Prologue
Nutland: a history
Nutland is a grand land of rapturous beauty and wonder. Beautiful white sandy beaches flank crystal blue oceans, filled with beautiful fish and undersea life. As you move inland, past our five star Michelin rated hotel a d museum, warm meadows filled with flowers of every color stretch as far as the eye can see. Fragrances from the flowers meld seamlessly with the warm breezes from the sand and surf. Further inland to the interior of this stunning island meadows blend into our wooded parks. Cabins furnished in a warm and homey style are ready for you to enjoy a quiet weekend.
We have our wonderful benefactor to thank for this island. Anna Maranon, known informally as Captain Cashew discovered the island, and made it the wonderful place it is today after a time of incredible hardship. The Captain was sailing her sailing ship through a storm,when it was suddenly disabled during a freak lighting storm. She's described it as Saint Elmo's fire that started on the very top of the mast, but grew to take over the entire bow of the ship. With a loud crack, an explosion destroyed the main sail, and nearly blinded her. With her extreme nautical skill, she deftly navigated her craft to an island she saw peeking over the horizon. Falling unconscious as she ran aground, she rode out the rest of the night as the storm raged on. She was slipping in and out of consciousness through the night, and still to this day swears that the only thing that kept her going were the friendly spirits of the island urging her to keep going on, that things would undoubtedly be better in the morning.
As the sun rose over the distant hills she started to crawl out of the battered hulk of the ship. Barely able to see, she made the trek out to the deck on her hands and knees. Her traveling companion, a small spider monkey guided her every inch of the way along her path to freedom. After many hours of the arduous trek, she eventually found herself laying in the warm sands of our world famous sandy beach.
She rested there and let the sun wash over her body. She slept again under the warm sun, resting her body,and revitalizing her soul. As she awoke, the haze in front of her eyes persisted, but was slowly improving. The fog in her head slowly lifted Slowly, with the aid of her monkey, she gathered what she could and made a small shelter to spend the night.
The full moon shone over head as the Captain sat and planned her survival. As she rested, she assessed her situation, and set the plans for her survival and eventual rescue. As the morning dawned, she started on acquiring supplies from the wreckage. She found that hour by hour her vision cleared, and she was more clearly able to view her surroundings.
Verdant green trees were just beyond a field that lie past the stunningly white beach that her wrecked ship found itself aground upon. She often thought to herself that the wreckage was an ugly scar upon the land that lay before her. She built a large fire on the beach, then starting scouting the land. With a scrap of paper from the ship She painstakingly drew a map of the locations she knew she'd need to remember.
First on her agenda was fresh water. For that, she knew that she'd need to leave the tranquility of the beach. She headed inland, passing along the edge on a jungle forest, noting that the unique geography of the island was something special. Where the forest thinned, before meeting the meadow, a creek of cool crisp water briskly flowed into a crystal clear pool shaded by a thick copse of trees. She smiled as she took her first taste of the water- it was cold, clean and fresh, and it was at this point that she knew she would be alright.
Food was an easier thing to obtain. Ripe fruits dangled from the trees, their bright colors a vivid contrast to the dark green foliage. Coconuts littered the ground of the beach. Crabs crawled over the sand to the water where schools of fish teamed. She spotted a nice ripe mango and ate its sweet flesh as she thought that her survival would be a pleasure.
Several weeks passed, and she improved her living arrangements with every day. A structural improvement here, a decorative flourish there. It was becoming to feel more and more like home. Every day though, she made sure to set her signal fires on all the high points along the island, and she checked the horizon frequently for passing ships. As the weeks went along, she started scanning the horizon a little less frequently, but always set her fires. Eventually, the fires were her late afternoon routine, her monkey on her shoulder, chattering to each other the whole way.
The seasons changed, from pure sun and beautiful warmth to increasing clouds and breezes. The Captain sat inside her home more and more often as rain blew over the island in the afternoon. She realized that it must be a rainy season, but never let that deter her from keeping her signal fires lit. She made sure to gather fuel for the fires and keep it dry under carefully thatched awnings, the started the fires after the rains.
While resetting and refueling her largest fire on a sand dune by the beach, her monkey started chattering louder and louder, jumping all over her, and pulling her hair. She looked up, and was shocked to see a tall ship sailing through the waters. The Captain screamed, her voice hoarse from disuse as she grabbed a flaming branch from the fire, and ran to a pile of wet green leaves, setting it aflame to smoke and smolder, with the black acrid smoke snaking towards the heavens.
As soon as the pile was lit, she ran to the beach waving her flaming branch above her head, screaming the entire way. The captain raised her hands and jumped down the dunes and into the shallow water. There was no way to know if she had been seen, at least not at that moment. The boat continued along, and The Captain thought that all was lost, sinking to her knees in the warm crystal clear water, screaming and pleading to the heavens above. She held her hands out, pleading for the boat not to leave, crying her azure eyes out, their color dulled by the desperation felt in her heart.
Suddenly she saw it, a flash coming from the main mast of the ship. She thought that she was mistaken, that it was the brilliant sun reflecting off the polished rigging. There it was again, she realized, as she stood up again, tears in her now bright blue eyes. She stepped back onto the beach, and walked back to her sand dune where the largest fire lay, and placed a green palm frond onto the fire, the black smoke serving as a signal to her rescuers.
Sitting on the dune, she watched a small dinghy lower from the side of the ship into the water. Under the power of several powerful men, they rowed the boat swiftly towards the shore. The Captain watched with tears of joy as the small boat made it ashore, and three well muscled deeply bronzed men climbed out of the craft, and began slowly making their way towards her. She stood, and waved them over to her, calling hoarsely for them to stay as she slid down the dune and landed at the nearest mans feet.
In a raspy voice The Captain explained what had happened in the previous weeks. The men explained that this island wasn’t on their map, and their captain wanted to explore it. As soon as he saw the fires and flags, he knew something was up, and his assumptions were confirmed as soon as he saw the first smoke signal go up. He decided to send out his three strongest men to deal with whatever they would find on the island, whether it be friend or foe. The three men were pleased to discover that this wasn’t some pirate sanctuary, although they had discussed the matter on the trip over. The Captain was ecstatic to know that she had the best of the best her to help her on her way out.
She led them towards her dwelling which had started out as a simple lean to, but was now a large hut well back from the water in the tree line. It looked like a large yurt with its floor elevated from the ground by several inches, and a large fire pit in its center, smouldering just enough to keep animals and insects away. Its walls were carefully woven bamboo strips and the roof was thatched with palm fronds woven tightly together to keep the passing rains out. The captain explained that with food and water so readily accessible here on the island, she was able to upgrade her accommodations to suit her whims as they changed.
The men were impressed to see what she had done, and asked how long that she had been here. The Captain looked at them blankly, and then shrugged, admitting that time had started to blend together, and that it must have been a while, seeing that she thought that the rainy season was just about over. She asked what the date was, and was stunned once the middle sized man told her: She realized that she was on the island for the better part of a year!
It all made sense once she thought it over for a minute. She had seen the whole of the sunny season and the whole of a rainy season. She must have landed on the island during the end of the rainy season the year before. Shaking her head, she gathered her most important and necessary possessions in a bag she had taken from the battered hulk of the ship that had brought her here.
Once she was ready and packed, her monkey on her shoulder, she made her way back to the waiting dinghy. The men helped her inside of the small boat, and pushed it off back into the ocean and began swiftly rowing the boat back to the waiting tall ship. As they rowed, they sang a song in a language that was strange to The Captain. She listened intently as she watched the land grow smaller and smaller as the men rowed ahead strongly. After a few rounds of the shanty, she started to sing along quietly, her voice becoming stronger with each repeat of the chorus. The men smiled and nodded as she sang along.
“Miss, you do sing along well, the tune suits you,” said the man at the bow of the dinghy as he smilled broadly at the Captain. She smiled right back, and asked about the language and song. He explained that they were from a long way away, and were singing a seafaring song from back home. He then explained the story behind it.
“See, Miss, back home, we feel that the water on this earth is all held up in a shining gold bowl held on the back of a she turtle, looking for its mate. This sea turtle swims the oceans, setting all the waters in that shining bowl in motion. One day it’ll find it’s mate and settle down, but until then, it moves around, and we all move around with it. The day the turtle settles down, well, the world will all get divided on the baby sea turtles backs, but for now, we’re all one people together. It’s a silly story but, hey, its what we are and what we do, you know, Miss?” The man shrugged as he pulled his oar again.
The middle man picked up the story where the first left off. “Well, that’s the story, but the song, well, I guess it’s sort of related. See the song, it just says, Go turtle go, Swim Turtle swim, Find what you will, and make baby turtles. Silly song, but it’s got a great rhythm for rowing and raising sails.” The man in the back of the boat snorted and laughed.
It;s also the cleanest song we know,” he said as the other two men guffawed.
The Captain laughed along with the men. In her raspy voice she told them that she was not unaccustomed to dirty sea shanties but was glad that they were thinking of her. She sang along with the men as they resumed their silly turtle song, and they hastily made their way to the large ship. She took one last look at the tiny island and thought just how beautiful it was, and that she knew that one day she was to return to her little hut on the sand.The tall ship’s captain took her hand and helped her onto the deck of the ship as he looked her up and down. She looked back at him and realized that she knew him from somewhere. It didn’t click in her head until she heard him give orders to stow the dinghy. She gasped in the realization that this ship’s captain was a boy she had gone to school with years before.
“Aiden?” she whispered hoarsely as she looked at the tall deeply tanned man. He stopped giving orders mid sentence to the crew and looked at her again with a piercing glance, that changed suddenly into a look of shock.
“Anna?” he whispered as she nodded her head nearly imperceptibly. “I thought so, but didn’t believe it! You’re supposed to be dead!” he stammered as he continued. “I went to your funeral. I sent flowers.”
She smiled and laughed, “I’m really here, it’s really me. Do you have this place marked on your charts?” she asked, her tone turning very serious very suddenly.
“Of course, mystery smoke island.” he said as he nodded. “It wasn’t on the charts, and we couldn’t figure it out, I was coming in for a closer look, and curiosity got the better of me”
“And the better of me,” she said laughingly, pleased that she knew she’d be able to find the island again, this time under better circumstances.
