Urban Outlaws

by Peter Jay Black

  Jack spun round as the massive agent stepped in front of the open door.

  A side door opened and another agent in a black suit stood silhouetted in the light. ‘Good morning, Achilles.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Jack glanced around the room. He was sitting at a metal table. There were no windows, no cameras and only one door. He listened but could only hear the low hum of the air conditioning. Cable ties bound his wrists and ankles to a chair. He struggled against the bindings, but it was useless.

  The door opened and the lead agent stepped into the room. His cold eyes met Jack’s and didn’t waver as he sat down opposite him. He dropped a thick folder on to the table and stared at Jack, as if he could see deep into his soul.

  Jack kept his expression neutral, almost vacant. The man could stare all he wanted. He had no power. He was just another stupid adult in an ignorant world. If they managed to put Jack in a children’s home again, he’d escape. That simple. But somehow Jack knew the agent wanted more. The only thing was, what?

  ‘My name is Agent Connor.’ There was another long silence before he finally opened the folder in front of him. As he spoke, Connor took time to pronounce each syllable, as if adding weight to his words. ‘So, Achilles,’ he glanced up. ‘You are the Achilles, aren’t you?’

  On the outside, Jack managed to keep his expression unreadable. Inside was a different matter. How did this man know who he was? How had they linked Jack with his alias? He was invisible. Had someone grassed him up? He thought of Charlie. No way would she have given them Jack’s hacker name. Then who? How?

  Connor’s eyes drifted back to the folder. ‘You’ve been a naughty boy.’ He tapped the file. ‘It says here that Achilles is responsible for some major damage over the years. There are a lot of people who would be interested in talking to you.’ Connor’s lip curled. ‘The world-renowned hacker.’

  Jack’s heart sank. This meant his face was now on file too.

  Agent Connor cleared his throat and continued to read a list of Jack’s crimes, but Jack didn’t listen; he was remembering his time in the home. The other kids. The tatty furniture ruined by a thousand children. The threadbare carpets. The permanent smell of urine from wet beds. Things like that stuck with you.

  Oh, sure, over the years they’d tried to find him a family, but he’d always wound up back in that smelly, noisy home. If there was such a thing as Lady Luck, she never smiled at him.

  Jack’s salvation had come from an unlikely source. He remembered the first time Mrs Waverly allowed him to use her computer in the office of the children’s home. He remembered that feeling of wonder, the magic, the way that simple box could open the entire world to him. Take him anywhere. Show him anything. He was a digital explorer, and the internet taught him more than he could ever learn in school.

  Once Jack had been everywhere the connection would allow, he wanted to go further, but Mrs Waverly thought he was spending way too much time on the computer and banned him from the office.

  Jack was devastated. The internet was his world, his escape. So, he’d resorted to clandestine measures. He had to. No choice. Countless nights he’d crept downstairs to the office, locked the door, turned the brightness on the monitor to low and connected to his world.

  That’s how it had all started – playing, learning, experimenting, teaching himself code. But, over the months and years, he wound up wanting more. His appetite for knowledge had grown into something bigger than he was.

  That’s when Jack had started to get good at circumventing security systems, pushing through firewalls, planting extra code where no one would find it. Opening backdoors. With this came a reputation but no name to attach it to. At first, he’d not wanted to declare himself, but, over time, he’d realised that he could learn from others, be part of a community, finally belong somewhere and mean something.

  Achilles was born.

  Jack remembered that day as clear as anything – the moment he’d chosen his alias.

  Months before, he’d been browsing the River forum and had come across a discussion on a new type of encryption. It was supposed to be impossible to break. To Jack, it was a challenge he couldn’t refuse. He hadn’t really expected to get anywhere with it, but much to his surprise, three months later, he had it cracked. He couldn’t quite explain it. He just could see the code.

  When Jack returned to the River forum to publish the results, he needed a name. He’d chosen Achilles because he’d used a Trojan – a bad program hidden inside a seemingly good program – to get behind the firewall.

  The Trojan horse, the battle of Troy and the Greek Achilles.

  Agent Connor slammed his fists on the table. ‘I’m talking,’ he shouted.

