The Fool's Run

We had to steal them.
    The only way to do that was to get into the users’ homes. We could copy the code-carrying software and leave behind a concealed bug that would relay computer traffic. If the whole business looked like an ordinary burglary, no one would suspect that computer security had been penetrated.
    Once we had the codes, though, we had to start using them, because the damn things expire. And once we attacked the Whitemark computer, we had to keep the attack rolling. When Whitemark figured out what was happening, they would isolate the computer system and shut us out.
    It was a matter of doing everything at once. It wasn’t good, but there was no choice.
     
    BOBBY’S RESEARCH TURNED up a long list of potential burglary targets. Dace knew Washington like only a local newsman can, and LuEllen cross-examined him on street layouts, crime rates, and landscaping styles. As we narrowed the list of prospects to a dozen, Bobby went into the credit companies and pulled out full reports on the primary targets.
    Late in the afternoon, with the list down to a handful of solid possibilities and their files in hand, we broke for dinner.
    I drove, LuEllen in the front seat beside me, Dace in the back. As we stopped at the curb cut before entering the street, LuEllen reached over and touched my hand on the steering wheel, while turning to look at Dace.
    “Okay, guys,” she said, smiling, “I don’t want anybody to look. But when we came out the door, there was a guy sitting in the driver’s seat of that green van up the street. I think he was looking for us in his outside mirror, and when we came out he looked back at us. Now he’s not in the driver’s seat anymore. He’s not around. I think he’s in the back of the van.”
    “Watching us?” asked Dace, not looking at the van. It was thirty feet up the street, on the opposite side.
    “I’m paranoid,” said LuEllen. “I got a funny vibe when he looked at us. It was like our eyes met.”
    “We can’t just sit here,” I said. I looked both ways and turned down the street toward the van.
    “Dace, you look,” LuEllen said. “Like you’re talking to me, but look past my head and see if there’s anybody in the front seat.”
    We passed the van and Dace grunted, “Nobody.”
    “Shit,” said LuEllen.
    “Maybe the guy was just getting out when you saw him and he left while we were walking to the car,” Dace suggested.
    “Nope,” I said, looking in the rearview mirror. “The van just pulled out. He’s coming after us.” The van driver waited until there was another car between us, then fell in behind. LuEllen casually turned her head and watched for a few seconds and then turned back to me.
    “What the fuck is this, Kidd?” she demanded.
    “I don’t know. We haven’t made a move yet.”
    “You’ve been doing the computer stuff. Could the cops be monitoring already?”
    “No. That’s too paranoid,” I said. “There are probably a half million data transmissions every day in this town.”
    She watched the van for another minute. “Well, then what?” she asked impatiently.
    “I don’t know, but he’s breaking off, whoever he is,” I said. The van had followed a few blocks, but as we approached a traffic light at a major intersection, it slowed, waited for two additional cars to get between us, then did a U-turn, and headed back toward the apartment.
    I took a left, drove a block, took another left, and headed back after it.
    “Go past the apartments and come back from the other side. They won’t be looking in that direction,” LuEllen said.
    When we got back, the van was parked on the street directly in front of the building. A tall man in green maintenance coveralls was just getting out of the back and when he slammed the door, the van pulled another half block up the street and stopped.
    “So there are two of them,” LuEllen said. “The outside guy is a lookout. The inside man has a radio or maybe a beeper.”
    “So now what?” asked Dace.
    LuEllen looked at me. “Our security must be fucked,” she said.
    “It’s not right,” I repeated. “For somebody to be onto us, it’d have to be the biggest coincidence in the world.”
    “So what are we doing?” Dace asked.
    “A million bucks,” I said. I thought about it. “We don’t even know if we’re the targets. If we are, and we can take the guy inside, we might find out what’s going on. We haven’t broken any serious laws yet. If we catch a guy in the place,