by JT Kalnay
"Shit,” he said as he got out of the joint as fast as he could. He ran into the street even as he heard sirens several blocks away. A yellow cab almost ran him down.
"Watch where you're going asshole," the burly driver shouted. Jay realized the man had no fare.
"I need a lift,” he said quickly.
"I need lunch,” the driver answered.
Jay pulled out one of Morag's twenties and thrust it through the open window as he scrambled into the back seat.
"I really need a lift,” Jay said.
"I really need lunch.”
Jay dropped another twenty into the front seat.
"Alright already. Where to?" the food-crazed cabby asked.
"West 102nd and 2nd,” Jay said. "Yesterday!”
"Yes sir,” the cabby replied, jamming his foot down. The old cab leapt ahead and Jay was safe of the Italian woman.
"Say. Don't I know you from somewhere?" the cabby asked.
"You a hockey fan?" Jay asked.
"Nah, I hate that Canuck game.”
“Too bad eh. I play for the Rangers. I'm Mark Messier eh?" Jay lied.
"Damn. I figured you was an actor or a jock. Wait'll I tell the wife,” the cabby said.
Wait'll he figures it out, Jay thought.
Chapter
Jay Calloway stood in the foyer of Ted Spencer's co-op apartment. His dead colleague had given Jay the combination to his upper east side "woman trap" months ago and had shown him around the night he had stayed over.
"He doesn't need it now,” Jay said looking around the tacky lair. "Angus MacKenzie looked after that.” Jay flashed back to the bomb blast and envisioned Ted and the rest of the group in the conference room. His head snapped back as he remembered the crunch of the explosion. Jay went all the way into the co-op and sat down. He slept for the next ten hours.
Chapter
Jay fixed himself a huge breakfast from Ted's refrigerator.
"He must have been planning a 'weekender'" Jay mumbled. Jay settled onto the couch and picked up the remote control. After erroneously dimming the lights, lighting the fireplace and starting Johnny Mathis on the stereo, Jay finally got the TV turned on. A soft core porn show was playing even at this early hour on the channel that was programmed to come up, the Playboy Channel. Jay shook his head, remembering Ted's woman-crazy ways and his long-winded tales of lusty conquests.
Flipping to Channel 3, Jay watched the morning news. He was still the lead story. There was an interview with several witnesses from the pizza shop but no mention of the cab driver or Morag. Nevertheless Jay was glad he'd had the cabby drop him 10 blocks from Ted's place. The reporter quickly recycled yesterday’s news in a voiceover while new images of Jay and Tonia together were displayed. Jay realized that they must have been following him for some time, and that Tonia must have known where the cameras were at least once.
Jay flipped to ESPN to watch Sports Center and plan his next move.
I figure I'll be good here for at least a week, Jay thought. There's food, a phone, keys to Ted's motorcycle, a TV a computer and ESPN. What else do I need?
Jay sat bolt upright on the sofa, his breakfast suddenly forgotten. "Phone and computer!" he said loudly. He looked around as though someone might have heard him. "Phone and computer,” he repeated. Jay now knew what his next step was and how he was going to get out of New York unseen.
Chapter
The alarm clock in Ted Spencer's co-op insisted it was six in the morning, time for Jay Calloway to get up and go to work. Jay's tired body and overworked brain resisted every effort of the clock to rouse him. It was the lead story on the news about a bomb blast in Kuwait killing 27 American soldiers that finally jolted Jay awake. As his eyes opened he remembered that today was the day he started fighting back against Angus MacKenzie. He’d been a victim long enough.
Since Friday morning when he'd come up with the plan, Jay had been programming Ted's computer to be the host computer for a small but virulent computer virus. Jay intended on infecting as many computers in MacKenzie Lazarus' worldwide network as possible as fast as possible. Once they were infected he wanted them to simultaneously start running the already installed currency trading program they'd run so effectively against Panama. But this time the target wouldn't be some third world dictatorship, it would be Japan, and this time, the program would be run in reverse, with the program trading so that MacKenzie Lazarus would be the loser, not the winner.
Though he doubted that the program could penetrate and dominate Japanese currency trading the way it had in Panama, he also knew that it could cause havoc in world markets and that all the blame would be squarely on MacKenzie Lazarus. There would be no masking activity, no subterfuges to hide the virus this time.
Getting into the MacKenzie Lazarus network was easy. Jay had a dozen phony login ids scattered throughout the system. Most computer geeks do. The trick for Jay was going to be trying to make it look like the virus had started somewhere other than Ted's co-op. When Jay realized that he could still get to the computers in his apartment, equipment that MacKenzie Lazarus had given him, he knew from where the virus would originate. Jay loved the sublime irony of it all. Wrecking ML with equipment they had given him so that they could keep track of him.
He was sure he could plant the seed quietly enough throughout the network so that the initial infection would go unnoticed. But still, his work from 8 am until 12 noon was going to be the most dangerous time for him. If anyone in the huge corporation was taking their computer security seriously Jay would be caught.
