Page 72 of Out of Control

The man was correct, of course. Fayez Khoury was dead. Spencer handed over the laptop he was carrying, and Drago did the same.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t help you—”

Drago interrupted the man, not by talking but by pulling out a fat wad of euros. “Are you sure about that?” he asked quietly.

The man hesitated to answer, and Drago pressed the point. “If not you, I’ll go to someone else. After all, a guy can get anything in this town if he knows who to ask. If you don’t want to get into these machines for me, I know other people who will do it.”

Whether the wad of cash or the threat of taking said wad to another hacker made the difference, Drago couldn’t tell and didn’t care. The man nodded briskly. “Fine. But I take no responsibility for what you find on these.”

“Fair enough. My friend and I were never here.”

The Algerian glanced up involuntarily, and Drago followed his quick glance. Crap. A tiny surveillance camera nestled among the clutter on a high shelf. The good news was the technician wasn’t acting entirely legally either. He couldn’t very well try to blackmail the two of them over this. But he could turn them in to the authorities.

Drago fished in his wallet for a simple business card with a single phone number printed on it. He said quietly, “If you ever need protection or help with the authorities, maybe need a problem solved, you can contact me through this number. I take care of those who take care of me.”

The Algerian’s gaze snapped up to his, reassessing.

Nope. He and Spencer were not a couple of street punks stealing computers and pawning them.

The Algerian tried to turn on the laptops, but nothing happened. He pulled out two charging cables and plugged in both machines, murmuring, “Batteries are dead. This will take a few minutes. Once they’ve got a few percentage points of charge, I can find out what’s going on.”

The first machine booted, its screen lighting up.

“Looks like a simple password encryption,” the Algerian announced. “I should be able to strip that without too much trouble.” He plugged in a device about the size of a loaf of bread and typed quickly on the laptop’s keyboard.

The second laptop beeped as it booted up, and the man turned his attention to it. “Ahh. This one will be trickier. It’s got a numeric encryption protocol. But there are ways around that too.” This time he plugged in a smaller, palm-sized device. A half-dozen red lights began flashing rapidly on the front of its face. “This one could take a while to break into.”

“How long?” Spencer asked.

The Algerian shrugged. “A few minutes. Perhaps a few hours. Worst case: a week.”

“We don’t have a week,” Drago responded sharply.

“What’s the hurry?” the shop owner asked.

Spencer answered smoothly. “We told our friends we’d meet them online for a gaming party tonight.” He named one of the first-person shooter games Drago despised as cheap, inaccurate knockoffs of real combat. Surely Spencer thought the same of those dumb games.

The Algerian’s eyes registered skepticism at the explanation, but he didn’t press for more information. Cool. He was willing to play along with the polite fiction, then, and help them out.

“Okay. First computer’s open. Would you like me to remove the password protection for you?”

“Yes, please.”

The Algerian clicked the mouse several times. “Voilà,” he announced, turning the computer around to face him and Spencer. “This computer runs in Arabic. Do you need me to translate for you?”

“No, thanks,” Drago murmured.

The Algerian’s eyebrows sailed up, but he made no comment in response.

Drago bent over the machine, pulling up a file directory. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Spencer turn to face the door, taking up a defensive position. The Algerian took note of the move as well and nodded infinitesimally.

No red flags jumped out at Drago as he browsed the list of files. He pulled up the email application and scanned Khoury’s emails. Mostly advertisements and spam and notably little personal email. Again, nothing jumped out at him. Either the guy hadn’t had many friends, or he didn’t communicate with them on this laptop. Given that the other computer had the heavy encryption, that was where he expected to find the good stuff.

“How much longer on that laptop?” he asked, indicating the second computer.

The Algerian shrugged. “Would you like a cup of tea while we wait?”

“Sure.”

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