“Well, he’s certainly not the one who built this system. I doubt the man even realizes how advanced his security is. You mentioned there were files detailing other companies?”
“Yeah,” Arthur pointed to a number of email threads to various organizations. “These three, at least, all containing incoming or outgoing transaction records. Can you pull the digital copies up?” Syler did and Arthur glanced through them. An export company, a manufacturing plant, and an automaker. “The sums in the files were all precise. Even thousands. They’ve been deposited to these accounts from the dummies.”
“Payments for something possibly. Hang on,” Syler highlighted a specific ledger, Pyrona Inc., launching a search on the name. “This doesn’t exist. It’s a shell.”
“Do the dummy accounts match up with the shell?” Syler nodded. “So the funds are being stolen by someone, but probably not Oliveria.”
“Shame he doesn’t have a document titled ‘Evil Plans For Stolen Funds,’ for all that it’s more work for us to sort out.”
“Always good to know I have some job security,” Arthur quipped. “Don’t suppose you can get anything with that back door worm you had me install?”
“No, it’ll let me see anything Oliveria does moving forward, but unless he does decide to leave a road map, I suspect you’ll be going on another trip soon to see about locating whomever is actually in charge. In all possibility, it’s one of the other companies and Oliveria is just the cash manager. I’ll put together a report for the Director.” He dismissed Arthur with a casual nod, refocusing his attention on the files and opening a blank report form on his main computer to begin compiling the dossier in question. “That’ll be all I need from you today. Thank you, Agent.”
Arthur’s posture relaxed at that, blue eyes getting a mischievous look to them again. Syler suddenly became aware of the hand gently resting on his shoulder. “In that case, what do you say you and I—”
“No.” Syler didn’t have the energy for another round of the older man’s nonsense. Not today, not ever, certainly not in the workplace with a man who tried to get himself killed for a living.
“You didn’t even let me finish.” The other man sounded almost put out.
“If you want to subject something to more of your atrocious flirting, try the coat rack. It’ll be more receptive.”
Arthur laughed, tucking his hands back into his pockets, safely away from Syler’s shoulders. “Oh, come on, you know you like me.” Syler fixed him with a look, appraising. Arthur gave him a cheeky grin.
“I deny everything.” Arthur deflated a bit. “That said,” Syler continued, “I suppose it is good to have you back intact. KIA paperwork is a real bitch to fill out and I need someone to keep the minions occupied during lulls.”
“Careful, Mr. Perrin. I might take that as encouragement,” Arthur teased, preparing to leave all the same.
“Perish the thought.” He returned to the dossier. “Have a good evening, Agent Dufault.”
Nine
“He’s demanding you again,” Jason announced, appearing in the doorway of the testing lab without preamble. Under other circumstances, Syler thought, the pleading quality to his brown eyes might’ve been comical. “Please, for the love of god, put me out of my misery. Miranda might kill me if I don’t come back with you.”
The problem with being better than everyone else at what you do, Syler reflected, is that certain individuals will eventually refuse to settle for anyone else, even when someone else would absolutely do. In fact, the other people assigned were arguably overqualified to do the job, but try telling that to the overgrown man child that was his senior field agent, presumably currently throwing a fit over the comms at this very moment, and interrupting what should have been a pleasant morning spent tinkering with new gadgets before facing down an afternoon of bureaucracy laden meetings.
“If we keep giving in, he wins,” Syler commented, already internally resigned. This was three missions now that Dufault had demanded his attention and bullied his initial handler into getting it.
“Boss, he already has,” Alvarez replied, mustache twitching worriedly. “Something, something, ‘give me someone who can actually hack into these security cameras or I’ll get shot before I can get within range of the main office.’ Apparently, the security is tighter than anticipated. Miranda and I both hit a wall.”
Syler focused immediately. He’d outfitted Dufault with a prototype key fob meant to seamlessly and discreetly pair with any on-site security cameras and transmit the data back to operations for rapid access. The Bulgarian export company Dufault had been sent to follow up on after his assignment to Brazil shouldn’t be so heavily guarded as to render it unusable, just as Oliveria’s computer networks shouldn’t have been so well secured. He set aside his soldering iron, expression appropriately forlorn at leaving behind his miniature grenade launcher. “Yes, alright. I’ll take a crack at it then.”
Jason followed him out of the lab, trailing behind him as they made their way back to central control from the R&D section of operations as if he were afraid he’d make a break for it if he weren’t escorted. Syler resisted the urge to scoff. He was going to have to have a conversation with Dufault about the concept of manners again. Scaring the minions was to be expected, but his shift managers? Unacceptable.
Miranda’s eyes locked onto him the moment he entered the room, dark curls frazzled out of her usually neat twists, face tense. “S, could you spare a hand? Dufault got past the initial security, but he’s held down by the sheer volume of guards and I can’t even touch their system without triggering an alert.”
“Understood. Benson, you and Alvarez review their records again. Something isn’t adding up.” Syler stepped up to the command desk, slipping on a headset and keying into the correct frequency. “Agent Dufault, I have you.”
“Thank fuck,” came the emphatic reply from the agent. Miranda,