The tall ship made it’s way back to its port of call in the virgin islands. During the trip, she told her story to Aiden, and he was shocked to hear of her tale of survival. She just shrugged and told him, “This island is practically asking you to be able to stay on it. Food and water are everywhere, the creatures stay away from a campfire, and for most of the year the weather is just so mild, it’s just a joy to stay there.” They chatted about past times, and the year she was gone. Nothing really had changed, some friends were married, some not, some had kids, some had more, and some had none. They toasted her rebirth over dinner, and she declared herself ready to get back into life. She took the few days of the trip to get herself ready. She scrubbed herself with warm water and real soap, and trimmed her way too long and sun damaged hair with scissors borrowed from the men that rowed her back ashore. She looked at herself in the mirror in her stateroom and saw the freckles from the sun on her deeply tanned skin, and the smile lines around her eyes and mouth. She laughed as she thought of all the commercials and products that are supposed to give that healthy sun kissed glow, but she thought the all natural way was the best. Dressing herself in clean clothes from the storeroom, she rested in the soft bunk on the wall of the stateroom until she was told that they were nearing the dock.
A small crowd of people were waiting for the Captain as she made her way off the craft. They could not believe that it was really her. Her friends and family stood at the dock behind a rope well back from the dock as she tall ship carefully reached its mooring. The men tied the boat to the mooring bags and called to the ships captain that all was well. Anna stood on the deck and took a deep breath as she shook her head. She know that those people loved her and thought that she was gone, and that she shouldn’t be nervous to see them, but she was all the same. She felt a warm body move next to her, and she turned her head and looked up at a the smiling face of the first man that she saw on the island which felt very long ago and very far away. He passed to her a set of well worn binoculars, which were warm from his grasp.
She held them up to her eyes, and scanned the crowd gathered there at the dock. She gasped as she saw her mother and father waiting for her, looking as anxious as she felt. To her, it looked like they had aged many years-they just looked old compared to their memories. She thought about it as she stared into the binoculars. They looked like people who had the weight of the universe upon their shoulders for too long and that they had broken under it’s incredible mass. A work hardened hand tapped her on the shoulder so softly it was nearly imperceptible. “Miss Anna, it’s your turn on the dinghy.” a soft voice said, it’s accent warm and lilting. She lowered her gaze from the binoculars and turned to see the same three men who had rescued her. “We’d be honored to take you back ashore.” he whispered. The Captain smiled and with tears in her eyes hugged each large man in turn. The largest of the three tried to discreetly wipe his eyes, and his actions were ignored by all present. They helped her into the dinghy and climbed in after her, each grabbing an oar. The Captain sat in the bow of the boat, staring straight ahead.
She felt another very soft tap to her shoulder. She turned around, and looked at the men, all smiling. “Miss, you have to start the song. It’s only proper,” the man nearest her said. She smiled back, then turned to face the front again.
“Okay men, lets get me home!” she said in a loud powerful voice that was met with cheers and whistles from both the dinghy and the deck of the boat behind her. She started the song with a nearly clear voice, with only the barest hint of the hoarseness that had taken root during her stay on the island. The men started to row with her song, singing along during the appropriate parts of the song, and the boat began to move at a decent clip during the trip to the dock.
The people on the dock started to point and cheer as they saw the Captain in the bow of the dinghy singing loudly, her voice piercing through the distance. She saw her parents stand silently, their hands over their hearts, in disbelief. “Could it really be true?” her mother said to her father. “Is my baby really there?” He nodded wordlessly and held her in his arms, tears flowing freely as he saw his daughter, his little girl leading the small boat of men to the dock.
Moments that felt like ages later, the small boat threw a line to the waiting person on the dock, who swiftly tied the line to the cleat, then flashed a thumbs up to the Captain who was grinning ear to ear at the sight of all her friends and family. The men got out first and helped her out of the boat. She hugged each of them again for good measure, and they whispered words of encouragement in her ear. With a deep breath, she grinned and whooped as she ran towards the crowd.
She practically jumped over the rope like a hurdle and ran to her parents who greeted her with open arms. Her mother looked at her with happy tears in her eyes said “I knew it wasn’t true! Nobody believed me, but I knew it!” They hugged and cried together, and stood and spoke for the first time in over a year. After a long while, she greeted the rest of the crowd, hugging and crying. The captain knew that she was never dead, but this was the first time in a long time she felt truly alive. She was reborn.
As the weeks passed, she felt pangs of homesickness that she could not shake. She knew she was home, but it just didn’t connect fully, till she was looking at the charts from Aiden’s ship. She pulled out the page that held her island, and looked at it with wonder. A little red x with neat, carefully printed lettering below it. It read “Mystery Smoke Island,” and was underlined twice. As she looked at it, it dawned on her that the tiny little island was her home, and that she’d do just about anything to get back there. A wave of better judgement flowed over her as she looked around the room.
“Better circumstances,” she whispered, smiling. She grabbed a nearby pad and pen and began to compose a list. She began to write everything she’d need to be able to make the island her home permanently. The page began to fill up. Once she thought she had everything she needed, she looked at the phone nervously. She knew the first step would be to call her father and see if he would go along with her plan. He probably would, she thought, but what if he didn’t? With a shaking hand she picked up the phone and tapped the screen gently a few times till a smiling photo of her father filled the screen.
As he picked up the phone and said hello, Anna began talking like a dam had burst inside of her. It all flowed out in a jumble, and just as suddenly as it started it stopped with a single word from her father.
“Yes.”
With that, it began. The island was researched and bought from an obscure island country that could really use the money. Items were shipped, and moorings were built. The only things that the Captain’s father insisted that she build were a sturdy house that would survive storms, a good radio, and a helipad. She wholeheartedly agreed, and moved down to the island as soon as the first shipment arrived.
Her first steps on the island felt like she had finally come home. She walked the path to her yurt, and saw that not much had changed. Sand had blown in, and the walls and roof needed some repair, but she figured that it was only the normal wear and tear that she had been continually fixing during her stay. The contractors who had arrived with her were very impressed with her improvised building skills. She explained to them that she had plenty of time to experiment, and eventually, it seemed she got it right. Instead of building a new building, they shored up the hut, and made it more like a yurt so that it would withstand the winds and rain a little better. They put in windows and improved the roof, but all in all it was left just about the same, and served as her house as the rest of the buildings and accommodations were placed. The radio and antenna were the first things placed, followed shortly after by the helipad. Mooring points were placed, and a dock was built a little further down the shore. Solar Panels and running water came next, followed by the rest of the compound.
Eventually it all came to be completed, and most of the builders left the island. Two men asked if they could stay on for a while- as they had grown to love the island much in the same way as she had. She agreed, knowing that the company would be nice. They put up a small yurt not unlike hers a ways down the beach, and they ran into one another every now and then during the day.
A few weeks later, she received a message from Aiden’s ship, requesting permission to dock. She agreed wholeheartedly and grabbed her hat as she walked out to the docks. She saw the tall ship coming over the horizon, its sails unfurled, and its flags blowing in the wind. The crew lowered the sails, and she could almost hear the crew singing the silly little turtle song. The tiny dinghy was lowered and the boat sped towards her. She heard an outboard motor and laughed. The men all waved to her as they came closer. They tossed the line to her and she secured it to the cleat, and welcomed them all to her island.
During the visit, they stayed in the guest house, while the Captain stayed in her house. She still constantly modified and improved it. More and more it was home. As she had, her guests fell in love with the island. Some stayed and some went. The three men stayed, two sent for their wives. The compound turned into a lively community, and became what it is today.
Chapter 1: The Plans are Made
A flickering TV blinks on in the darkness. You hear a hiss of static, then you hear a chipper voice start to talk as the static clears on screen. Pictures of crystal clear water and white sandy beaches alternate with images of old style post cards. The nearly-overly excited voice starts to extoll the virtues of each of these exotic destinations. Old Puerto Rico, Cancun, The Dominican Republic. Figi, Singapore. Just before the TV cuts out for the last time, you catch a glimpse of a postcard with an extremely beautiful beachfront, and a red and yellow banner that reads “Visit Historic Nutland” fluttering across.
Mike was sitting at his desk, head down, consulting reams of paper and comparing the figures to what he sees on the screen. He glances back and forth several times, unsure if what he’s reading could possibly be right. Grabbing a ruler he more carefully goes over the page line by line, realizing what he read with a widened eyes and a mild shock of nausea. “Oh no, this is bad,” he thought to himself as he input the number, but did not hit enter. “This has to be a mistake.” he thought, and cleared the input box on the screen.
Pushing aside his keyboard, he pulled over the stack of paper, and pulled the last weeks financial reports off the top and set them in a neat pile in front of himself. He then took the rest of the ream and bound it with a rubber band, then set it on the floor under his desk. Carefully he arranged the pages he had out in order, and started going through them line by line, rereading and tallying the figures by hand on a yellow legal pad he always had handy on his desk.
Midway down the third page, he came across something that made no sense. The line was garbled, and it wasn’t a huge discrepancy, but it was something that just didn’t belong there. “Computer Error?” he thought, as he continued down the row. There it was again, in the next page, same garbled text, same small discrepancy. Daily errors it seemed, as he went through the the pages. He highlighted the errors and set to compare them. Something just wasn’t right- “Money just doesn’t disappear, now, right?” he thought, as he paged back further.
He realized that the garbled text wasn’t just computer gobbledegook, but was some sort of code- Day, Month, Year, time. That was there, but then there was a bunch of seemingly random numbers that was the same to all the errors, if they indeed were errors. He looked at the numbers again, and set them aside for a few minutes. Mike knew if he just had a minute to think about it, he’d get it.
He pulled his backpack out from under his desk, and a small pile of papers from the top pouch, followed by his checkbook. “No time like the present,” he whispered to himself as he went through the short stack of bills. He took the sheet off the top, and went to the web address, and signed in. He then started keying in his bank account number followed by the routing number in the boxes as directed by the web page. He hit submit, and went to the next bill in the stack. Mike again went to the web page, then input the information, until he felt like a light went on over his head mid way through keying in the routing number for the second time.
He glanced at his checkbook, then at the screen, blinking his eyes just incase he was seeing things. He pushed the bills off to the side and compared the his banks routing number to the seemingly random digits on the garbled text. The last digits of the code matched the routing number exactly. He wanted to believe it was a coincidence, but the little voice in the back of his head told him he was onto something big, and that he was completely on the right trail. Grabbing a pen, he wrote down the complete text on the line in big block letters and numbers. He underlined the last digits and labeled it “Routing number?”.
