn throughout the room. It appeared Timber’s group was tracking two Guardian Element units moving on the western edges of the city. The analysts were correlating the movements, sending out geolocated alerts for others to reference. Dan had used and transferred this type of information on previous occasions. The alerts were tied to geo
caching blogs and websites. The World Government did not monitor sites such as these, providing her units a means to communicate for the time being.

  Even with Timber and her associates currently enjoying this distribution system, Dan knew Timber was more a fan of using communication completely off the grid, bike couriers being a prime option.

  “Dan, take this to Blue,” she commanded before he had left.

  Dan took the envelope and walked off, followed by Raoul. “Later man,” Dan said. Payments for drop-offs correlated to the time it took for the item to be delivered. Timber had written the time she handed the envelope over to Dan across the seal.

  Dan jumped on his bike and raced along the alleyways heading west toward the address Timber had passed. Most of the vehicles used by the Guardian Elements could not maneuver down these alleyways. Dan kept to these areas in case units were patrolling. Tonight especially, he meant to stay away from all major streets. Dan turned north up through Polk Gulch to the Marina District. Blue, a native of Croatia, lived in an affluent neighborhood in one of the trendy houses within the district. Blue was rumored to be a high level executive in one of The Corporation’s offshoot companies that lined the northwestern edges of San Francisco. Dan didn’t know much else about him, aside from the fact that he had delivered and received information from Blue before. Blue was always alone when he did and refused to speak more than two words to Dan on any visit.

  Dan darted up through an alley alongside the house located at the address given to him. He pulled up to the side door and knocked. He was still sitting half on the bike as he did so. Blue came to the door while in mid conversation on his phone, wearing Birkenstocks along with expensive tailored slacks. He didn’t have a shirt on, and Dan noticed Blue had scarring across his left shoulder.

  “Yeah,” Blue said.

  He looked at Dan, nodding his head as if agreeing to what was being said on the other end of the line. It was as if he was studying Dan’s features. Dan wasn’t sure what he was looking at specifically, but he began to fidget under the constant gaze. Blue opened the letter and read the contents. He again looked at Dan.

 

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