Ch. 40 – Deal with the Dickless Devil
It was taking a while.
Derrick and Xavier sat on the upside down crates: Derrick checking his phone, and Xavier checking out Maxine.
Maxine was dependable, you could say. She was younger than Derrick, but he often found himself coming to her when he had tried and failed to get help through a manufacturer’s official support channels.
Derrick could search and trawl through the web to find leaked credentials that were already widely distributed, but Maxine was the type that checked servers for vulnerabilities, and leaked sensitive information in the first place.
But she was taking a while.
He hadn’t asked, but Maxine was most likely taking the identifier ‘tdavidson’ and checking through Revolute and Better Butler’s servers to see if she could gain access. It was difficult, but that was how she got her kicks. She did it partly for the cash, and partly for the thrill.
But this might be one of those rare moments where she had to resort to phishing the information out of whoever had control over the ‘tdavidson’ account.
Thump.
Maxine slammed her hand on her desk and got up, running her hands through her back-length hair. She paced back and forth, like an old middle manager would when he was craving a hit of Afterburner, but didn’t have one.
“I’m sorry, but this is really bugging me right now,” she hissed. “This exploit is not working like I thought it would, and Better Butler is smarter than I thought they’d be—which really pisses me off!”
She growled and groaned, and then closed her lips and smiled. “Okay, that’s out of my system.”
Derrick merely nodded; it was dangerous to interrupt Maxine when she was ranting. It was much better to sit quietly in his seat—a good six feet away from her—as last time she was frustrated she had flung her arm out and accidentally whacked Derrick right in the face.
“So, you said you already knew this from talking with the engineer earlier, but they are located in New Shore City. But I can do you one better. I’ve got the approximate location of the device they were using to connect to the Better Butler servers.”
She pointed at her sticky note-covered monitor, on which the satellite image of New Shore City rapidly zoomed in until a neighborhood of buildings came into focus. There weren’t many skyscrapers, except for one, tall apartment complex in the middle. It seemed familiar . . .
“Oh, that place.” “Motherfucker, they’re there?” Derrick and Xavier looked at each other.
Maxine raised an eyebrow. “What’s the super special secret about this apartment complex?”
“It’s a gang hideout,” Derrick said.
“Shit, it’s where those bomb-ass white girls hang out, and the bikers I guess,” Xavier said.
“So, who are these bomb-ass gangster white girl bikers?” Maxine asked.
“The Dixies, I think,” Derrick said. “And I imagine you’re being ironic, but the bikers are the gangsters, and they’re mostly guys: nasty ones.”
“Okay then,” Maxine said, shrugging her shoulders. “This building gets a big red ‘X’ on it. There.” She clicked her mouse. “See? That’s why I keep inviting you over, Derrick.”
Well, anyways, your ‘perp’ is here. I was able to get their approximate location, but no other information, so you’ll have to do some digging around yourself.”
“Okay, that helps,” Derrick said. “I’m guessing this means you couldn’t get the login credentials?”
“No. I couldn’t get their location directly from Better Butler either, BUTTT the pea-brain connected their account to a photo-sharing service, which ties some of their uploaded photos to the Better Butler account. So I’ve got a few pictures for you too,” she said. Multiple pictures of an young blonde woman popped up on the monitor. She had comically large markered-on eyebrows, and a pair of larger-than-life breasts: rather out-dated and distasteful considering what modern aesthetic surgery could do.
“Oh shit,” Xavier said, pointing at the monitor, his mouth wide open. “She took my account? Man I shoulda known! I shoulda known!”
“Do you know this woman?” Derrick asked.
Xavier nodded his head, mouth still hanging open.
“You know this girl? Where from?” Derrick asked.
“We were hooking up together! It was pretty fucked up, and that’s why I got out. But she just wouldn’t leave me alone, afterwards. I got all these spam messages and angry voicemails for a whole month before she stopped.”
“So you cut off contact with her?” Maxine asked.
“Yeah. I mean we hooked up a few more times, but . . . then I cut it off for real.”
“Why were you still hooking up with her when you had already left her?” Derrick asked.
“She was too fuckin’ hot, man! A man’s gotta eat from time to time, you know what I mean? And I was starving!”
“Desperation is a powerful drug,” Maxine remarked out of the side of her mouth.
A spurned lover who still had physical access to the man’s mod, possibly messing with it while he was asleep. It was completely plausible. Derrick pointed at the woman’s pictures. “So I’m guessing she stole the login credentials from you while you two were still shacking up, and then locked you out of the account so you couldn’t get them back. Was she tech-savvy? Do you think she could’ve done it on her own, or did she need help?”
“Charlene? She barely knew how to open her smartphone. Someone must’ve been helping her. Hell, maybe someone put her up to it. She was a freak, and not in a good way, but would she really do something so horrible? She loved my dick. Why would she make it go soft!” He glanced up at Maxine. “I mean . . . that’s not all I’ve got though. I know how to use my tongue too.”
