Abuse of Power - Michael Savage [55]
“Speak of the devil,” she said, then clicked on the envelope and quickly scanned the e-mail. “Looks like we’re in business, gentlemen. He found a match.”
She clicked again, opening the e-mail attachment, and a new image filled the screen. Jack frowned, thinking there must be some mistake.
“This can’t be right,” he said quietly.
It was a black-and-white rendering of a lion and a unicorn flanking a coat of arms. The lion was wearing a crown.
The image was one that Jack was all too familiar with.
It was the seal of the British embassy.
16
Jack stared at the two images side by side—the blowup and the e-mail attachment—and the only conclusion he could draw from this was that the parking sticker had come from the local British consulate. And that raised more questions than it answered.
“How accurate is your friend’s software?” he asked.
Max gestured toward the screen. “Pretty damn accurate, I’d say.”
Tony nodded. “That’s definitely a match.”
“So whoever drives that Escalade works for the San Francisco BC?”
“Unless it was stolen,” Max said.
Jack shook his head. “I doubt it. And judging by the guy in the sunglasses, we aren’t talking about office drones.” He looked at Tony. “What do you think? Consulate security?”
“Hard to say. Could be full-on Security Services. MI6 or special ops. I trained with some of those guys in the eighties and I can tell you firsthand they mean business.”
“This doesn’t make any sense,” Jack said. “Why would the Brits be involved in this?”
“Maybe these guys are freelancing, borrowed the company car,” Tony suggested.
Jack thought about this, then looked at Max. “How are your friend’s hacking skills?”
“Nonexistent,” she told him. “He’s strictly a software tech.”
“What about that guy you said you dated a few years ago? Made a living hacking college transcripts.”
“Dave Karras? Genius and loser, all rolled into one. Why do you think I dumped him?”
“You still have his number?”
It took Max a moment to realize what Jack was asking of her, and her expression soured. “Uh-uh, no way. Not gonna happen.”
“Come on, Max, I want to see what we can find out about these guys.”
She shook her head. “Forget it, Jack. I’m not contacting that freak.”
“Not even for me?”
Max turned to Tony. “You want to help me out here, stud?”
“Are you kidding?” Tony said. “I’m on his side.”
* * *
From all appearances, Dave Karras was a freak.
He came to the door wearing a ratty bathrobe and boxer shorts, with three days’ worth of stubble on his chin and unruly black hair in serious need of a shampoo and rinse.
The cramped apartment behind him was barely a step above Juanita Thomas’s, and Jack thought if he ever saw the guy on the street, he’d be carrying a cardboard sign: WILL HACK FOR FOOD.
Karras was what Max had described as a grad school dalliance, memorable for all the wrong reasons. And Jack had a difficult time picturing the two of them together.
Maybe he’d been a little more presentable back then.
“Where’s Maxie?” Karras asked, looking crestfallen when he didn’t see her standing in the hallway with them.
Max had finally agreed to set up the meet but had declined to be part of it. She’d told Jack she wasn’t interested in taking a trip down memory lane and had wished them luck.
“She sends her regards,” Jack said, then pushed his way into the apartment, Tony at his heels.
“Okay. Fair enough. Whatever.” Karras stepped aside, a small frown on his face. “Make yourself at home.”
The words were laced with mild sarcasm, but even if they’d been genuine Jack couldn’t imagine how anyone would ever manage it. This was not exactly a homey environment. There was little furniture to speak of, and the center of the room was dominated by a large, cluttered computer desk sporting three monitors, one of which was open to a Web site featuring several busty women playing topless beach volleyball.
In their brief phone conversation, Jack had learned that Karras was now making the bulk of his living hacking gambling sites and giving