The woman stomped out of the room, but before she closed the door, Noah’s mind raced, and he affected a closed posture before blurting defensively, “The kick was self-defense!"
Burgess raised a curious eyebrow before slowly closing the door. As he watched him, the tall young man reviewed everything he knew about the older man so far—how he moved, his cadence when he spoke—but none of his mundane skills or knowledge gave him anything to work with. He didn’t have anything to commit to add to [Community] about the man yet, and that was concerning at this point.
The older man was intimidating. The strength of his presence wasn’t all from his thick neck, or athletic build, or that he seemed to be twice as old as the others—he just gave off an air of absolute authority. He walked like he had all the time in the world, as if people would not continue what they were doing without his permission. The feeling did not put Noah at ease, but it did help him refine his suspicions.
"So," Burgess began, sitting in the opposite chair as if they were catching up on old times. "You like to assert control in unpredictable situations by trying to look clever."
Noah had been ready for this, glad to have his performance already paying off. He sat up quickly; his chin raised a little in defiance. This would be the beginning of a well-crafted act on his part, but he still felt legitimately intimidated. "I'm pretty sure I got most of that right," he countered.
Burgess raised his finger in a chiding motion and set the manila folders on the table. "I never said you weren't clever, only that you were trying to look clever. If anything, Noah Henson, born on September 24th, 2020, you proved my point just now."
Good, Noah thought. He felt the familiar tickle of Charisma helping him with his performance. The foundation is there now; I just need to guide him along. Now it’s time for some reverse psychology. He crossed his arms and broke eye contact with Burgess. “You don’t know anything about me.”
The thick-necked man watched Noah brood for a few seconds, as if weighing his options, then chuckled. “I beg to differ, young man.” He opened one of the folders and began reading off a dossier, enunciating his words crisply. "You purchased two adjacent houses on Avalon Drive back in 2030 through shell companies created with the assistance of your online friends under the false identity, Caleb McMahon-Eagan. I won't go over the obvious renovations and non-perishable foods you stocked the house with. See, there is a problem, Noah—none of this makes sense. Who do you think is out to get you?”
The young man threw his hands up in the air, rolling his eyes and giving the whole room a meaningful glance, but Burgess shook his head saying, “No, if it were us, or someone like us you were worried about, it would not have been so easy to bring you in.”
That hurt. This time when Noah narrowed his eyes, it wasn’t an act.
The calm, stocky man continued, “The fact you were buying real estate isn’t all that interesting, especially since you weren’t renting them, or letting them deteriorate, or doing anything illegal with them. The fact you’ve made millions with the false identity via the stock market, a few smart investments, and a handful of startups isn’t notable in itself either, well, not for the kind of person you obviously are. No, what’s noteworthy and confusing is the sheer number of properties you’ve bought, and how varied their locations are all are across the country. There doesn’t seem to be a pattern."
The way Burgess revealed his information made it seem like ‘Caleb’ was the only fake identity they’d uncovered. That’s a relief, Noah thought. It’d be a lot harder to talk my way out of this if they knew about more of my shell personas, much less if they knew I’m actually a billionaire, He thought. Maybe he’ll slip and reveal more about who he is and why they want me to talk. He considered interjecting something, a line or two to lead the conversation, but Charisma told him to stay silent. Burgess seemed to be taking pains to show off the information that his group held. The man probably wanted to humble Noah and make him feel like he had no way out. After thinking about it some more, Noah decided to trust his Charisma stat. He kept his mouth shut and shot a penetrating look at the closed door.
"I bet you're trying to be clever again," Burgess said, gesturing to the door. He shook his head. "Please don't. Just be honest. You've done a good job of hiding whatever it is you're doing–a very good job–but that ends here. You must know this. From what we've gathered, this whole pattern of accruing vast monetary resources began when you were ten or eleven. See, at first we investigated your parents, made sure they weren’t involved in money laundering or organized crime, but we finally pinned everything to you—well, another agency did. Anyway, maybe when you were ten was when you truly understood you weren’t like the other kids and got bored, using hacking as an outlet for that energy. Am I getting warm here?”
