Geek Mafia Page 4

  "Marie," said Greg after listening to Jerry for a minute. "Could you step out for a minute?"

  The lawyer was shocked. This had to be way beyond weird for her, and unlike any meeting she'd ever been to.

  "I don't think that's a good idea, Greg. You should stop now and give me a chance to look into this. Find out some more about what's really going on here."

  "Yeah," said Chloe, "Let's give everybody a chance to find out a little more about what's really going on here." She smiled cheerfully.

  "Please, Marie, I can handle it from here," said Greg, looking down at the table in front of him. He was angry too, which surprised Paul. He'd seen Greg frustrated and annoyed, but now the first-time CEO seemed to actually seethe with rage. It was kind of scary, but also sort of funny. He was the wild card, though. Greg had enough "fuck you" money to call their bluff. He would only give in under pressure from the other three.

  Marie started to protest but then seemed to realize that there was something going on in the room that she was missing. She gathered her briefcase and laptop and walked out the door. Jerry was still next to Greg and they were whispering back and forth. Once the door had closed behind Marie, Chloe started up again.

  "As you guys can see, I've got the goods on all of you. There's stuff in those files you probably don't know about each other. Fuck, in your case, Jerry, there's stuff in there your wife probably doesn't even want to know, isn't there?" Jerry didn't respond. He was still whispering in Greg's ear. "So, let's get this over with, shall we? I'm here to give you a..."

  "How did you get this?" snapped Frank. "You couldn't have gotten what's in this file legally. There's no way."

  "It doesn't matter," said Chloe.

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  "It matters," insisted Frank, "Because you can't use it in court."

  "Who said anything about using it in court? I have plenty of things to use in court, as I already said." Chloe sat down in her seat next to Paul for the first time, propping her feet up on the table as she leaned back in her chair. She smelled really good, thought Paul. Not perfume, but something else. Something subtle. "To be honest Greg, your file there is the least interesting. Sure you've spent some money on some questionable things like call girls and weird sex toys, but that's not really such a big deal. I can assure you though, there's stuff in those other files that makes for much, much juicier reading. Just ask Jerry there."

  "This is bullshit," said Frank. He stood up and pounded on the table. "It's fucking bullshit!"

  "Yeah, well, we're playing hardball now, sport," Chloe mocked. "And you're losing big time. You guys got nothin'. You already fired Paul and he's got nothing left to lose. He doesn't have families and marriages he wants to preserve like Jerry or Evan. And he doesn't have a legal skeleton in his closet like you do Frank. A skeleton that might just come with some serious jail time."

  Frank started to say something, but then thought better of it and sat down. None of them knew what to do or what to say. They all snuck furtive glances at one another, trying to suss out the other guys' secrets while hiding their own.

  Chloe's friends - her crew as she called them - had had a busy night. They'd gone through everything in the company's computers, including all the e-mail and, almost as importantly, all of the Web traffic for the four founders. They had social security numbers, bank account info, e-mail messages, porn site accounts, travel information, credit card statements, phone records, and more. They'd taken it all in under an hour and then used some blackmail-grade search tool Kurt and Raff had designed to weed through the mountains of data looking for the good stuff.

  At 4:00 that morning Raff had come into Chloe's living room with the good news. Everyone had secrets, and Raff had found some real doozies. It helped that Paul already had his own suspicions about each of them that had allowed Chloe's crew to focus their search parameters.

  Jerry's marriage was, at best, strained. Paul had always suspected Jerry was up to something - too many unexplained weekends away and mysterious phone calls to "no one important." Raff had announced that he was now about 99% sure that Jerry was cheating on his wife, judging by the flights, the calls, the hotel rooms, and the steamy e-mails Jerry had been sending to a woman named Carla in Portland. All of which was information Jerry's wife would go ballistic about. The phone calls alone probably would have been enough for her to file divorce papers. And that would mean Jerry would lose half of everything, including his stock.