He looked long and hard at the rest. He counted the number of digits in his checking account number, and underlined the ten digits in the code that lie just before the routing number. “An account? ok, then what’s the rest?” he thought as he looked at the rest of the numbers on the print out. Nine digits, and an odd parsing to how they were spaced. Two then two then two then three. When he wrote it down, he used periods to break up the spaces on the legal pad. He glanced from the print out to the legal pad, and a light went off like a flashbulb over his head. It was an IP address.
He circled those numbers, and with a furrowed brow and a frown, keyed it into his browser. “What's the worst that’ll happen” he thought, as he hit the enter key. A Red and white splash page flashed on his screen, the flag of Switzerland fading into a login screen. The two fields on the page were: “Account Number” and “Password”. Mikes eyes widened as the words “Oh shit,” tumbled out of his mouth barely audibly, sounding like the shocked gasp it was. He reached over and turned off his monitor. He pulled over the legal pad and the page of the print out he had put highlighter all over, with arrows and squiggles, and looked at the message long and hard. He knew now that someone was stealing small amounts over time, and it must have been a long time to cause the discrepancy that he finally found.
He knew what was happening now, but didn’t know who, but knew that it was easy enough to figure out. Each transaction was prefaced by a three digit user code. He looked it up and saw that was an employee he had never heard of, Sweeney Todd. After a moment of thought, he knew it was a false account, the demon butcher of Fleet Street certainly wasn’t an employee. He did know that he did not have the permissions to figure out who created this employee in the system, but he knew who could find out.
As he bundled up the papers in a yellow manila envelope, his immediate supervisor came over and saw the highlighter on the pages. “Mike, why don’t you go to lunch now, we’re not that busy,” he said slimeily with a smile that would sicken a slime mold.
“Nah, Jeff, I’ll hang here, I’m almost done anyway, and my wife made me lunch” he said as he tapped his backpack. “I’ll eat it here so I can get ahead before the weekend.”
“No Mike, go downstairs, you do too much overtime as is, and it’s throwing off the budget so, ya know, get goin lil’ trooper.” Jeff’s voice started to betray the agitation behind it as Mike continued packing stuff up.
“Okay, Okay Jeff, I get the picture,” Mike said as his mind was racing at a million miles an hour. “I’ll take my break and be extra sure to leave on time tonight, let me just grab my backpack.” Mike reached down to grab his backpack, and kicked at the powerstrip under his desk at the same time. What was usually an annoyance he hoped would be just enough distraction to get out of there with all his paperwork.
After a sweeping thrust of his foot, he hit the power switch on the extension cord power strip, turning off not only his computer but the other 8 in the row of the cube farm. A chorus of “Goddamnit Mike, Not again” and “Hey Jeff, can you get a call into IT for me, I lost what I was working on” filled the room. Jeff glared at Mike who shrugged sheepishly. “I’m sorry man, it was just an accident, I’m gonna go clear out till you get this straightened out.” A very fuming Jeff was now surrounded by irate staff members complaining about Mike and the power strip.
Mike headed down the hall, knapsack and manila folder in hand. Instead of turning down the hall to the staff kitchen, he headed down to the executive quarter. He knew only one of the Vice President’s by name, their wives were friendly, and he prayed to whatever deities he could think of that he wasn’t involved in this scam.
He looked behind himself and knocked on the door while letting himself in and closing the glass door behind himself. “Morty,” he started as the balding man looked up from his screen. “I need your help.” Mike explained the situation to Morty, and showed him the papers he had marked up. He also explained about Jeff’s freak out on the main office floor, and how he had caused a little mayhem to get out of the situation. Morty’s eyes opened wide as he heard the story, and said “I always knew Jeff was a slime ball. I just could never prove it!” He went over the information, and squinted his eyes as he was mulling a thought over.
Morty looked over the entries and keyed the employee ID code into the program, it again showed one Mr. Sweeney Todd as the employee in question, and that he had never earned a minute’s pay in the three years of his employ. A further search showed that one Jeff Hertzman was the creator of the account, approximately three years prior.
“Lets try something,” said Morty as he keyed in the IP address, and watched the same red and white splash screen go across his monitor. He next keyed in the account number. He closed his eyes and smiled, as he whispered “I bet, I wonder if this’ll work.” Morty glanced through the window behind him and squinted his eyes, before typing in a 6 digit password, which was promptly accepted, showing a very large amount in a swiss bank account. Morty promply printed out the screen and made two copies, locking one in his desk.
“Mort, how did you know the password?” Mike asked curiously.
“Man, that Jeff is the biggest Egotist in the world. It’s the licence plate off that Humvee he drives. J-E-F-R-U-L-Z.” he said, shaking his head. “Come on, let’s head into Don’s office, he’s in now. I’m sure he’s gonna get a real kick out of this.
Morty lead the way with Mike closely in tow. Mort walked straight into Don Eccelston’s office, the CEO and owner of Mittelschmertz Computer services. He plunked the papers down on the surprised man behind the desk. “What’s up Mort,” Don said in a genial tone.
“You ain’t ever gonna believe what Mike here found. Boy’s a genius,” started Morty, as he started to explain Mike’s discovery.
“Whoa, wait!” said Don in a significantly less genial tone, interrupting Morty’s story. “Mike, you found it, tell me what you saw.” Mike began to show Don step by step what he found, starting with the daily error, then the coded entry, and then how Morty figured out the password to the bank account.
“You, Michael, you are a genius.” Don then turned his attention to Morty. “Mort, right now, remove all access from Jeff.”
“Already done sir.”
“Excellent. Mike, if you would please go into the little lounge off to the side, in that door over there” Don pointed to what looked like a closet door. Mike briskly walked over to the door and opened it, showing a small dimly lit office. Don continued “Alright Mike, you’re going to sit in there, and when Jeff gets here, just hit the red button on the screen, it activates the cameras and voice recorders in this room. You’ll be able to see through the one way glass.” Don gestured to a small frame on the wall that looked like it was connected to a digital photo frame that was turned off. “Morty, if you’ll be so kind to tell Miss Clements outside to go and grab Jeff, he’s probably under Mike’s desk now.” Morty stepped to the door, and poked his head out and spoke quietly to the secretary outside. He then walked inside and sat next to Don’s large desk. Mike closed the door to the anteroom, and peered through the small window.
An extremely frazzled looking Jeff appeared through the door a few minutes later. Mike hit the button on the screen, and watched nine camera panes fill the screen, and full crisp sound pipe through the speakers. He sat down on the chair in the tiny room, and watched the goings on in the main room.
Morty sat quietly as Don greeted Jeff in the same genial tone of voice he had used to greet Mike and Morty earlier. Jeff took a deep breath and smilled in his slimy manner to Don and Mort. “Gentlemen, I think I know where this is going, I have an employee under me, Michael Muncie, who seems to have the worst morale, and is constantly fumbling at his desk. I mean just today he disabled an entire row of computers, and it’s going to take the IT department all afternoon to sort it all out.” Morty watched impassively as Don smiled and nodded encouragingly. Jeff took it as a signal to continue. “Yes, and he has been doing personal business at home, fumbling with mail and heading to random websites. I think he really is a distraction here.” He looked at Don with his beady eyes, as the balding man nodded his head.
“Yeah Jeff,” started Don, who was now smiling with his mouth but not his eyes, their piercing green drilling holes into Jeff. “I know Michael has been working on some things for me. I think he has right to be distracted, especially with what he found today.” Perspiration started to form on Jeff’s brow as Don continued. “I don’t think he’s the employee you should be after. I believe that Mr. S. Todd is the man you should be looking at.”
“M-m-mister T-t-todd?” Jeff squeaked, a flush of red color flooding his face.
“Son,” said Don, with his eyes still drilling holes into Jeff’s extremely sweaty head. “Do you want to tell me anything, or do you want me to start telling you things?” The only noise to escape Jeff was a strangled squeak.
“I know about the accounts. I know how you did it.” said Don in a disturbingly even tone. “You’re fired, and We will be escorting you out of the building now.” He pressed a small button that was inlayed into his desk. The entrance to the office opened, and two very large gentlemen filed in.
“My pay rate? That much money? Sir” stammered Mike.
“You earned it. Honest employees will always do well with me. How long have you been working for me, Mike”
“Five years, sir.”
“And, when was your last vacation”
“I took three days over a weekend when I got married three years ago, sir.” Mike replied smiling.
“Congrats, son, go take a honeymoon. On us. I’ll give you my travel agent’s number, she’s a real whiz.”
“Y-y-y-yes sir!” said Mike as he took the business card from Don.
“And son,” said Don in a genuinely happy tone of voice, “Thank you.”
...
Mike slowly walked to his desk, his head swimming with the thoughts of what he had just done, and what he had just recieved. In a fog, he sat on his chair and stared off into the distance. He sat his knapsack on the ground to the left of his chair as he always did, and focused his glaze on the monitor to his computer. “At least I can sit in peace for a few minutes” he thought, as he let his mind cycle down. Reaching for his coffee mug, he noticed that his hand was shaking, an after effect of the adrenaline still coursing through his system. He took a sip of the cold and stale brew, which helped recenter his thoughts.
“Damn. A raise! A vacation!” he said to himself as he cradled the cup in his hands now thinking of all the places he and his wife had wanted to go, but just didn’t have the time or money to. Now, he thought, now it was all different. He could give his wife the honeymoon she deserved. Mike smilled and looked around, his gaze finally landing on the gray standard office issue phone on his desk. He picked up the reciever and dialed his wife’s cell phone.
“Honey, I need a big favor from you.” he started while smiling broadly. “I need you to dress up for tonight, we have to go to a little impromptu function tonight. I promise, it won’t be too bad.” She agreed, puzzled that there was no advance knowledge of the event. “Mary, it was very spur of the moment, but now I have to run. I’ll pick you up as soon as I get out of work.”
Mike grinned broadly as he set down the reciever of the phone back on the base. It landed with a slight click as it hit bottom. Next, he opened a new window on his computer, and ordered flowers from a local florest that he would pass on the way home. A dozen long stemmed roses, deep red, just like the ones in the bouquet that Mary carried on their wedding day he mused. Next, he called his favorite restaurant- Le Pierre, and made a reservation for two that evening.
He figured that if he left early, nobody would mind. After he had settled his floral purchases, he turned off his computer, and gathered his belongings, neatly placing the travel agent’s business card in the small holder in the front of his bag. Mike made his way out the front door, smiling and waving at the security guard. Walking towards the train, he paused and looked up before going down the stairs. A small jewelry store was just ahead, passed the train entrance. He shrugged to himself thinking “What the hell?” as he walked through the revolving glass door.