The intimidating man’s words made Noah pause–he’d never considered that his actions might get his parents into trouble. In hindsight, that had been a rather obvious oversight. Noah had two lifetimes of experience now, and the [Jack of All] skill, but he could still definitely make mistakes. He mentally shook himself and focused on the conversations again. I’ve been keeping my eye contact away from him for a bit, seems like a good time to establish it again.
Noah gave Burgess Goodrich a hesitant look, and he noticed a ghost of a fatherly grin. Apparently, the glance had been enough to keep him talking. “I’ve seen a lot of things, but this is quite alarming. There are plenty of millionaires with your level of wealth, but not many who are in the early stages of puberty."
He said the word ‘alarming’, Noah noted. That's usually not a good word. At this point, he was fairly certain he was safe. Other than the hacking, he hadn’t done anything illegal, just unusual, and his more…adventurous adventures online shouldn’t be traceable. Anonymoose could probably give officials a lot of really strange information about him, but unless they were Aelves, none of it would probably make any sense. Noah stayed quiet for a moment, then when he calculated it was time, he averted his eyes for a moment and said, “I’m not a child.”
Burgess’ eyebrows raised and nodded appreciatively. He held up a hand and said, “You’re right. I’m sorry. I was only speaking in legal terms.”
Legalities being mentioned, Noah wondered if he should demand a lawyer, but decided not to. He still wasn’t entirely sure who he was dealing with, but they probably weren’t cops or feds, and probably weren’t trying to incriminate him. Those were a lot of assumptions, but Noah reasoned that they already had a manila file on him, and he didn’t want to escalate the situation—he’d keep up his act instead. Noah gave Goodrich a dubious look, squinting his eyes. “Right. What else do you have on me?”
The older man smiled and said, “I was hoping you could tell me. There are a few fuzzy things that we hope you might help us with.”
“I’m no rat,” Noah jumped in quickly. He wanted to establish that he was loyal to Anonymoose, to his friends.
“I know. I know,” Goodrich nodded reassuringly. He read another report and seemed impressed with what he saw. “Apparently, there was an incident where a teacher of yours was exposed selling illegal drugs to faculty and students. A video of her selling the drugs on school grounds mysteriously popped up at local new stations. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, right?”
Now he’s expecting me to give a little more, Noah realized. I’m making headway. If I reveal some information to him, he might give me more too…but I still need to do this in a defiant way.
Noah decided to borrow a trick from his mom’s book and raised an eyebrow at the man that said, ‘really?’ He followed it up with the most charming smirk.
Burgess smiled, “Alright. You’re smart and don’t want to incriminate yourself or give me much at all, that’s probably to be expected. So moving along, we're also pretty sure you were the catalyst for inciting a small riot in the town square. It began with a peaceful demonstration about the potholes in the downtown area. Within a week, a woman known as Azar gave a few speeches that
led to a riot, and the old, corrupt mayor ended up exposed and ousted. We found traces of hacking at local businesses that were charged for money laundering after that whole situation."
Oh yeah, I forgot about that one, Noah thought, remembering his conversation with his mom a few years earlier. He had told her to speak with Azar, which inevitably had created a domino effect. Azar had a record of turning peaceful demonstrations into riots. She never seemed to do it on purpose, it just happened. When he’d heard about it on the news, and realized his mother could have gotten hurt at one point, Noah had made a promise not act out on every little tickle Charisma gave him anymore.
Noah had a feeling that the riot incident was probably the furthest back Goodrich’s data went. Good. At least I know how far back they went in on my history, he concluded. This implies one of the members of Anonymoose was probably compromised. They were the only ones I told about any of that. He didn’t buy that Burgess and his friends had actually found any traces of his hacks. The rinky-dink systems he’d penetrated back then were about as well protected as a soda can, and even back then, his intrusions had been pretty good.
