Death Match - Diane Duane [84]
“It was a variation of their own trick,” Catie said softly. “You just turned it around and used it against them!”
“‘Own goal,’” Mark said. “They did it to themselves…with a vengeance.” He grinned.
“Ah, the conquering heroes,” said another voice. James Winters had slipped in and found himself a glass of the virtual champagne. Now he strolled over to them.
“Heroes, yes,” George said, looking around at his team-mates. “Conquering?”
“Eveything’s relative,” Winters said. “I think the epithet fits today. Meanwhile,” he said to Jay Gridley, “everything at the software and hardware end is handled; the original server, the contaminated routines, and the duplicates are all locked down. We can start getting the prosecuting team pulled together tomorrow. How about the other operation?”
“Handled,” Jay said, and looked over at George. “This is the other piece of news you need to hear. A gentleman named Darjan, Armin Darjan, got himself a flat tire in the middle of I-95 just outside Miami Tuesday afternoon. Seems he’d just been to see one of the South Florida team members, but he didn’t find her at home. The Miami police helped him get over to the hard shoulder, but while they were taking his particulars and helping him call a tow truck, one of them noticed something in his rental car that shouldn’t have been there. They brought him into the local police station to talk to him about it, and when he realized what the penalty is in Florida for carrying that particular weapon, especially without a concealed-carry permit, he became fairly talkative.”
George smiled slightly. “He seems to have a lot of friends in the computer-service business,” Gridley said. “Not to mention a lot of friends in financial circles, here and overseas. He talked to the police about all kinds of things, and when they got the gist of what was going on, they called us. We had a long talk with him, too, and took his prints and his passport from him, and called him a lawyer…and then we told him what he had to do over the next couple of days to make sure that the plea the lawyer was going to cut for him would stay in the same shape after this game as before. He was most cooperative.”
“Lucky he had that flat tire right then,” Catie said, feeling fairly daring to just come out and say what she was thinking to the head of Net Force.
“Heaven forbid I should complain,” Gridley said, his face perfectly straight. “It might make someone in local law enforcement think we were ungrateful.”
There were smiles all around at that. “So, ladies and gentlemen,” Gridley said to the South Florida team members gathered around, “thank you for your help. Some of you will be hearing from us in the very near future as we pursue this matter. Meanwhile, I’m sorry you didn’t win.”
“We’re not,” somebody said, and popped another bottle of champagne. “It means we can party now!”
This sentiment was met with much cheering. “Mean-while,” Jay Gridley said, turning to Catie, and grabbing his son in a friendly way behind the neck as he did so, “please tell me if there’s anything you feel you need removed from your workspace manager.”
“Uh, I’ll think about it and let you know,” Catie said. “The present configuration has a sort of strange amusement value.”
“Strange would be the word,” Gridley said. “Come on, Mark. Good night, Catie, and thanks again.”
The Gridleys vanished.
A little later Catie found her way back to George again. “One thing,” she said, “before I turn in. You knew that I was helping Net Force from the very start, didn’t you.”
“I suspected,” George said. “Very strongly. I mean, you practically