The glass counter held countless shining and twinkling pieces of jewelry. A simple pair of earrings caught his eye, and he walked straight towards them. The older man behind the counter smiled and walked up to Mike. “What’s got your eye son? How can I help you?”
Mike pointed at the earrings. “Those are nice, I think my wife would love them.”
“Great choice, sonny.” said the old man. “Those are classic and will never go out of style.” he finished with a grin. A few minutes of small talk between the two men, and Mike walked out of the store with a new tiny velvet box in his knapsack. He headed down the steps to the train which seemed to be waiting for him. Stepping inside, he found a nice empty seat near the window, and truly enjoyed the ride home, watching the people go on and off.
He hopped off the train at his exit, and made his way to his car, and started driving home. He called his wife through the in dash speakerphone setup. “Honey, I’ll be there in 15 minutes!”
“Okay, Mike, I’m just putting on my shoes now, I’ll be right out,” said Mary, as she fumbled with her bracelet. She pulled her favorite red shoes out of the closet, and slid them onto her stockinged feet. She was wearing a red dress that she knew he loved to see on her, and had carefully styled her long brunette hair in a chic sophisticated chignon. Checking her appearance in the mirror, she nodded in approval before applying a single spray of her favorite perfume. She heard Mike’s car pull up front, and made her way down the stairs and into the waiting car.
Mike whisted a cat call as he saw his wife open the car door. She smiled and kissed him hello. “Okay Michael, what’s going on tonight?” she asked as her husband eyed her up and down.
They woke up late, enjoying the start of their weekend. After a long luxurious lounge in bed, they padded their way downstairs and enjoyed their coffee. Planning out their day, they decided to go visit the travel agency early before the rest of their errands. After their morning routine, they headed out to the car and drove off.
On their way, they talked about all the locales they wanted to visit. After some joking around, they decided that they wanted to go somewhere bright and sunny, with white sandy beaches, and that was nice and quiet, not a party place. Somewhere they could rest and recoup. They pulled into the parking lot, with a plan in mind.
The pulled open the door to the small office. The walls and windows were littered with travel brochures. Visit here, enjoy there, all in bright letters from all angles. The travel agent looked up from her desk and smiled. “Come, have a seat!” she said with a smile, sounding awfully like slightly hoarse mae west. “What can I do ya for, kids?” she said as she pulled her silver hair back behind her ears.
The couple looked at each other and smiled. Mike expressed the high points of what he was looking for and asked for various places and price quotes for each. The travel agent looked at them, and cocked her head to the side. “Quotes? Honey, I’m here on appointment from Don, he reserved the office for the day. He told me he’s taking care of everything, so don’t worry your little heads. We’re going to find the right vacation place for you two, okay?” Mike and Mary looked at each other with wide eyes as the travel agent pulled out a large binder, opened it to a page about three quarters of the way through and slid it across the desk to them.
“Here, start looking from this page back.” Mary and Mike started slowly paging through the book, carefully examining the full color posters and brochures. “These are the places that meet most if not all of your requirements. They all have their various high points. I’m sure one will be the right one for you.” Mary and the travel agent started chatting about the various vacation destinations.
Several pages later, Mike found himself staring at the same postcard that was on the television for just a split second last night. Behind it in a pocket was a single page advertisement printed on aged and faded paper. He pulled it from the book, and unfolded it slowly. The images inside are full color and are so clear and bright, he felt as if he could reach inside and splash in the wam crystal blue water, and he can swear that he can almost smell the rum from an umbrella drink, the salty ocean water, and the coconuts littering the shore. He can barely separate his eyes from the paper as he interrupts the conversation between his wife and the travel agent.
“Hey, Honey?” he asked while still looking deeply into the brochure. “Honey, I think I’m thinking here.” as he spread the advertisement out onto the desk, he asked in a murmur: “What do you think?”
She gasped in amazement as she is drawn into the images, her senses agog with all the sensations that were washing over her husband. Nearly imperceptabily, she nods her head while she whispers, “Yeah, I like this, I think this has to be it!” She sighed, breathing in the warm sweet scent that seemed to be eminating from the advertisents.
Grinning broadly, the travel agent nodded as she saw which advertisement they were reading. “Ahh, you’ve found that. Beautiful island that is. Surprisingly affordible, and nice quiet fun, on a nice quiet beach.” She glanced in a large calander that was sitting on her desk. “Okay, we’ll have you both heading out tomorrow morning, with a three week stay. We’ll send a limo around to pick you up at about eight.” Mike looked at her like she was crazy. “Don’s orders,” she said hastily, as she reached into her desk and pulled out a small envelope. “Don said to give you this,” she said as she handed the envelope over to Mike, and was met with another confused glance. “Another one of Don’s orders. Company credit card. Executive black and all that jazz. He wants you guys to get some new clothes, he wanted to make sure you guys were all set.
The couple stammered their thanks and appreciation. He held the black credit card dumbfoundedly for a minute before slipping it into his wallet. They said their fairwells to the travel agent, and headed out to start their opulent three week vacation.
Chapter 2: Escape
The television flickers back to life again, and images of palm trees and bright white sandy beaches litter the screen. A soft and alluring female voice was fading in and out amongst the static. “Isn’t it a good time for a vacation?” A couple holding hands is walking across the beach, the gentle breeze tousling their hair. They pause and looking at the camera waving as the voice continues. “Have no worries, be care free on vacation! Book yours today!”
The night is all but silent, the only noises that can be heard is the soft thuds of sneakers making their footfalls as a young woman runs down the block on a empty city street. Her raven hair trails behind her as she dashes around the corner, gaining precious distance on a man who is running after her sucking wind as she gets further and further away from him. She ducks down and runs into an alley, then out and down another block. Checking behind herself, she’s satisfied that she lost him for the time being, and begins to walk swiftly towards an unmarked door a bit further down the dank street. She takes one last look around before she waves her wrist at a shiny tile on the wall, and hears a click, then opens the door and ducks inside.
As soon as the door closes, it locks itself with another click. “Gotta love rfids” she thought to herself, as she sinks down to sit on the dirty steps, catching her breath in the dimly lit vestibule. She rubbed her wrist mindlessly, feeling the little lump of the chip in her wrist, thankful for its presence. It was a lot less visible than a keycard that most of the other residents had. For once losing her keys on a constant basis had paid off. The stray black cat that lived in the hallway quietly stalked to her, and slinked into her lap. She scratched behind his ears for a minute before standing and making her way to the last door on the left. The heavy metal door was secured with the same style lock as the front door. She waved her wrist in front of the sensor hidden within another shiny plaque alongside the door, and listened for the click as the door unlocked. The other doors had a green light that indicated it was open, but she had painted over hers. Nobody had to know what was going on, she thought. A mild paranoia persisted in the back of her mind, but she didn’t care-- she knew that it was what kept her alive lately.
She took off her jacket and set it down on one of the kitchen chairs and walked to the sink. Rinsing off one of the glasses, she filled it with cold water from the faucet and downed it, then refilled and drained the glass once again. She rinsed it again, then set it in the overloaded dish drainer that sat just to the right of the sink. It was never empty, she couldn’t see the point of putting dishes away that would only be reused in a matter of hours, minutes usually.
Grabbing the land line telephone that belonged to her flatmade and her bag, she digs deep for a small blue and white business card, wrinkled and folded, dirty with being mashed into the bottom of her bag. She flips it over, and dials the number scrawled on the back.
“Exodus Travel” said the chipper voice on the other end.
“Auntie?” she whispered.
“Mae?” said the slightly hoarse voice quietly, sounding very concerned.
“I need your help again.” said the young woman, who had sunk down to sit on the kitchen floor. She leaned her back against the cabinets, and closed her eyes as her Aunt spoke to her, the voice calm, quiet and controlled, but not very happy. “Yes, Auntie, I know, I should have been more careful. I tried, I swear.” said Mae, with the tone of someone very worried and very desperate. Her Aunt’s calm voice filled her ears again, and she nodded as she listened. “Yeah,” she responded, “I can meet you there. Thank you Auntie, I owe you.” The connection broke with a click.
Setting the phone back into its charger, she stood up and briskly walked to the bathroom, and grabbed the two towels that were spread out on the shower curtain rod, spreading one on the floor, and the other on the bathroom vanity, covering the sink. Next, she quickly stripped off her shirt and folded it neatly, placing it on the top of the toilet tank. She opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out the hair clippers, fumbling as she untangled the cord. As soon as it was mostly untangled, she plugged it in and slid a long guard onto the cutting end, and next turned it on, the loud buzzing filling the room. Mae took a few deep breaths, steeling her nerve as she got ready to do what needed to be done.
Les ended up in the pokey, where his mouth got him in trouble for the last time. After one too many verbal confrontations with the aryan nation, latin kings, the crips, the bloods and the black panthers, he was shivved no less than forty-seven times in the shower, with absolutely no witnesses. Even the guards didn’t see anything, which wasn’t surprising, as they had mysteriously vacated the area just minutes before. Gus always felt that Mae ratted his brother out to the cops, and in turn got him killed. He vowed vengeance on her till the end of his days, and was making good on his vow. This was the second time in three years his men had found her, and rumor has it that the bounty on her head was high enough that they all kept their eyes peeled for her. Usually she laid low enough as to not attract attention, and didn’t usually go out. She thinks he must have seen her on the way going to or coming back from the bakery she worked at late at night, baking the fresh loaves and rolls for the morning.
Chapter 3: The Prize
Gotta be in it to win it! Submit your entry form today for the grand prize of the vacation of a lifetime! One entry per household, chances of winning depend on the amount of entries, estimated to be one in a very large amount, and as usual, Terms and Conditions may Apply! Time’s running out, don’t waste another second! Send your entry today!
Lydia was running late as usual, as she slammed the front door to her apartment shut and ran down to the parking garage. She fumbled with the fob and the door clicked open just as she made it to the little black car. Opening the door, she tossed in her oversized pocketbook, and leaned in to set her coffee in the cup holder before getting in and sitting behind the steering wheel. She put the key in the ignition and prayed the vehicle would start as she turned the key.
She was rewarded with the engine turning over without any difficulty. Lydia thought that it must have been the new Miracle Oil additive she added to the fuel tank the night before. She pulled out of her spot, and drove out of the garage and onto the streets where she was greeted with very little volume on the road. She glanced at the date on her watch to make sure it indeed wasn’t a holiday or that anything strange had happened. “Still Monday,” she said to herself as she continued on her drive.