As is so often the case at businesses all over the world, no-one was on guard against the educated, determined, internal computer interloper. By noon Jay had down-loaded all the programs needed into enough computers on MacKenzie Lazarus' worldwide network to ensure the widespread distribution of his trading virus. Jay turned off the computer and made lunch. He'd had a program running to monitor the security channels on the network and had seen no unusual activity. Jay knew he'd gotten away with it and could relax for a while.
After lunch Jay settled in to watch a day game between the Mets and Expos from Olympic stadium in Montreal. By the fifth inning he'd grown restless, thinking about the virus and what could have gone wrong. He had to resist the urge to log back on and monitor the spread of his rogue program. There was no reason to watch the pot boil. He knew it was a needless risk and went back to the game. Around four he ate a second lunch or early dinner, set the alarm clock for three am and went to bed. Jay's plan was starting to come together.
"Why haven't you found him yet?" Angus MacKenzie asked his top security man. The agent had no answer. "I want him found and I want him dead,” Angus said.
"We know that sir,” Stan Krantz answered calmly. "But you have to understand that Calloway is an extremely bright kid who only has two or three vulnerable spots; his parents, Tonia, his apartment, and some friend from college. Unless he makes a mistake, and he hasn’t yet, we may never find him.”
"So let's make sure he makes a mistake,” Angus answered.
"How?" Stan asked.
"Attack his vulnerabilities. When you get a man down, kick him!” Angus' face contorted into a wicked grin. Stan understood Angus' rage. They put their heads together and made plans. Stan's respect and loathing for Angus MacKenzie grew, along with his fear.
Chapter
Jay was already awake when the alarm went off. He got up, shaved, showered and dressed for the road. Filling Ted's backpack with enough food for two days, Jay was ready to travel cross country. He ate a light early breakfast then turned on the computer. One codeword would activate his hidden virus wherever it had spread. He logged in to his computer at his apartment, routing his call through Miami University and the National Institute of Computer Science in Washington. Jay entered the code word and logged out. Total connect time with his apartment had been 1.3 seconds.
"Now the tough part,” Jay said. He crossed to the phone, aware that agents may already be alerted to his activity t
hrough his call to his apartment. He dialed Tonia's number. Though he was certain they'd be tapping the line, he hoped they'd be asleep, that they’d be slow on the uptake, and he'd get to talk to her for a minute before hopping on Ted's motorcycle to evade the dragnet. He knew a call from a pay phone would be safer, especially with the motorcycle helmet on so no-one could recognize him. But, he was sure it was simply too early, and too out of his normal routine.
If I only had a cellular phone I'd be okay, Jay thought.
Tonia Taggert answered the phone on the fifth ring.
"Hello?" her sleepy voice said. "Hello?" she repeated.
Jay tried to think of something to say and failed.
"Hello? Who's there? Jay is that you? Are you alright? Where are you?"
Jay heard her voice rise in pitch. He struggled to speak but no words were forthcoming.
“Who is it?” he heard Angus ask in the background.
He hung up the phone.
Damn that was stupid, he thought.
"It must have been Calloway,” Warren Fishky said.
"Yep,” the other freshly awakened agent responded.
"Did we get an address?" Fishky asked.
"Nope.”
"Did we get anything?"
"Not even a caller-id number.”
"Shit.”
Chapter
Jay scurried out of the apartment. He hurried to the garage, stored his supplies and sleeping bag in the motorcycle's saddlebags and fired up Ted's 450 Honda Rebel. A satisfying mechanical purr reverberated through the underground parking. Jay pulled on Ted's helmet. It was a good fit. Once outside, with the visor down, no-one would be able to see his face. There would be no 'Calloway sightings' that day.
"You mean he called and you weren't able to pin him down?" Stan Krantz asked incredulously.
"Yessir,” Warren Fishky replied meekly.
"Why?"
Warren mentally cycled through a list of lies before finally deciding on the truth. "We were asleep sir.”
Stan Krantz had figured as much. He calmly drew his 9mm Beretta from his shoulder holster. He pointed it at the middle of Fishky's chest and drew back the slide, chambering a round.
"You know what we did to people who fell asleep on guard in 'Nam?" Krantz asked coldly. He thumbed the cocked hammer. Warren felt his bladder let go and warm liquid run into his crotch. Stan Krantz handed the gun to the other agent. "If he falls asleep on duty again, you know what to do.”
Chapter
"It had to have been him,” Stan Krantz said.
"Aye,” Angus answered. His educated Oxford had degenerated into East End street talk.
"If he’s still calling her, there has to be a way we can use her as bait," Stan said.
Angus slowly nodded his head.
"Besides Calloway she's the only one who can tie this whole thing back to us. She's a liability. If you can think of a way to use her as bait go ahead. Otherwise kill her and dump on the beach, near where she fucked him the first time,” Angus said. “And plant some shit from Calloway’s apartment near her. And some of his DNA. His, not yours!”
Stan was left with no doubt about Angus' attachment to Tonia. Stan added "ruthless" to his mental inventory of Angus MacKenzie. The two men left the house and got in Angus’ Mercedes limo. They had an early morning meeting planned at Angus' office in the World Financial Center.
