Making Plans on the Edge of a Building

“An iPod?” gapes Max, incredulous.

You roll your eyes. “Not just any iPod. This iPod contains the access codes and IP addresses of every workstation in the Yakuza extranet, and the home phone numbers of every dignitary in the European Union. Everything’s encrypted, of course, so now I just need to get an MD5 key from our man in Vienna, rig up a multi-node onion network, crack the login Jason found in Shibuya, plant the wiretap audio dump, and we’re home fre—”

“Aw jeez, you know I hate it when you go all geeky on me.” Max crosses his arms.

“Sorry. We’re going back to Austria to get a password. Then, I work some computer magic, and… we win.”

“Oh. Cool.”

“I’ve got news for you, Lisbeth Wilson, or Lana Waters, or whatever your name really is.” It’s Agent Harris, climbing back to his feet. “That iPod… it isn’t what you think.”

“Is that so?” You suddenly realize Max, in his hurry, forgot to disarm the man.

“Yes, you’ll find it quite empty. Except for a GPS device that’s been phoning home since Tuesday.”

The End

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