Flicking

girlfriends who just happen to be their roommates too,” Dorian said.

  “Right.”

  Her shivering finally stopped, as Andrea looked out the bus window, across the central divide, at the perfectly flat Central Valley, somewhere on the way to Sacramento. What had she gotten herself into? This was like being in a movie, but not at all exciting. This was shit. She could die at the next stop, not an exciting idea at all. She squeezed her eyes. Think positive thoughts. Forward thinking. Very forward goddamn thinking thoughts. Mom always said she had a positive state of mind built in. Now was exactly when she would have to put that talent into practice. She couldn’t even fucking call mom. Jesus, hopefully they weren’t looking for her. Ice ran down her spine. Positive FUCKING thoughts.

  After Sacramento, things started to feel a bit more normal as the bus began the long climb into the Sierra Nevada mountains. She opened her laptop and began sifting through the files squelch had found. Got him killed and could easily get her killed too. In fact, why the hell hadn’t they waited for her as well and finish everything all at once. Typical idiots. Probably thought they’d got her back in Lala.

  She played the cell phone recordings first, plucking from a few hundred hours worth. Conversations with Bank of America, “…my credit card payment is showing late.” Grocery lists. The kids coming home. After twenty minutes, she learned to jump to the middle and listen for anything out of the ordinary. So this was what it meant to be a gumshoe, she thought, not a little proudly. She was a real life detective. She wiggled the headphones in her ear. Damn, these things itch.

  “…the operation is snowballing.”

  “I know. We are having serious trouble keeping the lid on.” she stopped the media player.

  This was a live one. She jumped to the beginning of the recording.

  “How are you?”

  “Good, you?”

  “Fine.”

  “So who do you think will win?”

  “Could be Chicago, but they have had a lot of injuries.”

  Useless junk continued for ten minutes. Fuck, she didn’t have that much battery power. Andrea looked at the indicator, two thirds left. Where was the good part?

  “So about the team?”

  “Yeah, seriously.”

  “Joey won’t stop talking about how he’s going to play better than everyone else. I think we might have taken the competition thing too far.”

  “Yeah, the operation is snowballing.”

  “I know. We are having serious…”

  Fucking Jesus H Christ, she was listening to a sinister tale of two soccer coaches. She closed the file. “Next,” she said out loud, looking around to see if anyone was paying attention, slightly hoping someone wanted to hear what the Master Spy had to mutter to herself.

  Nothing.

  She kept trying as the bus began to weave precariously up the mountain range. Good thing car sickness didn’t affect her.

  “Our man still hasn’t gotten you the details? We need those to properly move forward.” The voices were quiet, and she could hear the tension.

  “Get off my back.”

  “I’m only asking.” Andrea could hear a sigh. “The heat is on from Milan. I think they’ve figured out the op was off-shored.”

  “We hoped to have everything wrapped up long before that.”

  “I know, I know. It wasn’t supposed to get all fucked.” A long pause. “We fucked up. Constrains our options now. The boss doesn’t want to front more money, but he keeps telling me to get it done.”

  “Sounds familiar, Colonel.”

  “Yeah. Shut up.”

  “I’ve got tentative info from Cross Heart. I’m looking to get back in that way.”

  “Good. Keep working that angle. Hopefully it pans out. Later”

  Andrea opened a blank document and wrote notes.

  Some things I know:

  Bad People?

  -----------

  Colonel: Running op

  Other voice: Seems to be responsible for Cross Heart and “Unknown man”

  Cross Heart: Has info that needs following up

  “Unknown Man”: Needs to deliver info

  Good People?

  ------------

  squelch Dead

  Code Italian. Involved in Milan?

  Code’s family Dead

  Places

  -------

  Milan Site of fucked up operation

  LA Melbox, and me

  NYC Code is going there, and so am I

  Other

  -------

  They want me dead too?

  She listened to further voice tracks. She heard the voice of Mel Boxton talking to what sounded like Colonel, though it appeared to be a simple discussion of consulting fees. So Mel’s involved, but how? Could he be the boss? Makes sense, no?

  Andrea looked out the window where the bus passed a sharp drop off into a deep canyon. She shifted in her seat. This itchybutt sucked. She stood up and pulled at her panties which were stuck to her ass, and tried to bring some life into her atrophying buttocks. Very ladylike, that was for sure!

