Game On: Tempting Twenty-Eight (Stephanie Plum #28)(71)

“Okay, so even if they did install some ransomware, I don’t see where it’s such a big deal. You’re the genius hacker. Can’t you just fix it?”

“They locked me out of a year’s worth of work precisely when I was about to execute the most spectacular hack and ransom demand of my career. I was about to become the most famous hacker of all time.”

“Hunh,” Lula said. “You don’t look like all that to me. Melvin might be a better hacker. He replaced the evening news with a classic porno. What were you going to do that could beat out Melvin?”

“I hacked into the Russian sector of the International Space Station,” Oswald said. “In case you don’t know, the ISS consists of various modules owned by Japan, the U.S., the EU, and the Russians. I was able to install software that enabled me to gain control of the ISS propulsion systems. I was about to ransom one hundred million dollars from each of the participants. If they didn’t pay up, I had the ability to crash the station into Moscow, Tokyo, Paris, or New York City.”

“Is that really possible?” I asked.

“Of course it’s possible,” Oswald said. “I was preparing to give a demonstration of my capabilities when the Baked Potatoes bumbled in and hijacked what had up to that point been a perfectly executed hack.”

“Would you really crash the space station into one of those cities if they don’t pay?”

“Without hesitation.” He grinned and his smiling face was even more frightening than his angry face. “Truth is, even if they pay up, I’ll crash the ISS regardless. NASA fired me from my consulting job and blacklisted me a decade ago. My ultimate revenge would be to take out Goddard Space Flight Center in Maryland.” More scary smiling. “Sweet, right?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Sweet.”

Omigod, I thought, this guy is completely insane. He’s like Dr. Evil in an Austin Powers movie. All he needs is a Mini Oswald.

“Can’t you just retrace your steps and sort of start over?” I asked him.

“It’s not something I can do overnight. However, what I can do in a relatively short amount of time is find the Baked Potato who’s keeping me from accessing the encrypted program I was using to control the ISS.”

“What happens when you find the Potato?”

“I’ll persuade him or her to remove the ransomware and the world will be good again.”

I suspected the world wouldn’t be good for the Potato.

“There are only two Potatoes left,” Oswald said. “I find it hard to believe Diesel won’t give them up to save your life.”

“How do you know it wasn’t one of the other Potatoes?”

“I know because I tortured them, and they had nothing to tell me.”

“And then after you tortured them, you killed them?”

“My fans would expect nothing less.”

I nodded. “Of course. I get that.”

I looked over at Lula and her eyes were rolling around in their sockets. I glanced down at my watch. Our little chat had used up forty-five minutes of my finger countdown.

“Are you still going to shut the grid down at midnight?” I asked Oswald.

“Probably. It depends on timing. Pulling the plug on the area’s electric will help me make my exit. Darkness and confusion are always helpful.”

Oswald took his laptop out of his backpack and set it on the card table.

“I have work to do now. I’m going to have to move you out of here,” he said. “We’re going down the hall to the bedroom on the left.”

“Ow,” Lula said, standing. “Ow, ow, ow.”

“You’re going to be the first one to lose a tongue,” Oswald said to Lula. “I’d cut it out now, but it leaves a mess.”

“That wouldn’t be good,” Lula said, “because I notice you keep your hidey-hole nice and neat. Even your dishes are clean in your dish rack. I bet your refrigerator has its jars all lined up and spotless. No ketchup smudges or anything. I’m surprised that you could tolerate all the blood involved in the throat slitting and tongue circumcision.”

“It was necessary,” he said. “I had to make a statement. I thought the tongue amputation was a nice touch. And while the blood is messy, the sight and feel of it is pleasant.”

“I would never have thought of that,” Lula said. “I bet you would have made a good butcher.”

I looked over at Oswald to see if he was going to kill Lula on the spot.

“I think you’re right,” he said, smiling. “I would have made a very good butcher.”

Lula walked into the middle of the bedroom and looked around. “There’s no furniture in here. How are we supposed to sit?”

“Not my problem,” Oswald said, stepping out of the room, closing and locking the door.

Lula went to the door and tried the handle. “Yep, it’s locked, all right.” She crossed the room and looked out the window. “There’s an alleyway down there and the building next to us looks worse than this one. The windows are dirty and some of them are broken. It looks abandoned.”

I looked out at the building. “Oswald said it was going to be torn down.”

Lula shimmied down a wall and sat against it. “Do you think Diesel will give up Melvin and Charlotte?”