  Jack snapped out of his thoughts and focused on the man opposite him.

  The agent looked enraged. A vein pulsed in his neck and sweat glistened on his brow. ‘Am I boring you?’

  Jack shrugged. ‘A little.’ He didn’t want to discuss any of it. ‘Where’s my friend?’

  ‘Ah, yes, Pandora.’ Connor flipped through the file. ‘We have her listed as perpetrating a few crimes.’ He looked up. ‘What’s her real name?’

  Jack didn’t answer.

  They’d linked Charlie to her alias too? How?

  Agent Connor continued, ‘Is she your girlfriend? Have you got delusions of being the next Bonnie and Clyde?’

  Jack ground his teeth. ‘We’re friends.’

  Connor closed the folder, sat back and crossed his arms.

  Jack let out the tiniest of breaths. It seemed there wasn’t anything about Slink, Obi or Wren in that file. At least they were safe. For now anyway.

  A smile tugged the corners of Connor’s lips. ‘So, Achilles, what should I do with you?’

  Jack remained tight-lipped. He wasn’t about to give this smug git the satisfaction of seeing any fear or emotion.

  After a moment, the smile faltered and Agent Connor said, ‘I didn’t think Achilles would be a pathetic –’ he looked Jack up and down with contempt – ‘child.’

  Jack’s fists clenched and the plastic bindings bit into his flesh. He wanted nothing more than to punch the guy in the face. He held back his anger, still trying to show no outward emotion. ‘Should I take the fact you thought I’d be older as flattery?’

  ‘No.’ Connor straightened his tie. ‘You ran into my trap. Someone with a little more . . . maturity wouldn’t have been so stupid.’

  Rage now tugged at Jack’s insides, and it took every shred of will power to keep calm. That was what Connor wanted – for Jack to lose the plot. It was part of his game. Jack continued to grind his teeth. ‘What do you want?’

  Connor cocked an eyebrow at him. ‘I have what I want. You. Here. Caught. I told you, you’ve caused a lot of damage.’

  ‘Not to you.’

  Connor’s eyes narrowed. ‘And how would you know that?’

  ‘I picked the targets carefully.’ That was true, though sometimes he did wonder about the bigger picture. In war there were always innocents caught in the crossfire.

  Connor let out a slow breath. ‘The thing is, Achilles, your presence here suggests you know too much. We can’t have you running around.’ He leant forward in his chair, locked his eyes with Jack’s. ‘It ends here.’

  So, Jack thought, he thinks I know too much, does he? They saw Jack as a threat. Perhaps Obi was right after all.

  Jack allowed that thought to relax him a little. ‘Proteus,’ he said, and watched the reaction.

  Connor’s eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth to answer but there was a knock at the door.

  The female agent stepped into the room. ‘Sir?’

  Connor didn’t take his eyes off Jack. ‘Agent Cloud?’

  ‘You have a call.’

  ‘Take a message.’

  Cloud hesitated. ‘It’s urgent, sir.’

  By the way she said ‘urgent’ Jack knew it was from someone higher up the government ladder.

  Connor looked at her. Finally, he
let out a grunt of annoyance and stood. ‘You and Agent Monday take this –’ he waved a dismissive hand at Jack – ‘brat to the holding room.’ Connor stormed past her and down the corridor.

  Agent Monday, the giant man, came in, cut Jack’s bindings and lifted him to his feet. He and Cloud took Jack down the corridor to another room. Monday shoved him inside and slammed the door shut.

  There was a click as the electronic lock engaged.

  ‘Jack.’ Charlie rushed forward.

  ‘Are you OK?’ he said.

  ‘I’m fine.’ She glanced around. ‘Bored of this place though.’

  Jack sat on the floor cross-legged, rested his hands on his knees, and closed his eyes.

  ‘Jack?’ Charlie said, a note of concern in her voice. ‘What are you doing?’

  He opened his eyes and gestured to the floor in front of him. ‘Sit.’

  Charlie folded her arms. ‘You’re giving up?’

  Jack gestured again. ‘Sit down.’

  Charlie huffed and sat opposite him.