Chapter
Even at the early hour that Jay hit the streets of Manhattan on Ted's Honda, there was plenty of traffic to alternately dodge and blend in with. Driving a motorcycle on the streets of NYC is both a blessing and curse. A blessing because you can move around a lot of stalled traffic, a curse because you have no protection at all, you are a target. But Jay was done feeling like a target.
Along with the other things Jay had taken from Ted's apartment, Jay had acquired Ted's 9 shot, semi-automatic, highly illegal, .25 caliber handgun. Jay had never asked Ted where he'd gotten the gun. It fit easily into the flapped, left side pocket on the leather road jacket Jay wore. Twice when Jay was stopped at a light his hand drifted into the pocket to touch the gun. If anyone could have seen his eyes through the dark visor on the motorcycle helmet they would have sworn that the dull glint of gun metal matched the steely blue in his eyes.
Jay drove back and forth on the city streets, wandering randomly. Stopping, starting, turning abruptly. After half an hour Jay was sure he wasn't being followed. Jay's path became straight and determined. In twenty minutes he was idling the Honda between two early morning tour busses parked just outside the World Financial Center.
Jay's hand was inside his left pocket, his ‘gun pocket’ as he now thought of it. Jay waited patiently. He was directly across the street from the executive entrance to MacKenzie Lazarus, the entrance Angus was most likely to use. Two or three other scooter-couriers were idling in the same location. Smoking and waiting for a radio call to pick up a document that needed immediately delivery.
For a company that just had a bomb attempt on their CEO and founder, they don't seem too concerned about security, Jay thought. There wasn't even one guard in sight. Several cars came up to the entrance and dropped off ML executives. Jay recognized most of them from the party. Just as he was getting ready to forget about it and simply head out of town, just as his conscience was getting control over his need for revenge, a long black Mercedes limo arrived. A man who could only have been a body guard jumped out of the driver side and did a walk-around of the car. Jay went unnoticed amongst the regular couriers.
The back passenger side door opened. Jay eased the Honda out from between the other couriers and started rolling toward the limo. A head, then neck, then finally another body appeared from the door. Even from the back Jay could tell it wasn't Angus.
Still the figure was familiar. Jay's left hand went into the gun pocket. His fingers found the gun and clinched the gun butt. His trigger finger went to its appointed place. The Honda continued its slow roll closer to the limo. Jay recognized the third man to emerge. It was Angus MacKenzie.
Another head appeared from the limo. There were now four people on the sidewalk. Jay was no more than fifty feet from the group. The .25 caliber pistol came out of his pocket. Jay turned the Honda up onto the sidewalk and accelerated.
The heads of the men turned as the Honda's engine wound up to a growl.
Jay raised his left hand, his finger tensed on the trigger. Jay saw the body guard reaching into his jacket and hoped the guard would be too slow. Jay was within ten feet, then seven, then five. He raised the gun and pointed it directly at Angus’ center of mass. The Honda passed within a foot of Angus, the gun's nose brushed against Angus' suit jacket. But Jay did not pull the trigger. He dropped the gun and peeled out, accelerating around the corner of the building before the guard could shoot.
"Who the hell was that?" Angus roared. He looked back and forth from the guard to the other men.
"I'm not sure Angus,” Stand Krantz offered. "But if I had to guess, I'd say Calloway.”
"The gutless little bastard,” Angus spat. "I'd have pulled the trigger.”
Stan looked closely at Angus. A single bead of sweat trickled down from Angus' left temple. Stan’s mind visualized that drop of sweat as the river of blood it could just as easily have been if Calloway had pulled the trigger.
"I never figured him for a killer,” Angus said contemptuously.
"Neither did I,” Stan answered. "Neither did I.”
Quickly putting time and space between himself and the site of the attempted drive-by, Jay moved as fast as the Honda and traffic would let him. He was shaking from the adrenalin rush of the murder he didn't commit. Within minutes he was all the way up the West Side. The sun shone brightly as he crossed the George Washington Bridge. Recognition suddenly came to him.
The other guy was Stan, Jay realized.
The lonely miles on the long empty highway to Kentucky helped Jay pull a lot of the last year together. By the time he arrived, he was sure he had it figured out.
Chapter
Stan Krantz walked the last few feet into the gym in the MacKenzie mansion.
"I saw your boyfriend today,” Stan said.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Tonia answered from the stair master. She was stepping quickly and swinging hand weights in curling and pressing motions.
"I said I saw Calloway this morning,” Stan repeated.
"Calloway's dead,” she said. "Remember? You killed him? With a huge frickin’ bomb?” Tonia took a drink from her designer bottled water. She toweled her face. Stan watched her closely for a reaction. She hid it in the towel.
"I don't think he's dead,” Stan said.
"He's dead,” she said. "If he wasn't dead he'd have shown up here by now crying for me to run away with him.”
"Would he?"
"You know he would.”
"And what would you do if he did?" Stan asked.
"Fuck off,” Tonia snapped.
Stan walked over beside the stair master. He kicked the plug out of the wall. The machine growled to a halt.
"I just want to make sure I know what side you're on,” Stan said.
