Page 117 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection
I glare at him and keep my mouth shut while I think that through.
“Bullshit. It depends on the length of each word.”
De Leon smirks. “Yeah, that was a lie, though.”
“Whatever.”
“Whaddo you think, Max, that I’m going to call my mate the Crown Prosecutor? I’m in the same gray area you are. I don’t want anyone looking too closely at my methods. I know you’re a hacker. You don’t see me condemning you for it. Certainly not the way you condemn me without knowing shit.”
I rub my hand over my face. “Okay, I’m sorry if I was hard on you. I know you’re ex-special forces and I know special forces do things that are difficult to live with afterwards. I’ve seen a more ... settled side to you on this trip. I still think you should take it easy with the daddy/little thing, but I won’t ride your ass about it.”
“And the hacking?” De Leon asks.
“You do not quit, do you?”
De Leon shrugs. “Somethin’ we got in common.”
“Yes, I’m going to hack Peter Clarke’s current location.”
“How?”
“Fuck’s sake, Myles, what does it matter?”
“Told you, I like learning new things. It occurs to me that I’ve had a gen-u-ine hacker sitting next to me for over a week and you haven’t taught me how to steal one fucking credit card number or break into a single defense department database. What kinda hacker are you?”
“The kind that doesn’t steal credit card numbers. Well, except Logan’s. And that was only for leverage in case he didn’t ask me to be his best man.”
De Leon laughs. A real laugh that makes it all the way into his eyes.
“Nor do I fuck around with defense department anything. I want to see my fortieth birthday. However, I may have fucked around with the NHS database. I thought Germans were good about centralized records where an individual is identified by a single number from birth to death, but they’ve got nothing on the NHS.”
De Leon salutes me with his diet coke. “True. Smart. Probably more information than the Social Security database, too.”
“Another database I do not fuck with. Homeland’s just a little tense about it.”
“What’s the lure of it, Max? You know, hacking? Is it the thrill of breaking the law or?—”
I shake my head. “It’s never been about that. I’m better with machines than people. They make sense to me. People don’t. A machine never judges you. Never gets annoyed when you don’t know the right thing to say. Computers don’t abandon you. They’re always there, and when they’re not, I’ve learned how to fix them. Working with computers, networks, security systems ... it makes the world make sense. I can control it.”
De Leon nods. “I understand that.”
I stuff a handful of fries into my mouth, not at all sure why I’ve told him so much.
“These fuckers who are after you, what do they want?”
I swallow down the lump in my throat that’s not all potatoes. “Physical security systems. I have some pretty specialized knowledge about a system that’s widely used by people who buy from the defense department. I learned to crack it in the Navy. They want me to shut it down so they can go in, get whatever they’re looking for.”
“And all this.” He waves a hand in the air, presumably indicating all the security. “This is better than just doing another job for them.”
“First of all, it’s never the last job. There will always be one more. I told them the last job was the last job. I even gave them the programs I’d developed. It wasn’t enough. If I don’t stick to my guns, it will always be one more and one more and I’ll never be free of it. Second, did you do any jobs with ... collateral damage?”
De Leon takes a sip of soda and swirls it around in his mouth before answering. “Yes.”
“My last job for them ... three kids. They died. That’s on me. I won’t do it again.”
De Leon sighs. “Look, Max, I’m not disagreeing with you. We’re meant to protect civilians. That’s why I went into the SAS. I’m guessing that’s why you went into the Navy. I sure as fuck did not go in to watch women and children die. But you can’t save everyone.”
The bleakness in his tone as he says the last sentence makes my chest clench.
