F Wilson - Fatal Error

Eddie pointed to a display of Spade, Vuitton, Gucci, and Prada accessories.

"Bootleg too?"

"Not just bootlegs-bootlegs of bootlegs."

Ernie took pride in never selling anything but knock-offs.

The man himself waited by the rear counter, whippet thin with thick, longish black hair and a nervous tongue that flicked in and out between Sten-gun sentences. His eyes lit when he saw Jack wasn't alone. He knew that often meant a payday.

"Hey, Jacko. How y'doin, how y'doin?"

"Good, good. Ernie, meet Eddie, Eddie, meet Ernie. You alone?"

"Just me and my dreams of winning Powerball. The pot's up to seventy mil. Need some tickets?"

"No." He'd probably printed them in the back this morning. "But Eddie needs to disappear and reappear."

Ernie didn't hesitate. "Not a problem. We can help."

He'd supplied all of Jack's many identities through the years. And he knew anyone Jack brought in would be stand-up.

He hurried to the front of the store where he flipped the OPEN sign to CLOSED.

When he returned he said, "We'll take some pics and pick out a nice new name. I don't know if Jack's told you, but I recommend keeping the first letter of your first name. Saves awkward moments when you sign something. May I suggest Ernest?"

"He also needs to be in two places at once."

Eddie looked at him. "What?"

"You'll see."

Ernie glanced at Jack. "Money in the accounts?"

"Some."

"Good, good."

"What are we talking about here?" Eddie said.

"Ernie's going to clone your card and give it to someone-where this time, Ern?"

"Got someone in Tennessee."

"Perfect."

"I don't get it," Eddie said.

"He's going to give all the info off your debit card, plus your PIN to someone in Tennessee who is going to make a new card."

"What?"

"Then they'll use that new card all over the state to buy whatever they want till the money runs out."

The light dawned in Eddie's eyes and he smiled. "I get it. Whoever's tracking me will think I've run to Tennessee."

"Exactly."

"Works beautiful," Ernie said, neglecting to mention that he'd be collecting a fee on both ends.

"He did the same for Weezy last year. Where was that?"

Ernie thought a moment. "Wyoming, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, I think so. But hang on to this till Monday, okay?"

"Not a problem. Come on into the back so I can steal your soul."

Eddie gave Jack a bewildered look.

"Photos, Eddie. He's going to take your picture."

As they disappeared behind a curtained doorway, Jack wandered to the front and stared through the glass door at the traffic on Tenth Avenue.

Should he have waited? If the Jihad virus worked and brought down the Net this would be an empty exercise.

Nah. Wrong mind-set. Play it like victory was a sure thing, otherwise you've already lost.

But wasn't that the case?

"Who's that?" Jack said as a new tune started thumping from Weezy's iPod. He liked it.

"Moby." She began swaying to the beat. "From The Bourne Identity."

"Moby's awesome," Dawn said.

Weezy had invited her over. She seemed channeled into mother mode with the teen.

Eddie had opted out. He'd been fragged. He hadn't slept well the past few nights so they let him crash and returned to Weezy's.

Weezy opened her refrigerator door and checked out the shelves within.

"Hungry."

He knew from his own inspection a few minutes ago that they were bare. He glanced at the clock on her kitchen wall.

"Almost eight. We forgot to eat."

Almost eight… that meant Gia and Vicky were on their way. She'd called from O'Hare to say they were in safe and their flight to LaGuardia was on time.

Almost home free… almost.

"And I didn't have lunch," she said.

"You only eat veggies anyway."

Though Jack had to admit her diet was working.

"I'm feeling decadent tonight," she said. "Like Chinese takeout."

"My treat," Dawn said.

Weezy smiled. "Not necessary."

"I have money," she said. "And I need to contribute something here. You've both been so good to me."

Jack glanced at Weezy. How could they tell her what they knew about her baby? They'd discussed it earlier and decided it was better to leave some things unsaid.

"No, I totally insist," Dawn said, misinterpreting the look. She turned to Jack. "I mean, you went over there and checked out his place."

Jack shrugged. "No biggie."

He was glad he did. It had been a revelation.

"I still can't believe they're gone… just up and left. You think Mister Osala has the baby?"

He shrugged again. "Who can say? But you've got to admit, the timing is suspicious. He keeps you there until you have the baby, then the baby disappears and so does he."

"But Mack told you he never saw a baby."

"No. But I'm going to talk to him again and get the name of that moving company. This Osala guy has got to be somewhere."

"See?" Dawn said, tearing up a little. "That's what I mean. You're going to all this effort for me."

Not just for you, Jack thought. For me.

He hadn't thought to ask Mack for the name of the moving company yesterday-realizing Osala's true identity had blown everything else out of his mind-but he'd remedy that tomorrow. He wanted to know where Rasalom was setting up shop next. He'd promised Veilleur to keep his distance, but as far as Jack was concerned, that promise was voided if the Lady went down.

Then it was war… all-out war.

But right now, a change of subject was in order.

"Like I said: No biggie. But we can talk about this later. Right now we've got food to order. Shrimp egg foo yung for me, and maybe-"

"That's not a real Chinese dish, you know," Weezy said.

"If it's served in Chinese restaurants, that's Chinese enough for me."

"It's served in Chinese-American restaurants, but you can't get it in a real Chinese restaurant-i.e., those in China-because they've never heard of it. In Shanghai they have fuyung egg slices, but it's not the same dish."

Where did she dig this stuff up?

"Fascinating, Weez. Absolutely fascinating. But I still want egg foo yung-shrimp egg foo yung, if you don't mind-and an egg roll. Or are you going to tell me egg rolls were invented in Peoria?"

"Were you two ever married?" Dawn said.

"No!" they replied in unison, perhaps a tad too loudly.

"Oh, because-"

"We go back a long way," Jack said. "A real long-"

"Wait," Weezy said, holding up a hand. "Do you hear something?"

Jack listened and heard a voice coming from the spare bedroom. Sounded like a woman.

He looked at Weezy. "Someone here?"

She looked baffled, and a little worried. "No way."

Jack stepped up to the darkened doorway and peered within. The computer was running, with a black-and-white film playing on the monitor. It looked familiar.

Weezy came up behind him and peered over his shoulder.

"What the…?" She squeezed past and flicked on the light. "I turned that off before I left to go to Eddie's place. And what's playing?"

"Dark Victory."

"You think?"

He pointed to the actress speaking. "She's got Bette Davis eyes."

Weezy looked at him. "But I don't have any movies on my-" Her hand shot to her mouth. "Oh no!"

Jack's gut clenched as Munir's theory flashed through his brain.

"Video… it's downloading a video. It's started."

Dawn joined them. "What's started?"

"The Jihad virus," Weezy said as she leaped to her keyboard and began tapping madly. "I can't stop it. And it won't shut down." She leaned over and pressed the power button on the tower. The screen went blank. "There-" The screen came to life again. "It turned itself on!"

"Just unplug it," Jack said.

Instead she hit the lighted off switch on her power strip. As the screen went dark again, she looked at him with wide eyes.