  Evan's was even more interesting than that, although Paul felt more than a little bad about using such secrets against the man. But then Chloe had reminded him that it was better to fuck than be fucked and besides, did he want the money or not? Evan had a reputation for being into the S&M scene and all that, which in this day and age wasn't so bad. But this was the surprisingly homophobic world of computer game programmers, and even though Evan might not be gay, he apparently did like to dress up in women's clothing. His wife knew all about it (she apparently helped pick out the dresses), but Evan was a very private person and he would have a hard time commanding respect from his bigoted employees if they knew the truth. Actually, they probably would tease him for a week and forget about it, but Paul knew that Evan didn't think that - he would do whatever he could to keep his secret.

  Frank's was the worst of them all - although it was also the one they had the least proof about. It appeared that one of Frank's coworkers from a former job was sending rather angry e-mails accusing Frank of stealing his code. Indeed, this code apparently comprised the core for the graphics engine that made their current project possible. Of course the angry former coworker didn't have any proof. But now Chloe and Paul did, thanks to CHAPTER 4

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  Raff. They found encrypted e-mails from Frank discussing the problem with one of the other programmers.

  They'd also found the original code - which was line for line what the angry coworker had said it would be.

  This wasn't quite proof, but if the info Raff had dug up found its way into the right person's hands, Frank could be in some serious shit.

  "What do you want?" asked Greg.

  Paul wanted to say something, but Chloe, sensing this, put a hand on his knee to stop him. She answered Greg. "Like I said before, we want Paul's fair share. Simple as that. You personally buy Paul's stock at $1 per share, right here, right now. Otherwise, Jerry's wife finds out he's cheating on her, everyone finds out Evan's a transvestite, and several other lawyers find out all about how Frank stole code."

  Now everyone was looking down at the table except Chloe and Jerry. Chloe was staring straight up at Greg, watching Jerry whisper in his ear once more. A moment later Frank got up and started whispering in Greg's other ear, which looked almost ridiculous enough to make Paul laugh out loud. The three of them retreated to the far corner of the room to converse with a little more privacy. Chloe took out a cell phone and started dialing.

  "Gentlemen," said Chloe, causing all three conspirators in the corner to turn back towards the table. "I'm not full of patience at this point, so I'm calling one of my assistants. He's going to start e-mailing the contents of those files. I think we'll start with...Evan. Company wide, with pics. Also, he'll CC all the computer gaming press." Now it was Evan's turn to get up and join in on the whispering, but Greg cut him off before he could plead his case.

  "You know this means we're through, don't you Paul?" said Greg. "I've done a hell of a lot for you. Spent a lot of money on this game of yours. It didn't work out and I'm sorry for that, but we could still be friends. Call this off now and you and I can work something out. Maybe start a new project together, something more suited to your temperament."

  Paul was tempted. Why burn bridges? Why cast aside a fifteen-year friendship? Tears started to well up in his eyes. Just as he started to say something, Chloe leaned over and put a hand on his upper thigh as she whispered in his ear. "He's playing you," she said. "I didn't want to show you last night, but Raff got some e-mails he wrote about you. If you rea
d them you'll know how full of shit he is. Don't fall for it. We've already won."

  Paul closed his eyes and wiped away an errant tear. He knew she was right. They'd already won and, quite frankly, the friendship was finished anyway. He turned to Chloe and nodded.

  "Enough bullshit, kids," said Chloe. "Game's over. Either you pay money now or you all pay in different ways later today." Chloe grinned at Greg. "Besides, Greg, if the game does as well once Paul's gone as you said it will in your e-mail, then you'll make your money back several times over. Just write the fucking check and we're gone."

  "I don't have that kind of money in my checking account," said Greg.

  "Yes you do," replied Chloe smugly.

  "What?"

  "Yes you do, Greg. You've got 1.2 million dollars in your checking account because you're buying a house for your mom and stepfather. You sent out the check yesterday but it hasn't cleared yet because the closing's not until 3:00 this afternoon."