Maxine smirked. “Sure. Anyways, if she’s the jealous type, taking your beloved unit away from you would be the best revenge. So that no one else could use it.”
Xavier blinked at her, perhaps truly realizing the gravity of his situation. “Fuck that. Shit, if that bitch thinks she can keep me down, soften me up, I’ll show her what’s what.” He turned to Derrick. “Doc, we gonna get to the bottom of this, right?”
“Well, hold on,” Derrick said. “Maxine, do you have any more information on this account hack? Xavier, is Charlene her real name? What’s her last name?”
“Everyone calls her Charlene. Hell if I know if that’s her real name,” Xavier said.
“I’ve hit a dead end with the information I have right now,” Maxine said. “But I’ll give you a ring if I find any more.”
Xavier was pacing back and forth, practically vibrating with anxiety. “Well then, Mr. Williams. You have a few choices. You can get in contact with Charlene, and ask her to give you your account access back voluntarily. Or you can go find her, and beat the information out of her. Or you can try to get close and ascertain the situation. Maybe if you figure out her full legal name, Maxine will have more to work with, and can get your credentials back for you.”
Xavier furrowed his brow and scratched his neck. “Wait, you ain’t coming with me?”
“Well, no,” Derrick said. “I mean, we got you the information right? Hack Alley fixes technical problems, we’re not hired muscle or something like that. You know where to go, and what your options are, so you should be able to handle the rest on your own if you confront her directly. Or, if you want to try and steal the login credentials back, we’ll need some more information before we can move forward.”
“Can’t you, like, do some sorta hacker shit if we get close to her?”
“Not reall—”
“—Oh, but we can,” Maxine interrupted. “If you can bring me one of her devices that she uses to login to the Better Butler account, I might be able to retrieve the login details.”
“Oh shit, like a snatch job.”
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“Like I said, that sort of stuff isn’t really in my job description. I’d be happy to help you with inspecting your mod and tweaking the settings once you get it back, though. There’s quite a bit we can do to make sure this sort of thing doesn’t happen again.”
“Shit, you can bet I’ll get that phone back.”
“But what if it’s a laptop?” Maxine asked.
“Uh . . .”
“Or maybe it’s a smartwatch? My point is, you have no idea what device she’s logged in on.”
“I can just grab ‘em all,” Xavier said.
Maxine laughed. “In the middle of Dixie territory? You said this chick was in with the gang, right? If you grab a device, you better be sure it’s the right one so you can run away right afterwards. Fortunately, I’ve got good solution for you.” She handed Derrick a device. “Bring this toward that general location, and get eyes on the woman in the photo. All their devices are probably on the city wifi, which is using tons of unsecured IoT devices to ensure the network reliability. I’ll take control of the routers through this device, and then I’ll be able to triangulate any devices that are contacting the Better Butler servers.” Maxine giggled. “This’ll be fun.”
“Wait, you want me to go into Dixie territory?” Derrick asked. “Why can’t he just bring the device around himself?” Derrick asked.
“I only trust professionals to operate my devices: professionals like you,” she said, slapping Derrick on the shoulder. His shoulders stung from the impact, despite being covered by clothing. “I’ll likely need to coordinate with you to reposition the device so I can take control of the IoT devices. It’ll take a steady hand and patience, something I know you’ve got plenty of.”
Derrick frowned. She was right, of course. Xavier didn’t seem the type to treat Maxine’s mystery device with care or finesse. But this ‘Charlene’ girl was cooped up in an apartment deep into Dixie territory. Those gangsters thankfully didn’t venture into Chinatown too often, since it was ostensibly White Leopard territory, but they wouldn’t think twice about beating up a stranger on their own turf.
“Thanks for the compliment, but I’m not looking for trouble with the Dixies. Xavier ”
“NO, COME ON, MAN!” Xavier shouted. “I can’t do this by myself, and I’ve got to get my dick fixed before tomorrow.”
“What’s the rush?” Derrick asked.
“I’m meeting a bomb-ass bitch. And she’s gonna LEAVE me if I can’t get it up tomorrow. Man, I can NOT let this bitch get away . . . ” Xavier’s ranting grew louder, and his voice grew hoarser, until he broke into a coughing fit, covering his mouth with his hand.
“I’m a mod-doc, Mr. Williams. I’m not a secret agent.”
Xavier clapped his hands once, and finished his coughing fit. “One thousand dollars.”
“. . . One thousand dollars to accompany you into Dixie territory?”
“Man you’re pushing me! Two thousand.”
“No, that’s not the point—”
“Three thousand.”
Maxine was staring at the exchange with a wide grin on her face.
Derrick waved at her. “Hey, the joke’s over, okay? Can you help me talk some sense into him?”