Turning on the radio, she hit the button for her favorite morning show. She listened to public radio because it was calming and educational, and as a bonus didn’t irritate her nearly as much as the radio zoo broadcasts. During one of the segments, she heard a contest being advertised by a travel agency that was sponsoring the program. Any sort of advertisement was highly unusual on the public station, but this one really caught her ear. As she stopped at a red light, “Vacation of a lifetime” caught her attention, and she grabbed the pen she always kept in the spare cupholder and scrawled the web address for the contest on the back of her hand. A few moments later she found herself chewing on her finger mid day dream while driving. As soon as she realized what she was doing and took her finger out of her mouth grumbling at herself for falling back into the bad habit she had been working so hard to break. She thought that maybe one day she’d have a manicure that lasted more than a day.
Just a few minutes later, she pulled into the employee lot at work, and started her usual process of making a few laps before finding a spot. As she pulled around the most coveted spots nearest the entrance, she saw someone pulling out, and put on her signal flasher while whooping in excitement. “I’m actually getting in on time today,” she mused to herself as she pulled into the spot and shut off the car. Collecting her possessions, she climbed out of the car, stowed her keys in her giant pocketbook and shut the door. For the sake of superstition, she patted the top of the old car and told it “Good car! You rest now, I’ll be back later!”
She walked in through the large glass revolving door, and started fumbling through her enormous pocketbook to find her identification card. Much to her surprize, it was right there on top of the countless things in there. She fished it out and clipped it to her shirt, and started power walking to the card reader on the far side of the hallway. She swipes in exactly three minutes early with a smile, “Just in the nick of time!” she thought to herself as she made her way onto the waiting elevator, and pushed the button for her floor.
The elevator shot straight up to her floor, and she exited the car as the doors opened. Lydia made her way to her desk in the small office in the corner she shared with three other people. Really, she didn’t consider it an office, but an extension of the cubical farm outside. Today, she got in early enough to set her things down neatly and begin to put the things that she needed to do in order. She set her coffee mug well to the back of the desk, almost behind her computer monitor knowing that this was the least likely place for her to spill and make a mess all over everything.
Without much ado, she starts to go through the stack she set for herself. It seemed impossibly large even with her orginization and seperation, so she started to work quickly. Every time she thought she was about to make some progress, she found an issue that needed to be dealt with urgently. She was hoping to be able to get to go out for lunch today, but despite her best attempts to get through the mountain of paperwork her entire desk was overwhelmed with papers and charts. As time started to roll by, one by one each of the three other people in the office got up and headed down to lunch. She glanced at her watch and sighed, that this was going to be one of those days after all as she started to look around and found the office floor empty.
She glanced at her watch again and the hasty scrawl on the back of her hand caught her eye the moment after she looked at her watch. Turning her hand back over she read the name of the website she had scribbled down in the car. “What the heck,” she said to herself as she pushed the pile neatly off to the side. Reaching for her coffee cup, she found that it was empty, then glanced at the coffee pot in the corner and was pleased to see that it was on and still half full. She got up and refilled her mug, thinking that things were finally looking up again.
Returning to her desk, she opened a new window on her computer and entered in the same address that was on the back of her hand. It brought up a simple but pretty blue and white travel agency website with a bright banner that when clicked led Lydia to the contest entry form. Reading it over, she began to fill out all the sections. As she got to the end, she saw there was one last line that gave her pause. “(Optional) Tell me why you want this vacation.”
She paused for a long moment before she answered it. “Today is starting to look up, what do I got to lose?” she quickly typed in with a laugh. Rechecking all her answers, she makes sure her email address is typed in correctly and very satisfiedly clicks the mouse. Taking a long sip of coffee from her mug, she gets back to work while daydreaming of exotic locales.
Quickly, she starts powering through the papers, finding the usual mistakes and correcting them easily. The imagery in her head of winning the fabulous vacation was so vivid she could almost swear she could smell the rum drinks and coconut suntanning oil mixed with the salty sea air on the beach. Her co workers came back in one by one, and didn’t give Lydia a second glance as they resumed their work.
The end of the day rolls on along, and a very surprised Lydia sees that her entire desk is empty. Not a single paper was in her inbox, her outbox was cleared, and nothing was straggling behind like on a normal day. She nodded to herself impressed as she was in no way expecting to get done on time today. As she looked around, she realized that she was ahead of the game for the first time in weeks. She turned to her computer to log off, but pauses as she hears the computer make the new email sound.
Clicking on the mailbox icon, she watches her inbox pop up. She had one new email, from the travel agent. the subject line read: “Attn: Lydia, re: vacation contest” Intrigued, she opened the email, expecting a “Thank you for entering” message.
Instead, as it opened, she was greeted with the top line. She gasped as she read: “Congratulations, First Prize winner!” as she continued to read, she saw that it requested that she go to the travel agency at her earliest convenience, no appointment needed. The last line read “We’re waiting for you!”
Lydia couldn’t believe her good fortune- today had just been the best day she had the pleasure to enjoy in what seemed like years. As she printed out the email, she realized that since she was ahead with her work, it’d be no problem to take the next day off. She gathered her things, placed the printed email neatly in her pocketbook and practically skipped out the door, the happiest she’d been in months.
A flickering TV blinks on in the darkness. You hear a hiss of static, then you hear a chipper voice start to talk as the static clears on screen. Pictures of crystal clear water and white sandy beaches alternate with images of old style post cards. The nearly-overly excited voice starts to extoll the virtues of each of these exotic destinations. Old Puerto Rico, Cancun, The Dominican Republic. Figi, Singapore. Just before the TV cuts out for the last time, you catch a glimpse of a postcard with an extremely beautiful beachfront, and a red and yellow banner that reads “Visit Historic Nutland” fluttering across.
Mike was sitting at his desk, head down, consulting reams of paper and comparing the figures to what he sees on the screen. He glances back and forth several times, unsure if what he’s reading could possibly be right. Grabbing a ruler he more carefully goes over the page line by line, realizing what he read with a widened eyes and a mild shock of nausea. “Oh no, this is bad,” he thought to himself as he input the number, but did not hit enter. “This has to be a mistake.” he thought, and cleared the input box on the screen.
Pushing aside his keyboard, he pulled over the stack of paper, and pulled the last weeks financial reports off the top and set them in a neat pile in front of himself. He then took the rest of the ream and bound it with a rubber band, then set it on the floor under his desk. Carefully he arranged the pages he had out in order, and started going through them line by line, rereading and tallying the figures by hand on a yellow legal pad he always had handy on his desk.
Midway down the third page, he came across something that made no sense. The line was garbled, and it wasn’t a huge discrepancy, but it was something that just didn’t belong there. “Computer Error?” he thought, as he continued down the row. There it was again, in the next page, same garbled text, same small discrepancy. Daily errors it seemed, as he went through the the pages. He highlighted the errors and set to compare them. Something just wasn’t right- “Money just doesn’t disappear, now, right?” he thought, as he paged back further.
He realized that the garbled text wasn’t just computer gobbledegook, but was some sort of code- Day, Month, Year, time. That was there, but then there was a bunch of seemingly random numbers that was the same to all the errors, if they indeed were errors. He looked at the numbers again, and set them aside for a few minutes. Mike knew if he just had a minute to think about it, he’d get it.
He pulled his backpack out from under his desk, and a small pile of papers from the top pouch, followed by his checkbook. “No time like the present,” he whispered to himself as he went through the short stack of bills. He took the sheet off the top, and went to the web address, and signed in. He then started keying in his bank account number followed by the routing number in the boxes as directed by the web page. He hit submit, and went to the next bill in the stack. Mike again went to the web page, then input the information, until he felt like a light went on over his head mid way through keying in the routing number for the second time.
He glanced at his checkbook, then at the screen, blinking his eyes just incase he was seeing things. He pushed the bills off to the side and compared the his banks routing number to the seemingly random digits on the garbled text. The last digits of the code matched the routing number exactly. He wanted to believe it was a coincidence, but the little voice in the back of his head told him he was onto something big, and that he was completely on the right trail. Grabbing a pen, he wrote down the complete text on the line in big block letters and numbers. He underlined the last digits and labeled it “Routing number?”.
He looked long and hard at the rest. He counted the number of digits in his checking account number, and underlined the ten digits in the code that lie just before the routing number. “An account? ok, then what’s the rest?” he thought as he looked at the rest of the numbers on the print out. Nine digits, and an odd parsing to how they were spaced. Two then two then two then three. When he wrote it down, he used periods to break up the spaces on the legal pad. He glanced from the print out to the legal pad, and a light went off like a flashbulb over his head. It was an IP address.
He circled those numbers, and with a furrowed brow and a frown, keyed it into his browser. “What's the worst that’ll happen” he thought, as he hit the enter key. A Red and white splash page flashed on his screen, the flag of Switzerland fading into a login screen. The two fields on the page were: “Account Number” and “Password”. Mikes eyes widened as the words “Oh shit,” tumbled out of his mouth barely audibly, sounding like the shocked gasp it was. He reached over and turned off his monitor. He pulled over the legal pad and the page of the print out he had put highlighter all over, with arrows and squiggles, and looked at the message long and hard. He knew now that someone was stealing small amounts over time, and it must have been a long time to cause the discrepancy that he finally found.
He knew what was happening now, but didn’t know who, but knew that it was easy enough to figure out. Each transaction was prefaced by a three digit user code. He looked it up and saw that was an employee he had never heard of, Sweeney Todd. After a moment of thought, he knew it was a false account, the demon butcher of Fleet Street certainly wasn’t an employee. He did know that he did not have the permissions to figure out who created this employee in the system, but he knew who could find out.
As he bundled up the papers in a yellow manila envelope, his immediate supervisor came over and saw the highlighter on the pages. “Mike, why don’t you go to lunch now, we’re not that busy,” he said slimeily with a smile that would sicken a slime mold.
“Nah, Jeff, I’ll hang here, I’m almost done anyway, and my wife made me lunch” he said as he tapped his backpack. “I’ll eat it here so I can get ahead before the weekend.”
“No Mike, go downstairs, you do too much overtime as is, and it’s throwing off the budget so, ya know, get goin lil’ trooper.” Jeff’s voice started to betray the agitation behind it as Mike continued packing stuff up.
“Okay, Okay Jeff, I get the picture,” Mike said as his mind was racing at a million miles an hour. “I’ll take my break and be extra sure to leave on time tonight, let me just grab my backpack.” Mike reached down to grab his backpack, and kicked at the powerstrip under his desk at the same time. What was usually an annoyance he hoped would be just enough distraction to get out of there with all his paperwork.