Burgess pushed another manila folder forward and gestured for Noah to open it. He leaned back, watching Noah's reactions like a hawk.
Noah looked down, seeing more information in bullet point format. "Your hacker moniker is Doc, and you are the leader of the hacker group, Anonymoose."
Noah shook his head, genuinely confused. "The leader? Those guys could blow me out of the water with their skill and experience.”
The man in the black suit looked a little shocked at Noah’s direct response. He paused and said, “What you probably already know is Dressrosa was the leader of the small group of internet friends who happened to be very skilled hackers. They were all originally rivals, competing to see who could crack the most challenging system. Like you, they were probably just bored geniuses. Soon, they joined forces, pooling together their own information and skills. They had been on our radar, but we considered their hacks mostly harmless.
I should probably defend Anonymoose some more, Noah realized. “I wouldn’t call them harmless, old man.”
Burgess hummed to himself. “You’re loyal. That’s good. If it’s any consolation, some people in my circles saw your friends as benevolent hackers. They were known for harassing corrupt politicians and CEOs. Even if we had spent the effort to catch your group, it would have been difficult with their aimless hacks. Before you, they had no funds and no pattern to their behavior.”
What? Noah thought. Had Anonymoose really just been a bunch of random, aimless hackers before Noah had stepped in as Doc? He had funded some of their operations through the Caleb McMahon-Eagan identity, true, spending money on gifts for bribes, motivating the hackers to work on special projects. Burgess Goodrich and whoever he represents don’t know everything, but okay, I’ll admit they seem to know a lot. I’ll bet my bottom dollar one of the members of Anonymoose spilled the beans. He mentally considered the top members, Dressrosa, Fickle, Unkle, and Wash, trying to decide who could have ratted them out. They all seemed so loyal to each other, though, and to him. It didn’t make sense.
Noah’s original aim had been to figure out what these people wanted, and then talk his way out of it. However, Goodrich seemed more relaxed now, less authoritative. That’s interesting, Noah thought. The man’s change in demeanor triggered Charisma to tickle the back of his mind. Maybe this situation can be turned into an opportunity. If I feel this out right, maybe I can incorporate all of…this into my plans, Noah mused. I’d never considered being involved in the government before, but maybe it could be helpful to make contacts this way.
Goodrich said, “After contact with you, Anonymoose's efforts had grown exponentially, seeking out classified information, particularly on specific keywords like Chris Broad, Doc, Aelve, Aliens, Interstellar, Shift, E.M.P. technology, EOTWAWKI, SHTF, prepping, doomsday cults— For a while, there was even an investigation into your little band of misfits being involved in a cult, or an extremist survivalist group.”
Apparently, Noah had been lost in thought because Goodrich leaned forward and snapped his finger. "Focus, kid. I get it, I’m a boring adult, but we have problems right now that I can’t let slide without some clarification from you.”
Noah thought about where Goodrich had been going with the questions before and had a hunch he’d figured out where everything was going. It might be time to play hardball, or at least up the intensity a bit. One thing was sure - these folks were definitely involved in the government, whose, he wasn’t sure yet. He said, “You’re concerned about the online searches and hacking activity, thinking we’re maybe a little too interested in weapons of mass destruction for comfort, eh?” His finger tapped on the table a few times.
Burgess looked at the fingers and gave Noah the first real reaction he had seen since meeting the man—a frown. He said, "You're telling me you want your lawyer in Morse Code. You speak other languages as well. From your correspondences with your hacker group, you speak at least all the romantic languages, both Cantonese and Mandarin in various dialects, Japanese, a handful of islander languages, and most European languages–maybe more. From the intelligence you've shown us, definitely more. This is all very impressive.” The man’s words seemed genuine, it wasn’t an act, and Noah suddenly got excited about a new plan that had popped into his head. At the moment, he was just a brilliant hacker kid who had been caught somewhat red-handed. They were trying to get more information out of him, and the fact he was still a minor had probably helped a lot. He had done his best to steer the conversation where he wanted it to go.
