Theft at Dawn

I recognized my target. Gregor DuBois, chief programmer of Solar Dreams Ltd, is one of the world's finest brains. Never mind his brains, his body interested me much more. A Scandinavian football hero type, athletic body, well-tanned face, short blonde hair, and an open, friendly face, he looked like every mother's darling-son-in-law. I knew I would love this job.

This one-week meeting of all global players in computing should give me plenty of opportunities. Let´s start with the first. He was on his own, so I had an easy game to arrange a place directly beside him. My smile was genuine when I greeted him: "You must be Gregor DuBois. My, you made a good figure on the Times cover last week !"

For a split second, he showed a rueful grin. "These damned reporters made me look like a price bull," he answered. "Should never have made that interview." His grin changed to open admiration.

I knew I looked gorgeous in my dark red velvet dress. It had cost me hours to find a matching tone for my hair, and even more hours and a nice bundle of greenbucks to give me that overall perfect appearance. Among all the drag business-women I stood out like an orchid among daisies, just the dazzling effect I intended. My mother wouldn´t have recognized me today.

"It seems this interview does bring me something good after all," he continued. "May I ask with whom I have the honor?"

Not only good-looking but properly educated as well. "My name is Dolores Mellenroe, Sonora Games, Arizona" I replied. Sonora Games is an established computer game factory, and of course, there is one Dolores Mellenroe on their payroll. My identities are always waterproof.

Sonora Games, Arizona was no threat to Solar Dreams Ltd, Belgium. He relaxed visibly. Had he known my real employer...

We chatted the usual small talk, attended the first meeting round together, and had a cup of coffee in the hotel lounge. Inevitably he asked for a social dinner. Some of his friends came with us. London offers every kind of ethnic food. We had a nice evening at a local china restaurant. I was the best-looking woman around, and his friends gratulated him for his luck. The Chinese gods agreed. My fortune cookie read "You will find a treasure soon". His said, "Don´t miss a splendid opportunity". Perfect match.

He brought me to my room, very civilized, very courteous, and said good night with a kiss on the hand.

I closed the door, opened my laptop, and made my report. "Contact. Target has no suspicions. Odds of success 70%."

The next day I waited. He had to make the next move. I pretended working interest. Lunchtime he strolled to my desk and said hello. I feigned surprise. If I would like to repeat this nice evening. I told him I had the fitness room on my schedule. Next day, perhaps. This evening he didn´t dine with his friends. The hotel´s fitness room has a huge glass front. So I noticed him sitting in the sofa corner, his laptop ready for work. Poor laptop, he looked more in my direction than on its screen. I showed him my Wonderbra-accentuated body in perfect condition. The green bodysuit didn´t hide anything. When I finished he was gone. Good for him.

This evening my report was: "Target on bait, odds of success 85%".

He didn´t lose more time. At breakfast, the waiter brought a perfect yellow rose to my desk. Attached was a card. Dinner at 8:30. No denial accepted. DuBois. That guy didn´t merely look like a football player, he attacked like one. Just what I like. At the meeting, I smiled at him. "Alright with me, if it´s just the two of us". He blushed a little but showed me the O.K. Sign.

This evening I prepared a formal dress. Shoulder-free black stretch robe, hair decoratively combed, high heels, Chanel No5, every womanly weapon you can think of. He wore white trousers and a white Lacoste polo shirt. We must have made a splendid pair. No kiss on the hand this evening. He followed me into my room, we had a nice little chat, champagne from my minibar, and when he said goodnight, he kissed me. A real kiss.

This evening my report was: "Target in the net, odds of success 95%"

The next day saw us together from dusk till dawn. His friends were a bit envious. He knew we had only two more days left. He would return to Belgium, I would fly back to California. So this evening he went the whole hog. We stayed together all night, in his room, in his bed. Made love, and afterward, he talked. About his work, about his dreams. I didn´t have to feign interest. There was my job, presented on a silver tablet. What was this special software of Solar Dreams Ltd? The new operating system, which the whole world showed interest in? A special virus-safe piece of programming, with a top-secret source code. He had programmed it himself, and he was proud of his work. A father couldn´t have been more proud had his son taken his first step. Failsafe, virus-safe, hacking-safe, whatever you name it, it is. He explained, the source code was read-only, and programs only contacted the kernel code in the working memory, so what kind of disaster ever happened, you just had to shut down your computer, and with your next start it was safe working again. I could understand my employer. He was one of the biggest in computing, and this new operating system threatened to wipe him off the market. He needed the source code, needed desperately to find some weak spots. It was dawntime when I returned to my room.

My report was: "Target in bed, odds of success 99%"

No need to describe the next day in detail. The meeting was dull enough, so we decided to skip the afternoon session. The weather was fine. We visited the town. London is a good holiday resort if you happen to see it without rain. We returned very late in the evening. I prepared some drinks in his room. His glass got special care. 15 drops of the clear liquid I had hidden in my handbag. He would taste nothing. It took some time to work. First, we had a lot of fun in his bed, later he talked again. More about his dream. Why he had developed his software. Software which was failsafe and fool-proof. The software worked on every computer and could emulate every known operating system, thus giving a working environment to all known programs. And software that you could buy for mere peanuts. That was what people needed. That was what the internet needed. That was what the world needed for peaceful contacts worldwide. That was what everybody could afford, be it a big concern, a small shop owner, or a Mr. Nobody at home. That was what my employer feared like hell.

When the drug worked he told me his password. He slept while I copied the source code on my laptop. He slept while I studied the code. I was a well-known hacker, so I could appreciate his work. Without the password, nobody would ever have a chance to hack this code. Not in the next ten years, anyway. Which would bankrupt my employer.

At dawn, my report was: "Success".

I am loyal. You pay me, you get what you pay for. I delivered the code to my employer. I delivered the password. I delivered a virus inside as well. One of the nasty kind. The moment he entered the password, the virus would start to erase the whole hard drive. Meanwhile, the system would continue with working memory alone. Nobody would suspect anything until it was too late. To my employer, it would look like a last inbuilt defense. 

I told you I am a hacker. I pride myself on being one of the best. Gregor's vision had been like a virus inside my brain. Gregor himself had been like a virus inside my heart. I came to steal his code and had my heart stolen instead. He will never know. I left for California on the morning of the sixth day.

Word count 1381

Inspired by the fact that I'm a computer nerd, and the mere idea of losing data by catching a virus is pure horror.

Word Count: 1961
Hours Spent: 3
Software Used: Photoshop