“And it’s like cash,” she said. “No ownership trail because I had the private key. A dead man just paid you off, Mr. Trask. But with companies in crypto going bankrupt left and right, my advice would be to cash out as soon as you can.”
Trask waved his gunman away and chuckled. “I don’t understand any of that crap, but I do understand seventy million dollars.”
“Less my commission of three point five million. I’ll be happy to take it in bitcoin. And then I’ll cash out.”
Trask considered this. “Why not?” He waved at George. “You able to do the transfer?”
George did not look confident. Francine said, “You confirm the bitcoin figure and I’ll do the transferring. That way we all know where we stand and the numbers are what they are. And you don’t have to access any of your own funds, only the stuff I just got for you. So you’re golden.”
George looked at Trask, who nodded. “Do it.”
He confirmed the amount and then Francine got back on the laptop and started hitting keys. A minute later, the transaction complete, Francine said, “Nice doing business with you, Mr. Trask.”
“Can you do anything about this shit floating around on the internet?”
“Yes I can. And I will, right away.”
“And there was another woman. She went to see my father. She was looking for this stuff, too.”
“Well, you snooze you lose. And since you have your money back plus a nice little bonus, if I were you, I’d forget about her.”
“I think you’re right.”
Francine shook George’s hand. “Nice working with you, George.”
“You too.”
“Let’s grab a coffee some time.”
He smiled and nodded, and Francine felt her heart quiver, because she knew George was probably now a dead man.
I’m sorry. But it was either you or me.
The golf cart took her to the gate, where she walked quickly off.
She went into a store, did a costume switch in the bathroom using clothes and a wig she had previously hidden there, and walked out through another exit.
Four blocks later she climbed into a white van.
Three stern-looking representatives of the FBI stared back at her as they sat in front of a bank of computers, along with Gibson, who was smiling.
Francine said, “I take it you were you able to follow the entire transaction after I put the keystroke tracking software on?” she said.
“Oh yeah,” said Gibson. Then her smile faded when she saw the bruises on Francine’s face, and how her right arm was hanging funny. “Shit, those assholes beat you up.”
“I’ve been hit a lot harder, trust me.”
“We got every line of code’s worth,” said one of the men. “And access to all his accounts. That was good work. You took a big risk going in there naked like that.”
“Well, it makes life interesting.”
Another agent looked at Gibson. “We could use people like you two.”
“Quite frankly, I don’t think you can afford us,” said Francine, causing Gibson to hold back a snort.
Francine climbed out of the van and kept walking.
A few moments later Gibson joined her. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine.”
“That was really brave what you did.”
“It was necessary to get to the end result.”
“You always this transactional?”
Francine stared directly at her as she wiped more blood off her lips. “Welcome to my world.”
“I’m starting to figure you out, you know.”
“Don’t waste the time. After this is all over, if I’m still alive, you’ll never see me again.”
“Off to pull more ‘transactions’?”
“If I find the treasure, there’s a place in France I’ve been looking at.”
“But if I find the treasure?”
“Then you and your kids can go live in France. I’ll forward you the Zillow listing.”
Gibson looked at her pensively. “Maybe I haven’t figured you out.”
“There’s no maybe about it.”
Chapter 71
Two days later the news of the arrest of Nathan Trask and numerous of his associates made global news.
It seems the man had made the mistake of stealing seventy million dollars from a federal bitcoin depository. And in doing so, had made the glaring technological error of opening up his own digital files to the government. So not only were they going after him for the bitcoin theft, but everything else that was revealed. And by the broad smile on the US attorney who announced the arrest, it was a lot.
No one could explain why a man like Trask had made such a bold and ultimately costly move in trying to steal from the government. Some news pundits were saying it was clear the man thought he was untouchable, because he had escaped responsibility for his alleged crimes for so long. His lawyers had made the predicted responses — that this was a witch hunt, that Trask had been set up — and they vowed to have any and all evidence gathered by the government ruled inadmissible. But the legal commentators had already noted that that would be an uphill battle considering that the man, or his lackeys, had inadvertently offered up this treasure trove of facts about his criminal doings to the very government he had waved a middle finger at for so long.
One commentator noted: “If that isn’t irony piled on top of irony, I don’t know what is. They couldn’t catch Capone on his really awful crimes, but they got him on tax evasion. The history books may write that Nathan Trask was brought down by his own arrogance. But this clearly shows that no person is above the law.”
Sam Trask was interviewed by all the major networks, since a global criminal having an FBI father was, to say the least, not typical.
His responses were articulate and professional, but all of them were accompanied by a satisfied smile.
Trask and his inner circle were being held without bail since the man was definitely a flight risk. As formal charges were readied, it was clear that Trask would be in prison for a long time before his trial even started.
When told this during one of the interviews, Sam Trask said, “Oh, what a beautiful day it turned out to be.”
Rick Rogers phoned his daughter that morning.
“Do I want to know?” he asked anxiously.
“Not really,” she replied.
“Are you sure you’re safe from this guy?”
“Yes, Dad, I am.”
“I’m not telling your mother any of this.”
“I wouldn’t, either.”
Several days after Trask’s arrest, at the same movie theater, Francine and Gibson sat on either side of Sam Trask, who had maneuvered his rollator that day with an extra spring in his step.
As they munched on popcorn Trask said, “I’ve spoken with some former colleagues at the Bureau. The DOJ is positively giddy about prosecuting my son and all his fellow scum. The evidence they have is mountainous, they tell me. And despite his lawyers’ arguments to the contrary, completely admissible even without a warrant because Trask freely opened his records to the government in the course of his cybertheft. And they can’t argue entrapment because they’re missing a critical piece of evidence.”
“Me,” said Francine. “And I don’t work for the Bureau. They must have been tracking me somehow and that led them to Trask,” she added with a smile.
“Exactly. And what is his alternative explanation going to be? He was just getting back money his partner stole from him, and which came from sex and drug trafficking? Ha!”
Gibson said, “But we have more work to do.”
“Can I help?” asked Trask.
Gibson gave his arm a squeeze. “You’ve already done all the helping you needed to do, Sam. I suggest you sit here, finish the movie and popcorn, and revel in your victory.”