After a sweeping thrust of his foot, he hit the power switch on the extension cord power strip, turning off not only his computer but the other 8 in the row of the cube farm. A chorus of “Goddamnit Mike, Not again” and “Hey Jeff, can you get a call into IT for me, I lost what I was working on” filled the room. Jeff glared at Mike who shrugged sheepishly. “I’m sorry man, it was just an accident, I’m gonna go clear out till you get this straightened out.” A very fuming Jeff was now surrounded by irate staff members complaining about Mike and the power strip.
Mike headed down the hall, knapsack and manila folder in hand. Instead of turning down the hall to the staff kitchen, he headed down to the executive quarter. He knew only one of the Vice President’s by name, their wives were friendly, and he prayed to whatever deities he could think of that he wasn’t involved in this scam.
He looked behind himself and knocked on the door while letting himself in and closing the glass door behind himself. “Morty,” he started as the balding man looked up from his screen. “I need your help.” Mike explained the situation to Morty, and showed him the papers he had marked up. He also explained about Jeff’s freak out on the main office floor, and how he had caused a little mayhem to get out of the situation. Morty’s eyes opened wide as he heard the story, and said “I always knew Jeff was a slime ball. I just could never prove it!” He went over the information, and squinted his eyes as he was mulling a thought over.
Morty looked over the entries and keyed the employee ID code into the program, it again showed one Mr. Sweeney Todd as the employee in question, and that he had never earned a minute’s pay in the three years of his employ. A further search showed that one Jeff Hertzman was the creator of the account, approximately three years prior.
“Lets try something,” said Morty as he keyed in the IP address, and watched the same red and white splash screen go across his monitor. He next keyed in the account number. He closed his eyes and smiled, as he whispered “I bet, I wonder if this’ll work.” Morty glanced through the window behind him and squinted his eyes, before typing in a 6 digit password, which was promptly accepted, showing a very large amount in a swiss bank account. Morty promply printed out the screen and made two copies, locking one in his desk.
“Mort, how did you know the password?” Mike asked curiously.
“Man, that Jeff is the biggest Egotist in the world. It’s the licence plate off that Humvee he drives. J-E-F-R-U-L-Z.” he said, shaking his head. “Come on, let’s head into Don’s office, he’s in now. I’m sure he’s gonna get a real kick out of this.
Morty lead the way with Mike closely in tow. Mort walked straight into Don Eccelston’s office, the CEO and owner of Mittelschmertz Computer services. He plunked the papers down on the surprised man behind the desk. “What’s up Mort,” Don said in a genial tone.
“You ain’t ever gonna believe what Mike here found. Boy’s a genius,” started Morty, as he started to explain Mike’s discovery.
“Whoa, wait!” said Don in a significantly less genial tone, interrupting Morty’s story. “Mike, you found it, tell me what you saw.” Mike began to show Don step by step what he found, starting with the daily error, then the coded entry, and then how Morty figured out the password to the bank account.
“You, Michael, you are a genius.” Don then turned his attention to Morty. “Mort, right now, remove all access from Jeff.”
“Already done sir.”
“Excellent. Mike, if you would please go into the little lounge off to the side, in that door over there” Don pointed to what looked like a closet door. Mike briskly walked over to the door and opened it, showing a small dimly lit office. Don continued “Alright Mike, you’re going to sit in there, and when Jeff gets here, just hit the red button on the screen, it activates the cameras and voice recorders in this room. You’ll be able to see through the one way glass.” Don gestured to a small frame on the wall that looked like it was connected to a digital photo frame that was turned off. “Morty, if you’ll be so kind to tell Miss Clements outside to go and grab Jeff, he’s probably under Mike’s desk now.” Morty stepped to the door, and poked his head out and spoke quietly to the secretary outside. He then walked inside and sat next to Don’s large desk. Mike closed the door to the anteroom, and peered through the small window.
An extremely frazzled looking Jeff appeared through the door a few minutes later. Mike hit the button on the screen, and watched nine camera panes fill the screen, and full crisp sound pipe through the speakers. He sat down on the chair in the tiny room, and watched the goings on in the main room.
Morty sat quietly as Don greeted Jeff in the same genial tone of voice he had used to greet Mike and Morty earlier. Jeff took a deep breath and smilled in his slimy manner to Don and Mort. “Gentlemen, I think I know where this is going, I have an employee under me, Michael Muncie, who seems to have the worst morale, and is constantly fumbling at his desk. I mean just today he disabled an entire row of computers, and it’s going to take the IT department all afternoon to sort it all out.” Morty watched impassively as Don smiled and nodded encouragingly. Jeff took it as a signal to continue. “Yes, and he has been doing personal business at home, fumbling with mail and heading to random websites. I think he really is a distraction here.” He looked at Don with his beady eyes, as the balding man nodded his head.
“Yeah Jeff,” started Don, who was now smiling with his mouth but not his eyes, their piercing green drilling holes into Jeff. “I know Michael has been working on some things for me. I think he has right to be distracted, especially with what he found today.” Perspiration started to form on Jeff’s brow as Don continued. “I don’t think he’s the employee you should be after. I believe that Mr. S. Todd is the man you should be looking at.”
“M-m-mister T-t-todd?” Jeff squeaked, a flush of red color flooding his face.
“Son,” said Don, with his eyes still drilling holes into Jeff’s extremely sweaty head. “Do you want to tell me anything, or do you want me to start telling you things?” The only noise to escape Jeff was a strangled squeak.
“I know about the accounts. I know how you did it.” said Don in a disturbingly even tone. “You’re fired, and We will be escorting you out of the building now.” He pressed a small button that was inlayed into his desk. The entrance to the office opened, and two very large gentlemen filed in.
“Buster, Moishe, please if you will, escort Mr. Hertzman to the lobby, there will be a car waiting there to take him home. He may not stop by his desk on the way out. We will sent him his personal belongings at home later today, after the detectives finish their investigation.” The two men grunted and nodded. Buster tapped Jeff on the shoulder and gestured to the door. Jeff walked in between the two giants down the hallway and onto the executive elevator downstairs.
Don stretched as Morty walked to the door and closed it. “Okay Mike, you can come out now. We got more to talk about,” said Don as he gestured to the chair next to the one Jeff had been sitting in. “Don’t sit where that slimeball was sitting, he nearly destroyed that nice leather chair with his nasty perspiration. I’m going to have to send it o ut to be cleaned now.” said Don with a look of bemused disgust on his face.
“Mike, I’m not going to lie, we never really noticed the money gone, but its not an insignifigant amount. I can’t stand people stealing or lying to me. I think what we’re going to do is change how the money is moved, and add it to your pay rate.” Mikes eyes went wide with shock.“My pay rate? That much money? Sir” stammered Mike.
“You earned it. Honest employees will always do well with me. How long have you been working for me, Mike”
“Five years, sir.”
“And, when was your last vacation”
“I took three days over a weekend when I got married three years ago, sir.” Mike replied smiling.
“Congrats, son, go take a honeymoon. On us. I’ll give you my travel agent’s number, she’s a real whiz.”
“Y-y-y-yes sir!” said Mike as he took the business card from Don.
“And son,” said Don in a genuinely happy tone of voice, “Thank you.”
...
Mike slowly walked to his desk, his head swimming with the thoughts of what he had just done, and what he had just recieved. In a fog, he sat on his chair and stared off into the distance. He sat his knapsack on the ground to the left of his chair as he always did, and focused his glaze on the monitor to his computer. “At least I can sit in peace for a few minutes” he thought, as he let his mind cycle down. Reaching for his coffee mug, he noticed that his hand was shaking, an after effect of the adrenaline still coursing through his system. He took a sip of the cold and stale brew, which helped recenter his thoughts.
“Damn. A raise! A vacation!” he said to himself as he cradled the cup in his hands now thinking of all the places he and his wife had wanted to go, but just didn’t have the time or money to. Now, he thought, now it was all different. He could give his wife the honeymoon she deserved. Mike smilled and looked around, his gaze finally landing on the gray standard office issue phone on his desk. He picked up the reciever and dialed his wife’s cell phone.
“Honey, I need a big favor from you.” he started while smiling broadly. “I need you to dress up for tonight, we have to go to a little impromptu function tonight. I promise, it won’t be too bad.” She agreed, puzzled that there was no advance knowledge of the event. “Mary, it was very spur of the moment, but now I have to run. I’ll pick you up as soon as I get out of work.”
Mike grinned broadly as he set down the reciever of the phone back on the base. It landed with a slight click as it hit bottom. Next, he opened a new window on his computer, and ordered flowers from a local florest that he would pass on the way home. A dozen long stemmed roses, deep red, just like the ones in the bouquet that Mary carried on their wedding day he mused. Next, he called his favorite restaurant- Le Pierre, and made a reservation for two that evening.
He figured that if he left early, nobody would mind. After he had settled his floral purchases, he turned off his computer, and gathered his belongings, neatly placing the travel agent’s business card in the small holder in the front of his bag. Mike made his way out the front door, smiling and waving at the security guard. Walking towards the train, he paused and looked up before going down the stairs. A small jewelry store was just ahead, passed the train entrance. He shrugged to himself thinking “What the hell?” as he walked through the revolving glass door.
The glass counter held countless shining and twinkling pieces of jewelry. A simple pair of earrings caught his eye, and he walked straight towards them. The older man behind the counter smiled and walked up to Mike. “What’s got your eye son? How can I help you?”
Mike pointed at the earrings. “Those are nice, I think my wife would love them.”
“Great choice, sonny.” said the old man. “Those are classic and will never go out of style.” he finished with a grin. A few minutes of small talk between the two men, and Mike walked out of the store with a new tiny velvet box in his knapsack. He headed down the steps to the train which seemed to be waiting for him. Stepping inside, he found a nice empty seat near the window, and truly enjoyed the ride home, watching the people go on and off.
He hopped off the train at his exit, and made his way to his car, and started driving home. He called his wife through the in dash speakerphone setup. “Honey, I’ll be there in 15 minutes!”
“Okay, Mike, I’m just putting on my shoes now, I’ll be right out,” said Mary, as she fumbled with her bracelet. She pulled her favorite red shoes out of the closet, and slid them onto her stockinged feet. She was wearing a red dress that she knew he loved to see on her, and had carefully styled her long brunette hair in a chic sophisticated chignon. Checking her appearance in the mirror, she nodded in approval before applying a single spray of her favorite perfume. She heard Mike’s car pull up front, and made her way down the stairs and into the waiting car.
