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It was more or less back to business as usual at the motel. The news reporters had left, but the room where the shooting took place needed new carpeting, and some of the drywall needed to be replaced. A new night auditor would start the following week. Once he came on board, Craig would start the day shift. His job at the motel had paid off. It had given him plenty of opportunity to build up a good rapport with several undocumented co-workers, and, once he gained their trust, they opened up and shared their stories with him. Those stories would be included in a series of articles to be published in The American Chronicle, a well-respected national news magazine.
Craig smiled to himself as he stepped into the kitchen to pour himself another cup of coffee. Along with the Chronicle series, he had been doing freelance work for other clients, and, if all went according to plan, he would at long last achieve his goal of becoming a nationally syndicated columnist. He glanced around the modest little Tucson house was renting and imagined the New York apartment he hoped to someday live in. He took a sip of coffee and headed back to the small bedroom he had converted into an office.
Setting his cup down, he tried to log into Rachel's email account, but the password no longer worked. He leaned back in his chair and took another sip of coffee. Rachel changed her passwords from time to time, but with a few clicks of the mouse he would have the new one. He set his coffee down and went to work, but an error message appeared on his screen. He frowned and tried again, only to see the same error message reappear. After two more attempts he gave up and searched for an old, achieved file. Once he opened it, he reached for his phone and dialed a number. Moments later a man with a foreign accent answered.
"Boris, it's Craig Walker."
"Who?"
"Craig Walker. I bought a special piece of software from you a few years ago."
"Did you?"
"Yes, I did. At the time I was doing a story on Internet spying, and you created a very special program for me. Among other things, it allowed me to get someone else's passwords."
"It did? Well, I can't say I recall. However, I'm no longer in that line of work. You'll have to find someone else. Goodbye."
"Wait! Boris, don't hang up. Just give me a minute to—."
Boris responded with a growl. "I told you I'm no longer in that line of work. Your feds shut me down. I'm lucky I didn't get shipped back to Moscow. You'll need to find someone else. I can't help you."
"Boris, it's okay. I think you've misunderstood something. I'm a reporter. Remember? The computer you hacked into belonged to a fellow reporter who was working with me on a story about Internet spying. She knew the malware you planted was there. It was all part of the project we were working on. Now we're doing a follow up story, but when I tested the software to see if it still worked I got an error message. That's why I need you to go back and plant a new program on her computer. Don't worry. It's all legit. She knows what you're doing, and you're not going to get into any trouble. And we're most certainly not going to mention your name in the story. Nor will we say anything about you that could make it easy for anyone to identify you. You'll just be an anonymous hacker."
After a long moment of silence Boris finally spoke up. "I think I'm starting to remember you now. You were with some magazine. I think it was somewhere in Nevada."
"That's right."
Boris' tone changed. "And as I recall, that article never ran."
"Yes, I know." Craig cleared his throat. "Unfortunately, the magazine went out of business before we'd finished the story. That's why it didn't run. However, we've recently found another publication that's expressed an interest, so we're reviving it. It'll be published at the end of the year."
"I see. So, who's publishing it?"
"What was that?"
"I asked which magazine will be publishing the story?"
Craig's patience was wearing thin. "Sorry, Boris, it's privileged information. I can't reveal it at this time."
Boris became hostile. "Really? So how do I know you're not trying to set me up? Nice try, Walker, but like I already told you, I'm no longer in the business. You'll have to find someone else."
Craig realized he had slipped up and he would have to think fast. "Look, Boris, I'm sorry if I upset you, but the contract I signed with the magazine included a nondisclosure agreement. I have to keep their name under wraps until the story runs. However, you can rest assured that I won't reveal my sources to anyone, not even the Federal Government. My credibility as a journalist depends on it."
"So you say."
Craig was becoming even more impatient. "And what does that mean?"
"It means I know all about your so-called shield laws, and they're not one hundred percent guaranteed. The feds could still force you to give me up."
"Look, Boris, no one will know who you are. Not the editor, or the publisher, or even the other reporter. I'm currently working on another story about undocumented immigrants, most of whom wish to remain anonymous, and I most certainly won't reveal their real identities either. That's what pseudonyms are for. As a matter of fact, I don't know your surname, or even if Boris is your real name. Nor do I need to know. All I know is you're some guy living somewhere in California, but I don't know exactly where."
After another long pause, Boris spoke up, but he had a condescending undertone in his voice.
"You couldn't spell my real name, much less pronounce it, but I admire your spunk, as you Americans call it. So, tell you what. I'll create some new spyware for you, and you can call me Roberto in your article. I've always liked the name Roberto. As soon as it's ready, I'll mail it to you on a flash drive. You just clink on a link to follow the instructions and it'll do the rest. But be forewarned, it's going to cost you, and I have to be paid in full, upfront, before I do anything."
"I understand. So, what's your fee?"
"An even thousand."
Craig felt a jolt. "What? Are you kidding me? You only charged me a fraction of that the last time."
"Times have changed, my friend. I already told you. I got caught and I now have a hefty fine to pay. So, I help you, and you help me. Take it or leave it."
Craig thought it over for a moment. Boris was one of the best hackers in the business. It would take some time for him to find someone else as good, and he didn't want to lose track of Rachel in the interim. He took a deep breath and hoped for the best.
"I really do need your help for this story, Boris. The magazine is counting on it, but we don't have that kind of money in the budget. Would you take five hundred?"
"Seven fifty." Boris' voice was firm.
Craig sighed loudly into the phone. "I don't think the magazine will go that high. I know for certain that I can get them to agree to six hundred, but that's pushing it. They won't go any higher. That I do know."
Boris hesitated for a moment. "All right, we have a deal. Six hundred. All payable in advance."
"I understand, and I'll have the money for you soon."
"Call me back when you have it, and I'll give you instructions on where to send it."
Boris disconnected the call while Craig pondered his computer screen. He had just billed a client six hundred dollars for a freelance job, and while he hated the idea of having to hand over his entire fee to Boris, he had to do whatever was necessary to keep tabs on Rachel. He glanced at his watch. It was time to get ready for work.