“You can’t just run off like that without explaining what you’re planning to do, Tim!” Aaron said angrily.
I looked at him for a moment, remembering their collective inability to understand ‘geek stuff’, and decided to use that. If I had to explain how this was really going to work, I wouldn’t get to actually do it until next year, but time was ticking.
“Fine. Here’s my plan. I already found out they’re using an outdated version of Outlook that has long lost its mainstream support to fix the known exploits. So, I’m going to send them a PDF invoice with a little extra payload embedded, that’ll cause a privilege escalation to allow my malware to install itself onto their system. From there it will automatically spread itself to every hard drive and device they connect to the initial machine. I’ll also gain remote access to the infected devices, so I can check their wireless network for any devices that might not be connected physically, or are incompatible with my malware. I already have a C&C-server up and running from a former project, so I don’t have to worry about that. When I’m confident I’m in every device and drive they could have stored the videos on, I’ll brick them all. Clear so far?”
I was met with blank stares; they obviously hadn’t understood half the words I just used.
“Great. So, here’s the part you all actually need to worry about. Since I just sent two of their guys to the hospital and a third one directly to jail, they probably won’t be too happy with Logan and me right now. They might just use the videos to retaliate anyway if they get any more pissed at us. So, I need to work fast! But since your Golden Boy obviously didn’t think of that, he didn’t see the need to speak up, and we just wasted an entire fucking week sitting on our asses, while they got more irritated with each day Logan keeps avoiding them! To work fast, I need to work without interruptions. Is that possible or do you need to make any more angry demands, Aaron?”
They looked at each other, but were obviously concerned about the conclusions I had drawn regarding the time-issue. That part made sense to them. They nodded and started to file out of the room. I called out to stop them.
“Claire! I’ll need eight-thousand dollars in cash. Get it from my bank account, since you probably don’t have that much lying around anymore and obviously think it’s yours anyway. When you’re in the bank, pick up a nice money pouch to transport it. Favorably one that comes with a little window for business cards. And John, do me a favor and call Bill. Make sure he knows I’ll need to borrow one of the armored SUVs for a few hours in about a week.”
Then I got back to work, ignoring their stunned stares.
On the social media pages of the sports bar, I had seen them advertise an event that happened a week before. I prepared an invoice for the date of that event from a liquor distributor in their area, but addressed it to a different bar. The email itself looked completely legit, and simply thanked them for their business without mentioning any names.
The usual M.O. of any accountant, when presented with a legitimate looking invoice they can’t place, is to simply open it to check what the distributor wants to charge them for. When they see the invoice is actually addressed to a completely different company, they will just assume a typo in the recipient address and dismiss the whole thing with a relieved chuckle. They usually won’t even contact the supposed sender to notify them of their mistake, since that would just mean more work for them. But even if they do, they’ll have clicked on my manipulated PDF that embeds a Word document by then, and the damage is already done.
About an hour later, I was done and had sent the mail. To my surprise, I received the notification from the C&C-server not even twenty minutes after I had hit the send-button. Seemed like the guy operating the bar did his own books. The device he read my mail on was a laptop, and when I activated the built-in camera and microphone, neither turned out to be covered. Despite this being good for me, I couldn’t help but shake my head. I could literally see when it was safe to go through his files. Why do people think we nerds have been covering the cameras on our laptops and phones for the last hundred years, and every electronics store sells those fancy adhesive slide-covers by now?
I managed to activate the Wake-on-LAN function, so, in case he shut the thing down before I could accomplish anything more, I would just log back in when I was confident he would be gone home.
By now, I was getting somewhat tired, not to mention my ribs were hurting again. I tried to get my shoulders and neck to stop hurting when Claire walked through my door. The indecisiveness in her behavior confused me for a moment, until I remembered the events of the day so far.
“Hey, Honey. I know you asked us to let you work, but ... do you need anything? Something ... something to eat, maybe?” Claire asked carefully.
“Nah, I’m good. Thanks.” I groaned back, rubbing my other shoulder now. Claire perked up and quickly stepped behind me.
She inspected the shoulder I was rubbing and started doing it for me. My initial impulse was to tell her off, but whatever she was doing with her hands felt orgasmic! My planned protest was replaced by a surprised, yet appreciative, moan. Soon I was leaned back in my chair, eyes closed, the back of my head resting between her breasts, just enjoying the feeling of pain leaving my tensed-up body as it relaxed. If she wanted to serve me, who was I to tell her off? After a few minutes of this, I heard Granny’s voice from my door.
“Any progress?”
When I looked at her, she wasn’t looking at me. She was grinning at Claire, making me realize that she wasn’t inquiring about my attempts to break into those peoples’ systems. She had sent Claire in here to start mending our relationship. Fat chance for that. If that woman ever wanted to have any kind of relationship with me again, she shouldn’t need her mother’s order to work for it.
I decided, however, that this was not the time to have that kind of discussion. Instead I gestured to the monitor, meaning for my grandmother to check on my work progress.
“What’s this?” she asked after she had walked over to us and came to stand next to Claire.
“That’s the guy doing the books in Logan’s sports bar. We’re watching him in real time through the camera on his Laptop right now.” I explained. Claire’s hands stopped working.
“You can do that!?” they both asked at the same time.
“Sure. Can do more!” I proudly announced, disconnected the earbuds I had used to listen, and switched to the laptop’s speakers instead. We could hear him talk on the phone.
After a minute Granny spoke again.
“This is ... weirdly captivating. I’m watching a complete stranger talking about toilet stalls, but I just want to keep watching him!”
“Yeah. It’s like the Truman Show come real. It just turns you into a voyeur.” I commented. Then groaned again when I moved in a bad way, so my belt pushed against the wound on my stomach.
“Are you okay?” Claire asked concerned.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Belt buckle pressed into my stomach. And I overexerted my chest again, to the point where the ibuprofen doesn’t cut it anymore, but I don’t wanna take the stronger pills.”
“Because you had alcohol?” Granny speculated, placing her hand in my neck to lightly scratch it, while Claire was again rubbing my shoulders.
The light scratches on my neck had a disturbing and alarmingly obvious effect on me. I immediately felt goosebumps spread from my neck, across my entire back, and down both of my arms. My upper body even erupted in an involuntary trembling as I closed my eyes and enjoyed the light touch.