She tapped her lips with her pen, but kept grinning. “Hmmm, maybe you’re right, Derrick. Three thousand is low for this job. Remember, I have to get paid too.”
“Four thousand!” Xavier said, rummaging through his pockets.
“I—“ Derrick paused. How had he been planning to pay the bills, and all the back-rent? Doing a few more jobs? Pawning off Tony’s bling? How much would that net him? A few hundred dollars, maybe.
“Hello? Anyone there?” Xavier said, waving his hand in front of Derrick’s face. “Five thousand! Fuck it, take everything I’ve got on me.” He pulled bill after wadded hundred dollar bill out of his pockets, tossing them onto the upside down crate.
The bills fluttered down, some of them spilling onto the floor.
“Hold on. Stop talking, please,” Derrick said. “Let me think.” He needed to walk around, have a moment to himself, but the hundred dollar bills on the ground held his gaze. “Ugh. I’ll be back in five minutes.” He could only guess at the potential earnings, but it was better to get a solid estimate from the pawnshop itself.
“Where you going, Derrick?” Maxine yelled from behind.
“Into the hallway. I’ll be back, just give me some time by myself.”
Xavier and Maxine’s chatter faded away as Derrick walked back towards where they had come from. He should get reception here, right? He pulled out his phone and dialed he pawnshop.
Derrick described the bag of bling that Tony had told him to prepare, and Wong muttered in Cantonese, presumably going through some numbers in his head.
Derrick winced. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. But every last bit helped—
Son of a—
“Fuck!” Derrick growled, bringing his leg back to kick at one of the boxes of electronics, but stopped just short.
Back along that hallway was five thousand dollars in cash available for the taking, if Derrick was willing to get his hands dirty. That amount wouldn’t be caught up on all the back-rent, but Bernard would be off their backs, at least, and they could keep the power on for another month.
But surely there was another way, that didn’t involve possibly confronting the Dixies on their own turf?
The pawn shop was a bust. Besides the estimate for Tony’s bling being way too low, Wong wasn’t even taking new pieces to begin with.
Derrick frowned. A normal person might be able to borrow from friends . . . but non of Derrick’s friends would recognize him, and Tony had already tapped out all the loans he could find.
He could just keep doing normal jobs, but most of their clientele were the old folks that Tony always gave discounts for. If they built cash up slowly from those jobs, they wouldn’t save enough in time before Bernard called the White Leopards in to evict Derrick and Tony.
Those fucking White Leopards! Acting as if they owned the town. If the gangs were kicked out and the city government actually had a presence in Chinatown, Derrick could appeal the eviction on grounds of substandard conditions, but this town was too sick for that.
There was the option of paying with counterfeit bills, but he would get found out pretty fast. Or maybe even stealing money, or . . . threatening Bernard.
Xavier’s whining came loud and desperate from down the hall: muffled but probably related to his malfunctioning penis prosthesis. The man was alone, in a strange place, and Maxine probably wouldn’t hate Derrick if he mugged Xavier and tossed the body in the water . . .
But what would all of that make Derrick? A thug. A gangster. He would rather lose his home than turn out the same as a White Leopard.
Xavier and Maxine had quieted down. They were probably waiting for him to come back. But it was a decision he couldn’t make himself. If he risked bringing more gang trouble upon Hack Alley, the owner at least ought to know. Derrick dialed Tony’s number, and the phone rang, before eventually going to voicemail.
Tony’s voicemail message began playing. It had been recorded on a shitty day, but Tony had never bothered to change it. “Hello, you’ve reached Tony Yu. Please leave a—fucking hell, why does everything BREAK around here—please leave a message and I’ll get back to you . . . soon.”
“Tony,” Derrick said into the phone receiver, careful not to reveal too much. “I’ve got something I want to ask you. Call me back when you get this message.”
Footsteps came from the hallway, and Xavier Williams came up to Derrick and shook him on the shoulder, almost knocking the phone out of his hand. “Come on, man! What’s taking you so long? I’ve gotta get my dick fixed right now for that fine honey.”
“Sorry, but could we put this on hold for thirty minutes or so? I’m waiting to hear back from someone—”
“No, I ain’t got time to wait! You gotta help me now, or the deal is off.” Xavier was practically jumping up and down with each word. “I mean it, I’ll take my fucking money and go.”
“I—” Was he really going to do this? Get entangled with another gang to make a quick buck? It wasn’t like Xavier could actually go anywhere without Derrick’s canoe. But he could do something stupid, like jump in the water and drown, bringing five thousand dollars down with him.
“Okay, fine,” Derrick said. “Let’s go back to Maxine and finalize the deal.”
It was a deal with the devil, but Derrick didn’t have much choice if he wanted to keep Hack Alley open.
They walked back down the hallway where Maxine was waiting. It was time to negotiate.