But now, he had an opportunity to take it to a new level.
Noah stopped tapping his finger. Whoever this man represented, they had vast resources and intel. They could be a powerful ally in preparing for the Shift, well, depending on who they were. I still don't know enough about them, he thought. What do they want with me? This guy said earlier that I was bored.
Charisma tickled him again, and he rolled with his instincts. Noah kept the smirk on his face and rolled his eyes like he was talking to the most boring person in the world. He said, "So you don't like how smart I am. Maybe this puts you or whoever you work for on edge because of international contacts, money, and an independent network. You don’t think I'm a genius, no, you're concerned that I was trained, that I'm some kind of super spy planted and funded by a foreign government."
Goodrich closed his eyes and let out a sigh. “That’s what they think.”
Perfect. His bosses think I’m a spy, but Burgess probably thinks I’m just a misguided kid. I can use that. Noah toned down the arrogance in his voice and replaced it with discontent, adding just a hint of worry. “I’m not. It’s just—”
“Yes?”
“It’s just my class, you know? This town!” He gave a dramatic wave around the room and rolled his eyes again, letting out an exasperated sigh. “There’s nothing to do here, man.” He crossed his arms and huffed. A moment of silence passed and Noah saw genuine concern pass across Burgess’ face. Earlier, the man’s grey hair had made him look distinguished in his crisp black suit. But now, his posture and expression made him look like a father trying to connect with a son.
Burgess spoke softly, "Noah. I don’t think you’re a bad kid. I think you’re just bored.”
Noah locked eyes with Burgess and asked, “How would you know?”
“You’re smarter than everyone in your class. I’ve seen your records. You’re always ranked in the top ten for your academics, but you never push to be the best. I get it. Why bother doing your best if your effort just goes into something you don’t care about?” Goodrich replied. “Thankfully I have an idea. Wait here.” The man stood up from his chair.
Goodrich stepped out of the room for a few minutes before coming back with yet another manila folder thick with papers. He handed a pen to Noah and pushed the manila folder across the table. The man nodded to him and said, "You’re bored an
d need an outlet. School isn’t cutting it for you, is it?”
Noah’s heart raced with excitement, looking at the content of the papers. It was everything he’d hoped for. I wasn’t completely confident it would work. Gosh, I love you, Charisma. Not wanting to show his glee, Noah let his head roll back and said, “You have no idea, old man.”
Burgess smirked. “I do, kid, trust me. Listen, you don’t want to go to jail. You don’t want your house searched, your parents detained, or your friends questioned. I don’t want to fill out all the paperwork on you, because it would already be a ton, and I think we might just be scratching the surface. I hate paperwork—hate it. Luckily, I have found an elegant solution to both of our problems.”
On the table in front of Noah were forms full of questions and multiple choice answers, and a handful of pencils. The young man forced out a sigh. “You tell me I’m too good for tests, but you give me another one? And I’m supposed to believe that if I pass this test, you won’t send me to jail?”
Goodrich held up two fingers. “Two tests, in fact. I have a feeling you’ll handle this one well. Please, just humor me.”
If Noah had truly been worried, there would have been no way he’d continue . Instead, he’d be keeping his mouth shut, demanding a lawyer, and sending out coded messages as soon as possible to begin hiding asset and moving money around. Instead, Noah shot Burgess a sideways look, staying in character. “Fine, old man. I’ll do it. But your word better be good.”
“It always is,” the man replied. Burgess opened the door, then before he closed it behind himself, he said, "This first test is a standardized test given to new Interpol agents. If you'd like to get back to school before noon and not be arrested for breaking several international laws, I suggest you start right away."
Interpol huh? thought Noah. His mind began racing as he touched his pencil to the paper before him.
First Song Page 19