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  "How do you...?"

  "Write the fucking check, call your bank, and cancel your mom's money. Or wire more money into your account. Either way, you can write the damned check and you can do it right now." Chloe reached into her briefcase and slid a stack of papers across the table to Greg. "Then we'll sign these papers transferring the shares over to you and wham, bam, thank you ma'am, this is all over and you can get on with your day."

  Everyone in the room was now looking at Greg. Jerry, Evan, and Frank were all standing behind him. The CEO and was looking down at the papers on the desk. There was a long silence as Greg thumbed through the pages, although Paul doubted that he was actually reading them. He was thinking.

  Greg didn't say anything for a long time. Everyone just watched and waited, holding their breaths. Finally he gave in. "Fine. Whatever. That's all I ever do around here anyway isn't it?" said Greg. "I sign checks." Then he looked at the three men standing forlornly behind him. "But this is it. I'm in charge now. You three owe me big and I don't want anymore questioning what I say or complaining about the rules I make. This is it. I own you."

  "Ok, Greg. You've got it," said Jerry. Frank and Evan just nodded. Paul knew that Frank disliked Greg almost as much as he disliked Paul and that bowing down to him like this was painful. That made the moment just a little bit sweeter than it already was.

  "Stay here while I go get my check book."

  Fifteen minutes later it was over. Greg wrote the check and signed the papers Chloe had typed up transferring ownership of the stock. The six of them probably didn't exchange more than ten words. On their way out Chloe and Paul passed Marie sitting in the lobby talking on her cell phone. The company's lawyer was not pleased with whatever was happening. Then they were out the door and on their way.

  "I took a cab," said Chloe. "You'll have to drive us to the bank."

  Paul's heart raced. He was rich. He was free. He'd just stabbed his best friend in the back and extorted almost a million dollars from him. He threw up all over the parking lot near Frank's car.

  Chloe handed him a bottle of water from her briefcase. "Come on Paul, we're almost through this."

  "Ok...I'm ok."

  "Good. Now drive to Bank of America as fast as you can and let's cash this fucker before they change their minds and cancel the check."

  Paul took a swig of water to wash his mouth out and then spit it back towards the office building.

  "Absolutely," he said.

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  CHAPTER 5

  As it turned out, Greg would have had a hard time canceling the check, even if he'd changed his mind. Chloe's crew had already sprung into action as soon as they left the building. The company used a computer controlled switchboard to route phone calls and this immediately went down, same for their Internet access.

  Meanwhile, a crude but effective denial of service attack was launched against their company Web site. If Greg decided to use his cell phone there wasn't much they could do, but the hope was that he'd be so tied up with all this other crap that he wouldn't have time to think of that.

  Paul didn't think any of that was necessary. Greg had given in and he wasn't going to call and cancel the check now. He'd agreed for a reason, and once Greg had a reason for making a decision it was usually impossible to change his mind. And it didn't make sense anyway. All he would have done is buy himself a little more time.

  Chloe and Paul would just march right back in and start all over again - probably after sending out pics of Evan in drag to all the employees. From his point of view, there was no reason for Greg to do that.

  Of course, it was still a huge risk for Chloe and Paul. If Greg just wanted a delay to get the lawyers involved, then they were in trouble. Chloe and he had broken a fist full of laws in the past twelve hours. They needed to cash that check and disappear as soon as they could.

  The bank put up a bit of a fuss about the check, which was one more reason Paul hated Bank of Fucking America. They always had some rule to screw a customer. But Chloe made a bunch of noise and actually jumped up and down at one point and eventually they walked out of the bank with a cashier's check. Then it was off to another, locally owned bank where Chloe had a contact who worked as an assistant manager. She'd called ahead to let her know that they were coming in with a big check that they wanted cashed right away.