  Jack closed his eyes again and took calming breaths, as if preparing to enter a Zen-like state.

  Charlie said, ‘Why are we sitting down, Jack?’

  Jack kept his eyes closed. ‘I’m waiting for a solution to present itself.’

  ‘What solution?’

  Jack opened his eyes and pressed a finger to his lips.

  Charlie frowned and her mouth opened to say something else but she stopped. A Bluetooth headset lowered in front of Jack’s face, dangling from a gossamer strand of fishing wire.

  They both looked up and could just make out Slink’s face peering through the air conditioning vent.

  Jack untied the headset and clipped it to his ear. ‘Any problems?’

  ‘Nope,’ came Slink’s cool reply.

  ‘Continue as planned.’

  Slink’s face disappeared into the darkness.

  Charlie looked astonished.

  Jack cocked his head. ‘You didn’t think I’d just walk into a trap, did you?’

  Charlie punched him on the arm.

  ‘Ouch. What was that for?’

  ‘Next time, just get me out of here quicker, OK?’ She stood and dusted herself off. ‘I’m hungry. Let’s go.’

  Jack got to his feet and they walked to the door. ‘Obi,’ he whispered into the earpiece.

  ‘Here. Their security is rubbish.’ The light on the door turned from red to green. ‘See?’

  Jack reached for the handle and hesitated.

  Charlie said, ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘It doesn’t feel right. Why’s it so easy?’

  ‘It hasn’t been easy,’ Slink’s voice reminded him through his headset.

  Jack shrugged off the feeling, held his breath and opened the door just enough to peer into the corridor. It was empty. He squinted up at the security camera. ‘You got the CCTV?’ he asked Obi.

  Obi sounded offended. ‘Of course. I’m feeding their security monitors with a looped recording. Only I can see what’s really happening.’

  ‘All clear?’

  ‘You’re good to go. I’ll guide you out.’

  Jack and Charlie slipped into the hallway. They stayed close to the wall and moved silently towards the end.

  ‘Wait,’ Charlie said. ‘I think they put my stuff in here.’ She ran to another door, opened it, and went inside.

  It was so quiet that Jack could hear the blood pounding in his ears.

  A minute or so later, Charlie re-emerged. She slipped the shoulder cam into her pocket, clipped the headset back to her ear, and examined her phone closely. ‘Doesn’t look like they’ve tampered with it.’

  ‘We can check it later,’ Jack whispered. ‘Come on.’

  They crept to the end of the corridor.

  ‘Left,’ Obi said.

  Being guided made Jack feel uneasy, despite the fact that he trusted Obi with his life.

  They tiptoed up the next hallway towards the door at the end.

  ‘Stop,’ Obi said.

  Jack and Charlie froze.

  ‘Someone’s coming up the stairs,’ Obi said. ‘Quick. Hide.’

  Jack grabbed Charlie’s hand and ran to an office door. He threw it open, pushed her inside, closing it just in time. Seconds later someone opened the door to the stairwell.

  The heavy, slow thud of boots on marble echoed down the corridor. They stopped, a door opened, then closed and the footsteps moved on again.

  ‘Security guard’s checking rooms,’ Obi said.

  Jack looked at the lock – it was an old-fashioned mortise type – not electronic. Obi wouldn’t be able to help them with this one – they were on their own.

  Charlie was already hurrying across the room. They were in a small office. For a moment, Jack thought she was going to look for a way to open the window, but instead Charlie ran behind the desk and started opening drawers.

  ‘Obi?’ Jack said.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘Three doors away.’

  Charlie finished rifling through the first drawer, cursed, slid it shut, and opened the second.

  They heard the guard’s footfall stop again and the rattle of a door handle.

  ‘That one’s locked,’ Obi said.

  The guard’s steps continued.

  Charlie shut the second drawer and moved on to the last.

  ‘Two doors left before yours.’ Obi sounded anxious.

  Charlie cursed. ‘Nothing,’ she said and slid the last drawer closed. She spun on the spot, her eyes scanning the room.

  Another rattle of a door handle.