  She noticed a guy a row back looking over. She smirked at him. I’m not taking my bra off here, buddy.

  Her laptop battery drained like crazy. Each Instant Messaging file and every IRC log was separately encrypted, and she had to use all the power in the computer to break them open one by one. The algorithm, thankfully, was quick, still, it had limitations. It didn’t let her decrypt when the messages were sent. Worse, she’d lost the file time stamps by copying them. Stupid. She knew better than that. Now she’d have to figure out when each log happened by painstakingly sequencing them herself.

  As she paged through the transcripts, one stood out.

  L: We have to have the DN List. It’s the only way to move forward.

  X: I’m putting all the pressure I can on him. I’m getting sick of tell you

  L: It’s critical. Time is running out. And when our time is up. so is yours, bud.

  X: He’ll crack. Sure of it. u wait. now bug off.

  L: It’s the only way he lives, got it.

  X: yup. told him. he’ll come through. few more accidents

  L: I want one big accident, get it. Don’t have more info to do accidents. No time either. It’s up to you.

  What the hell was the DN List, Andrea wondered? And what were these accidents? Shit, it was all confusing. When did the goddamn time run out? Who was in danger?

  The computer processed, heating her lap. Another hit a few transcripts later.

  L: Police have the whole dossier.

  C: Anonymous, right?

  L: Hell yeah. They’ll get her within 24 hours and then it’s all over super girl. She can’t use her cards, her car or go home. She does anything

  C: Snap. I know. Let’s not lose her this time.

  L: How would I know she’d make it to SF? We were stationed to halt anything.

  Andrea’s jaw fell open. Her breath came in short gasps. So it was all connected. She could never show her face again. The realization surprised her more than she would have imagined.

  C: No more. Bye. And when do we get the dn list?

  L: Working on it. Well protected.

  C: As soon as our man gets it from his source, we need to term the source. The guy is too nosy. Searching everywhere. Have we got the loc of the source guy?

  L: We had it. We’ll get it back.

  DN List again? What was this goddamn DN List?

  And what the hell was keeping Code? Couldn’t he buy a friggin cell phone? Her breath came quickly. Calm down, Mrs Amazing, she told herself. Now was the time to calm. Focus.

  Shutdown in progress. Insufficient battery remaining.

  Andrea barely managed to save her notes as the machine went dead. Resigned, Andrea focused her attention on the passing mountains, glimmering in the afternoon light. Occasionally she glanced at the silly guy who’d been looking earlier. Kinda cute, but then, what kind of loser took the bus?

&n
bsp; Box

  “Senator Freestone, I’m well aware of what you’ve done,” Mel said, suppressing an urge to shout. He looked around his gleaming corner office, his gaze finally traveling out the window to the low-slung buildings and ranch homes that stretched out across the Valley, crossed by a ribbon of freeway. He shifted the receiver to his other ear. “As you know, the fight against piracy needs your help more than ever.”

  “Look Mel,” said the gravelly female voice at the other end of line, “let’s cut the hokum. Political office doesn’t grow on trees. Or is that something you weren’t aware of?”

  Mel guffawed. “Clearly.”

  “Frank sent my aides your way. He told me you would smooth things, right?”

  “But—“

  “That you hold the budget.”

  “Hold on here—“

  “And you sent them away. Frank and I have an agreement, and without the agreement there is no DMCA, no copyright improvements,” she said. “You must be well aware I run the committee with oversight of the movie industry.”

  “I know—“

  “So let me finish. Frank promised donations, MAIG made a commitment and you are going to meet it. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Mrs Freestone, I mean Senator Freestone, I’m working with getting the funds cleared, and of course we appreciate the hard work you’ve done, but that doesn’t make getting the funds transferred any quicker.”

  “So I’ll see the check in the next week.”

  A light blinked on Mel’s phone. His assistant had something urgent.

  “I can’t promise that, Senator.”

  “You just have.”

  The phone clicked. Mel noticed, almost shocked, that his palms were sweating. He had to find a way to put her off. Fucking politicians. Money fucking grubbers. He leaned back in his throne-like chair and rubbed his stomach.

  His phone bleated. Leaning forward, his