Mike whisted a cat call as he saw his wife open the car door. She smiled and kissed him hello. “Okay Michael, what’s going on tonight?” she asked as her husband eyed her up and down.
“Just a celebration dinner- employee of the month nonsense.” he said noncomittally, hoping that she wouldn’t catch on to his planned surprise. She nodded and sat back comfortably. He fumbled with the radio as he drove towards the restaurant, eventually settling on a station they usually enjoyed. They sang along with the music until they pulled up to the front of the restaurant.
Mike put the car in park, and handed the keys to the waiting valet, then walked around the car, and helped his wife to stand. All eyes were on her, her demure expression and stunning dress capturing the attention of all passers by. They made their way into the restaurant, and Mike spoke to the hostess who seated them right in the front window.
“Michael, this is an awful small table” said Mary questioningly. “Who else is coming.”
He grinned broadly as he took her hand in his. “Just the best employee the company and his stunning wife.” She looked at him with head tilted slightly to the side. Mike started to recount the days events between ordering wine and their meal. Mary was such a great listener he thought. She widened her eyes and gasped or shook her head and laughed at just the right moments. He loved telling her stories of how his day went.
“So,” Mike said, coming to the end of his days story, “after they escorted Jeff out, Mr. Eccelston gave me an amazing raise, and vacation time that I’m to use as soon as possible. He gave me the card to his personal travel agent, and told me to give her a call in the morning.”
He fumbled around in his jacket pocket as he continued. “Also, I found these on the way home, I thought you’d get a kick out of them.” Mike pulled out the tiny box and sat it on the table just ahead of her dessert plate. She raised an eyebrow as she picked up the box. “Open it!” he whispered with a smile.
She slowly opened the box and saw the glinting earrings catching all the light, reflecting tiny rainbows on the table. “Oh my goodness, Mike, these are beautiful.” she said, as she admired them, turning the box every which way to catch the light. She finally set down the box, and put on the earrings, screwing on the backs securely on the platinum posts. They continued to glint and sparkle, tiny rainbows shining on her hair.
They finished their meal and made their way home, singing along to the radio, every song one of their favorites. He held her hand as they made their way inside, and followed her up the stairs. They changed out of their clothing and into their soft pyjamas, and sat back on the bed, both stuffed and sated from their wonderful meal out. She sat with her feet in his lap, with Mike rubbing her feet. They had flicked on the television in their every night routine, relaxing and enjoying the quiet evening.
They enjoyed the tv, watching the late night comedy show. They snuggled back into the covers and relaxed, really enjoying each others company. Eventually, as they were nodding off, it came to a commercial break. It was for a travel agent, with pictures of exotic locals alternating with old timey post cards. Visit beautiful San Juan, enjoy exotic thailand, Brazilian Carnivale flashed on bright banners across the screen. The commercial ended abruptly but not before a the last postcard came to grace the screen. Crystal blue waters and white sandy beaches with a red and yellow banner that read: “Visit Historic Nutland!”They woke up late, enjoying the start of their weekend. After a long luxurious lounge in bed, they padded their way downstairs and enjoyed their coffee. Planning out their day, they decided to go visit the travel agency early before the rest of their errands. After their morning routine, they headed out to the car and drove off.
On their way, they talked about all the locales they wanted to visit. After some joking around, they decided that they wanted to go somewhere bright and sunny, with white sandy beaches, and that was nice and quiet, not a party place. Somewhere they could rest and recoup. They pulled into the parking lot, with a plan in mind.
The pulled open the door to the small office. The walls and windows were littered with travel brochures. Visit here, enjoy there, all in bright letters from all angles. The travel agent looked up from her desk and smiled. “Come, have a seat!” she said with a smile, sounding awfully like slightly hoarse mae west. “What can I do ya for, kids?” she said as she pulled her silver hair back behind her ears.
The couple looked at each other and smiled. Mike expressed the high points of what he was looking for and asked for various places and price quotes for each. The travel agent looked at them, and cocked her head to the side. “Quotes? Honey, I’m here on appointment from Don, he reserved the office for the day. He told me he’s taking care of everything, so don’t worry your little heads. We’re going to find the right vacation place for you two, okay?” Mike and Mary looked at each other with wide eyes as the travel agent pulled out a large binder, opened it to a page about three quarters of the way through and slid it across the desk to them.
“Here, start looking from this page back.” Mary and Mike started slowly paging through the book, carefully examining the full color posters and brochures. “These are the places that meet most if not all of your requirements. They all have their various high points. I’m sure one will be the right one for you.” Mary and the travel agent started chatting about the various vacation destinations.
Several pages later, Mike found himself staring at the same postcard that was on the television for just a split second last night. Behind it in a pocket was a single page advertisement printed on aged and faded paper. He pulled it from the book, and unfolded it slowly. The images inside are full color and are so clear and bright, he felt as if he could reach inside and splash in the wam crystal blue water, and he can swear that he can almost smell the rum from an umbrella drink, the salty ocean water, and the coconuts littering the shore. He can barely separate his eyes from the paper as he interrupts the conversation between his wife and the travel agent.
“Hey, Honey?” he asked while still looking deeply into the brochure. “Honey, I think I’m thinking here.” as he spread the advertisement out onto the desk, he asked in a murmur: “What do you think?”
She gasped in amazement as she is drawn into the images, her senses agog with all the sensations that were washing over her husband. Nearly imperceptabily, she nods her head while she whispers, “Yeah, I like this, I think this has to be it!” She sighed, breathing in the warm sweet scent that seemed to be eminating from the advertisents.
Grinning broadly, the travel agent nodded as she saw which advertisement they were reading. “Ahh, you’ve found that. Beautiful island that is. Surprisingly affordible, and nice quiet fun, on a nice quiet beach.” She glanced in a large calander that was sitting on her desk. “Okay, we’ll have you both heading out tomorrow morning, with a three week stay. We’ll send a limo around to pick you up at about eight.” Mike looked at her like she was crazy. “Don’s orders,” she said hastily, as she reached into her desk and pulled out a small envelope. “Don said to give you this,” she said as she handed the envelope over to Mike, and was met with another confused glance. “Another one of Don’s orders. Company credit card. Executive black and all that jazz. He wants you guys to get some new clothes, he wanted to make sure you guys were all set.
The couple stammered their thanks and appreciation. He held the black credit card dumbfoundedly for a minute before slipping it into his wallet. They said their fairwells to the travel agent, and headed out to start their opulent three week vacation.
Chapter 2: Escape
The television flickers back to life again, and images of palm trees and bright white sandy beaches litter the screen. A soft and alluring female voice was fading in and out amongst the static. “Isn’t it a good time for a vacation?” A couple holding hands is walking across the beach, the gentle breeze tousling their hair. They pause and looking at the camera waving as the voice continues. “Have no worries, be care free on vacation! Book yours today!”
The night is all but silent, the only noises that can be heard is the soft thuds of sneakers making their footfalls as a young woman runs down the block on a empty city street. Her raven hair trails behind her as she dashes around the corner, gaining precious distance on a man who is running after her sucking wind as she gets further and further away from him. She ducks down and runs into an alley, then out and down another block. Checking behind herself, she’s satisfied that she lost him for the time being, and begins to walk swiftly towards an unmarked door a bit further down the dank street. She takes one last look around before she waves her wrist at a shiny tile on the wall, and hears a click, then opens the door and ducks inside.
As soon as the door closes, it locks itself with another click. “Gotta love rfids” she thought to herself, as she sinks down to sit on the dirty steps, catching her breath in the dimly lit vestibule. She rubbed her wrist mindlessly, feeling the little lump of the chip in her wrist, thankful for its presence. It was a lot less visible than a keycard that most of the other residents had. For once losing her keys on a constant basis had paid off. The stray black cat that lived in the hallway quietly stalked to her, and slinked into her lap. She scratched behind his ears for a minute before standing and making her way to the last door on the left. The heavy metal door was secured with the same style lock as the front door. She waved her wrist in front of the sensor hidden within another shiny plaque alongside the door, and listened for the click as the door unlocked. The other doors had a green light that indicated it was open, but she had painted over hers. Nobody had to know what was going on, she thought. A mild paranoia persisted in the back of her mind, but she didn’t care-- she knew that it was what kept her alive lately.
She took off her jacket and set it down on one of the kitchen chairs and walked to the sink. Rinsing off one of the glasses, she filled it with cold water from the faucet and downed it, then refilled and drained the glass once again. She rinsed it again, then set it in the overloaded dish drainer that sat just to the right of the sink. It was never empty, she couldn’t see the point of putting dishes away that would only be reused in a matter of hours, minutes usually.
Grabbing the land line telephone that belonged to her flatmade and her bag, she digs deep for a small blue and white business card, wrinkled and folded, dirty with being mashed into the bottom of her bag. She flips it over, and dials the number scrawled on the back.
“Exodus Travel” said the chipper voice on the other end.
“Auntie?” she whispered.
“Mae?” said the slightly hoarse voice quietly, sounding very concerned.
“I need your help again.” said the young woman, who had sunk down to sit on the kitchen floor. She leaned her back against the cabinets, and closed her eyes as her Aunt spoke to her, the voice calm, quiet and controlled, but not very happy. “Yes, Auntie, I know, I should have been more careful. I tried, I swear.” said Mae, with the tone of someone very worried and very desperate. Her Aunt’s calm voice filled her ears again, and she nodded as she listened. “Yeah,” she responded, “I can meet you there. Thank you Auntie, I owe you.” The connection broke with a click.
Setting the phone back into its charger, she stood up and briskly walked to the bathroom, and grabbed the two towels that were spread out on the shower curtain rod, spreading one on the floor, and the other on the bathroom vanity, covering the sink. Next, she quickly stripped off her shirt and folded it neatly, placing it on the top of the toilet tank. She opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out the hair clippers, fumbling as she untangled the cord. As soon as it was mostly untangled, she plugged it in and slid a long guard onto the cutting end, and next turned it on, the loud buzzing filling the room. Mae took a few deep breaths, steeling her nerve as she got ready to do what needed to be done.
Reaching back she gathered her long dark hair and pulled it back a bit from her head. With another deep breath, she started passing the vibrating clippers through her long mane of hair, the long strands falling onto towel neatly laying at her feet. After several minutes, she had hacked her hair into a fairly presentable messy pixie style. Looking in the mirror, she barely recognised herself. Dusting herself off, she gathered the towels and walked them to the large trash bin in the kitchen and shook all the hair into the can.