  Jack’s mind raced. They were cornered. The windows didn’t open. He looked up at the air vent in the ceiling. Even if they could get up there in time, he doubted it would hold their weight.

  Charlie dashed over to a shelf unit.

  Jack continued to run through scenarios. Maybe they could take the guard by surprise, overpower him. Problem was, they’d have to knock him out somehow. Those single magical punches only happened in films. If only they had Charlie’s stun gun.

  Charlie upended a pot of pens. ‘Yes,’ she said, holding up a set of three keys.

  She hurried back to the door and tried the first.

  It didn’t work.

  The guard’s steps moved on down the corridor towards the room next to them.

  ‘Hurry, Charlie,’ Jack whispered.

  ‘All right,’ she hissed. Beads of sweat covered her brow.

  The door to the next office opened, then closed again a few seconds later. The guard’s footsteps sounded very close now.

  Charlie tried the second key.

  It didn’t work either.

  ‘Come on, seriously?’ she hissed through a clenched jaw.

  She fumbled with the keys, slid the last one into the lock, and turned it. There was a small click and she pulled back, held up her hands, her eyes wide.

  The footsteps stopped and for a second Jack thought the guard had heard the lock engage, but then the handle moved up and down. There was a pause of a couple more seconds, then the guard carried on.

  Jack and Charlie let out simultaneous breaths.

  • • •

  Ten minutes passed before Obi was sure the guard had moved on to another level of the building and he gave Jack and Charlie the all-clear. They unlocked the door and slipped back into the hallway.

  Their way down the fire stairs was uneventful and they reached the exit and stepped back into the alleyway.

  Charlie ducked behind a van and peered round the corner. ‘Clear.’

  Jack didn’t move – he was still holding the door open.

  Charlie turned back. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘You go.’

  ‘What?’

  Jack glanced back at the stairs. ‘There’s something I need to do first.’

  ‘No way,’ Charlie said, rushing over to him and grabbing his hand. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

  Jack pulled his hand free. �
�I’ll meet you back at the bunker.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘Trust me,’ Jack said in a firm tone. ‘Besides, if I get caught, I’ll need you to come get me this time.’

  Charlie scowled, but then her face softened. ‘Just be careful.’

  ‘Aren’t I always?’

  Charlie shook her head. ‘Not so much.’ She hesitated a moment longer, then pulled up her hood and jogged down the alleyway.

  That was another thing he liked about her – if he needed to keep something to himself, Charlie would leave it alone. Besides, he told her everything, eventually. But, right at that moment, she’d been through enough.

  Jack darted into the building and stood with his back pressed against the door. ‘Slink?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Have you found it?’

  ‘I think so.’

  • • •

  Obi guided Jack to the basement level of the building. The corridors down here reminded Jack of a prison with their unpainted concrete-block walls. He shuddered. The children’s home had been like a prison, and he had no intention of ever going back.

  Jack stopped. The door at the end had the symbol of the sword in the shape of a number one. ‘Proteus,’ he breathed. Something hit the ground behind him and he spun around, fists balled.

  A figure rose from the floor and an air-vent grate swung above their heads.

  ‘Slink,’ Jack said, clutching his chest. ‘Do you think you could warn me next time?’

  Slink grinned. ‘That wouldn’t be any fun.’

  ‘You’ve done well,’ Jack said. ‘Get back to the bunker.’

  Slink looked at the logo on the door. ‘I want to see.’

  ‘Can’t risk both of us getting caught. Give me that,’ Jack unclipped the mobile camera from Slink’s shoulder and fixed it to his own shoulder.

  Slink didn’t move.

  ‘Slink.’ Jack gestured to the camera. ‘You can catch it on playback.’

  Slink hesitated for a few seconds, then his shoulders slumped. ‘See ya later.’ He jogged up the corridor and vanished around the corner.

  Jack turned back to the door, grabbed the handle and let himself in.

  The space beyond was about seven metres on each side. There were no other doors or windows and the room was bathed in harsh fluorescent light. In the centre of the floor was a mass of stainless steel pipework and glass cylinders, all connected with a criss-cross of tubing and wires. Four two-metre-high coolant tanks sat side by side, and next to them was an isolated battery supply.