  All the paperwork was waiting for Paul to sign and twenty minutes later he'd opened a new account and deposited the check. Chloe's friend made sure it went through and had already placed an order for cash, since the bank didn't have anywhere near that kind of money on hand. She'd put a rush on it and said they could pick up the money at 4:30 that afternoon. It was now 11:00.

  Paul and Chloe went back to his apartment where they met two guys named Filo and Max who had a van. The four of them descended on Paul's home and started packing up everything he cared about. That actually didn't take very long, since Paul didn't have much in the way of furniture. His artwork, comics, computer, TV, Tivo, Cd's, books, video games, and clothes went into an ever-growing pile of boxes. The boxes went into the van, and when that was full they went into his car. When that was full, a bag of clothes and a box of books went into the dumpster.

  "Fuck 'em," said Paul. "I'm rich now, right? I should buy a whole new wardrobe anyway." He added another box of clothes to the dumpster. Then they were off, although Paul noticed Filo's van went the opposite direction. "Where are they going with my stuff?" asked Paul.

  "Storage locker on the other side of town. I know the owner and got you a deal."

  "Won't I need my stuff?" asked Paul.

  "I thought you were buying new stuff?"

  "Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean I don't need some of that. My sketchbooks and the finished art from all my old comics are in there." Paul didn't really much care about anything else, but those originals were literally priceless to him and represented eleven years of hard work.

  "Don't worry, the stuff will be there when you need it." She dug a key with a tag out of her pocket and handed it to Paul. "Here's the key. The address and number are on the tag."

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  "Ok."

  "Besides, there's not enough room for all that junk at my place."

  "Your place?" asked Paul. "I thought I was going to stay with Raff."

  "I thought better of it," she said. "I want to keep an eye on you. Besides, after the party we're gonna throw tonight, you won't be in any condition to leave for a week or two anyway."

  Paul drove over to the rental agency that owned his apartment, and passed over his keys. He signed a couple of papers while the guy behind the counter blathered on about breaking leases and forfeiting security deposits, but Paul scarcely listened. He gave a PO Box address to forward his mail to and left. Next he cancelled the cell phone service. Then he closed all his old bank accounts.

  The night before, he and Chloe had had a long talk about what would happen after they pulled off their little con.
She had warned him that he might want to make it hard for his ex-partners to find him and cause trouble, either legally or physically.

  "You're going to make a lot of enemies in that room today," she had said.

  "I think they were already my enemies."

  "Nope. Before they just didn't like you very much. Before you probably never had a real enemy in your life.

  Now you're gonna have three or four of them."

  "I think you should define your terms here," he had said.

  "People who wouldn't hesitate to do you bodily harm if they could get away with it. People who curse your name on a daily basis and wish you no end of ill will. I'm talking people who actively want to see you dead.

  You know, enemies."

  "You're right, I don't think I've ever had one of those," he'd said.

  "Well, judging from what I've seen of these guys, and based on how totally we're going to fuck them over tomorrow morning, you're gonna have some soon."

  "Ok."

  "Which means," she'd said, "You don't want to be anywhere were they can find you. You don't want them to have any opening to strike back. Especially in the first twenty-four hours or so, when they're still so angry it's like a physical pain in their side. That's when they'll pull the crazy shit. That's when they'll come shoot your tires out or throw bricks through your window. That's why you have to be nowhere in sight. You shouldn't go home for at least three days. Maybe a week."

  Paul thought about this for a few long minutes. Why leave his crappy apartment for just a week? Why not leave it altogether? The thought of just cutting every link to his old life grabbed hold of Paul's imagination and wouldn't let go. The sheer freedom that came with such a decision offered an array of intoxicating possibilities. Paul had decided then and there to abandon his apartment completely. He'd only rented the place because it was close to the office. He had no happy memories there, no ties to the place at all. Why not just move out completely and make it impossible for Greg or anyone else to find him? Chloe seemed surprised at Paul's decision, but also pleased. She had arranged for the Crew to help him evacuate as fast as possible. From there he'd planned to just sort of play it by ear.