Returning to the bathroom, she washed off all the traces of makeup on her face. Her eyebrows became faint, her eyes small, her lips pale. Pale freckles speckled her cheeks and forehead. Dark circles ringed her puffy eyes. With a final glance in the mirror, she nodded her head, knowing that anyone beyond her mother or best friend would be able to identify her from a distance. She grabbed the shirt from the tank of the toilet and made her way into the small bedroom in the back. Passing her hand through her hair, she felt more than a little sadness, she already missed her long hair, but knew it had to go, as it was her most identifiable feature.
She grabbed a black knapsack and started to pack it with essentials she knew she’d need for a long weekend out of town. A few shirts, a spare pair of jeans, some underwear and a couple pairs of socks. Looking around, she was sad to leave this apartment. She liked this town, and liked her roommate, which she thought would be a near impossible thing to do at first. Her roommate was a quiet mousy girl, who padded around in thick socks. Sometimes Mae thought if she said five words a day while in the apartment, it was a lot. Eventually, though, she learned that her roommate was incredibly smart, and wise beyond her years. She always was good for advice, and was a great listener, and an excellent shoulder to cry on. Mae would miss her now that she had to leave.
Mae was sad as she walked around her room, putting her few posessions in order. She was angry that Gus’s men found her again. “Will they ever just leave me alone?” she thought, shaking her head and willing herself not to cry. Gus was a meat-head mafioso from her old neighborhood. His brother Les had a superiority complex and a pretty severe drug problem. He also thought he was God’s gift to women, especially Mae, who he had a special liking for. Mae however had no desire to be with this man, who was nothing but trouble.
Eventually, this trouble caught up with him, as he fell victim to what Mae called an act of sheer stupidity. He had attempted to sell drugs to a cop posing as a prostitute. His defence was that she had no line of men around her, so she must be “desperate or hard up for something.” Mae had been in the area and watched the whole thing go down from the laundromat across the street. She wasn’t particularly shocked to note that Les didn’t notice the fairly obvious steak out van on the corner, satellite dish and all. Les ended up in the pokey, where his mouth got him in trouble for the last time. After one too many verbal confrontations with the aryan nation, latin kings, the crips, the bloods and the black panthers, he was shivved no less than forty-seven times in the shower, with absolutely no witnesses. Even the guards didn’t see anything, which wasn’t surprising, as they had mysteriously vacated the area just minutes before. Gus always felt that Mae ratted his brother out to the cops, and in turn got him killed. He vowed vengeance on her till the end of his days, and was making good on his vow. This was the second time in three years his men had found her, and rumor has it that the bounty on her head was high enough that they all kept their eyes peeled for her. Usually she laid low enough as to not attract attention, and didn’t usually go out. She thinks he must have seen her on the way going to or coming back from the bakery she worked at late at night, baking the fresh loaves and rolls for the morning.
After one last look around the room, she changed her clothes- a loose pair of jeans held up with a belt, a loose tee shirt, and a baggy hoodie served to hide her curvy figure. A well worn pair of sneakers completed her ensemble, before she put them on, she slid her important papers, some money, and her identification into the left shoe, under the insole as she had always done. She felt it was easier than remembering to take a purse everywhere, and Gods forbid if anything happened to her, they’d have an easier time identifying her body. Sliding her shoes on, she walked back into the main room.
She looked in the full length mirror on the back of her room door. She knew nobody would identify her at first glance, and sometimes just that amount of time would be enough to escape into the masses in the city. Grabbing a pad that her roommate always kept on the counter, she scrawled out a quick note apologising about the mess, and that she had to lay low and disappear for a while. Mae knew she’d understand, it wasn’t the first time this dingy little apartment got used as a safe house.
Taking the knapsack off the floor she swung it over her shoulders and shrugged it into a comfortable position. Walking towards the front door, she leaned forward and checked the peephole to make sure the hallway was clear. Satisfied with the view, she ran her wrist over the sensor, and walked down the hallway for the last time. Glancing at the small bank of monitors set into the wall near the door, she made sure the coast was clear before she opened the door and quickly walked down the block to the corner where a black town car was waiting for her. She ducked inside and the car sped off, making it’s way to the airport.Chapter 3: The Prize
Gotta be in it to win it! Submit your entry form today for the grand prize of the vacation of a lifetime! One entry per household, chances of winning depend on the amount of entries, estimated to be one in a very large amount, and as usual, Terms and Conditions may Apply! Time’s running out, don’t waste another second! Send your entry today!
Lydia was running late as usual, as she slammed the front door to her apartment shut and ran down to the parking garage. She fumbled with the fob and the door clicked open just as she made it to the little black car. Opening the door, she tossed in her oversized pocketbook, and leaned in to set her coffee in the cup holder before getting in and sitting behind the steering wheel. She put the key in the ignition and prayed the vehicle would start as she turned the key.
She was rewarded with the engine turning over without any difficulty. Lydia thought that it must have been the new Miracle Oil additive she added to the fuel tank the night before. She pulled out of her spot, and drove out of the garage and onto the streets where she was greeted with very little volume on the road. She glanced at the date on her watch to make sure it indeed wasn’t a holiday or that anything strange had happened. “Still Monday,” she said to herself as she continued on her drive.
Turning on the radio, she hit the button for her favorite morning show. She listened to public radio because it was calming and educational, and as a bonus didn’t irritate her nearly as much as the radio zoo broadcasts. During one of the segments, she heard a contest being advertised by a travel agency that was sponsoring the program. Any sort of advertisement was highly unusual on the public station, but this one really caught her ear. As she stopped at a red light, “Vacation of a lifetime” caught her attention, and she grabbed the pen she always kept in the spare cupholder and scrawled the web address for the contest on the back of her hand. A few moments later she found herself chewing on her finger mid day dream while driving. As soon as she realized what she was doing and took her finger out of her mouth grumbling at herself for falling back into the bad habit she had been working so hard to break. She thought that maybe one day she’d have a manicure that lasted more than a day.
Just a few minutes later, she pulled into the employee lot at work, and started her usual process of making a few laps before finding a spot. As she pulled around the most coveted spots nearest the entrance, she saw someone pulling out, and put on her signal flasher while whooping in excitement. “I’m actually getting in on time today,” she mused to herself as she pulled into the spot and shut off the car. Collecting her possessions, she climbed out of the car, stowed her keys in her giant pocketbook and shut the door. For the sake of superstition, she patted the top of the old car and told it “Good car! You rest now, I’ll be back later!”
She walked in through the large glass revolving door, and started fumbling through her enormous pocketbook to find her identification card. Much to her surprize, it was right there on top of the countless things in there. She fished it out and clipped it to her shirt, and started power walking to the card reader on the far side of the hallway. She swipes in exactly three minutes early with a smile, “Just in the nick of time!” she thought to herself as she made her way onto the waiting elevator, and pushed the button for her floor.
The elevator shot straight up to her floor, and she exited the car as the doors opened. Lydia made her way to her desk in the small office in the corner she shared with three other people. Really, she didn’t consider it an office, but an extension of the cubical farm outside. Today, she got in early enough to set her things down neatly and begin to put the things that she needed to do in order. She set her coffee mug well to the back of the desk, almost behind her computer monitor knowing that this was the least likely place for her to spill and make a mess all over everything.
Without much ado, she starts to go through the stack she set for herself. It seemed impossibly large even with her orginization and seperation, so she started to work quickly. Every time she thought she was about to make some progress, she found an issue that needed to be dealt with urgently. She was hoping to be able to get to go out for lunch today, but despite her best attempts to get through the mountain of paperwork her entire desk was overwhelmed with papers and charts. As time started to roll by, one by one each of the three other people in the office got up and headed down to lunch. She glanced at her watch and sighed, that this was going to be one of those days after all as she started to look around and found the office floor empty.
She glanced at her watch again and the hasty scrawl on the back of her hand caught her eye the moment after she looked at her watch. Turning her hand back over she read the name of the website she had scribbled down in the car. “What the heck,” she said to herself as she pushed the pile neatly off to the side. Reaching for her coffee cup, she found that it was empty, then glanced at the coffee pot in the corner and was pleased to see that it was on and still half full. She got up and refilled her mug, thinking that things were finally looking up again.
Returning to her desk, she opened a new window on her computer and entered in the same address that was on the back of her hand. It brought up a simple but pretty blue and white travel agency website with a bright banner that when clicked led Lydia to the contest entry form. Reading it over, she began to fill out all the sections. As she got to the end, she saw there was one last line that gave her pause. “(Optional) Tell me why you want this vacation.”
She paused for a long moment before she answered it. “Today is starting to look up, what do I got to lose?” she quickly typed in with a laugh. Rechecking all her answers, she makes sure her email address is typed in correctly and very satisfiedly clicks the mouse. Taking a long sip of coffee from her mug, she gets back to work while daydreaming of exotic locales.
Quickly, she starts powering through the papers, finding the usual mistakes and correcting them easily. The imagery in her head of winning the fabulous vacation was so vivid she could almost swear she could smell the rum drinks and coconut suntanning oil mixed with the salty sea air on the beach. Her co workers came back in one by one, and didn’t give Lydia a second glance as they resumed their work.
The end of the day rolls on along, and a very surprised Lydia sees that her entire desk is empty. Not a single paper was in her inbox, her outbox was cleared, and nothing was straggling behind like on a normal day. She nodded to herself impressed as she was in no way expecting to get done on time today. As she looked around, she realized that she was ahead of the game for the first time in weeks. She turned to her computer to log off, but pauses as she hears the computer make the new email sound.
Clicking on the mailbox icon, she watches her inbox pop up. She had one new email, from the travel agent. the subject line read: “Attn: Lydia, re: vacation contest” Intrigued, she opened the email, expecting a “Thank you for entering” message.
Instead, as it opened, she was greeted with the top line. She gasped as she read: “Congratulations, First Prize winner!” as she continued to read, she saw that it requested that she go to the travel agency at her earliest convenience, no appointment needed. The last line read “We’re waiting for you!”
Lydia couldn’t believe her good fortune- today had just been the best day she had the pleasure to enjoy in what seemed like years. As she printed out the email, she realized that since she was ahead with her work, it’d be no problem to take the next day off. She gathered her things, placed the printed email neatly in her pocketbook and practically skipped out the door, the happiest she’d been in months.
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