Storm: A Rory Mack Steele Novel, #2

Chapter 1

Toronto, Canada

RORY MACK STEELE eagerly lifted the banana-nut muffin from its place beside his coffee to his mouth. It was still warm and the aroma was mouth watering–

Excuse me. Are you a private detective?

Closing his eyes, Rory hoped the voice would go away. He had just flown home after a tough case in the U.S. and he was tired. He wanted a double-double, this muffin, and some sleep before he started anything serious again.

Are you?

He let out a low breath and opened his eyes, looking to his left.

A young boy, about 8 years old, with dark skin, dark eyes, and dark hair combed into a faux-hawk, stood watching him from the side of the table.

Pausing with the muffin near his mouth, Rory said, "Actually, I'm a private investigator."

See, I told you.

Those words came from a boy about the same age as the first. But this one was white, with brown eyes and black hair combed into a faux-hawk. Only this faux-hawk was dyed a deep red.

Rory wasn't sure if the 'I told you' was good or bad.

The first boy set a dollar coin down on the table with a slight click, Well, we'd like to hire you anyway.

Looking down at the coin, Rory said, You want to hire me for a loonie?

The second boy said, See, I told you.

Rory still wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

The first boy looked reluctant but a moment later he set another coin down beside the first. Then he looked at his pal, Yeah, but without the toonie, we don't have any money left to buy anything.

The second boy shrugged, Sometimes you just got to pay, dude.

Rory suppressed a smile as he set the muffin down, placed his fingers on the dollar and two-dollar coins and slid them back and forth, So what do you two big spenders want to hire me to do?

Bust the bad guys, the first boy said.

I see. He looked from one boy to the next, I really should know who I'm dealing with.

The second boy nodded, Yeah, I feel you. I'm Trevor. That's Ronny. We're brothers.

I see.

Ronny and Trevor stood side by side, waiting.

Rory tapped on the two coins for a moment and then reached into the pocket of his jean jacket, pulling out a twenty-dollar bill, Before I take a case, I usually have a meeting to discuss the facts. He shrugged, You never know if it's something the police should handle and I stay away. He handed the bill to Ronny, Why don't you two go and get yourself something and we can sit and talk.

Ronny's eyes went big, Really?

Trevor tapped Ronny's arm with the back of his hand, Dude, he has an expense account. That's how they work.

Oh, yeah, right. Ronny turned and threaded his way through the crowd in the coffee shop, headed for the counter. He was followed closely by an enthusiastic Trevor.

Rory picked up his muffin and bit into it, savoring the taste of the butter. He was finished with it and sipping his coffee when the two boys returned with a tray, loaded with two coffees and a couple of muffins each.

As they sat down across from Rory, Ronny set the change on the table in front of Rory, Thanks.

Yeah, thanks, Trevor said as he set down a piece of paper beside the change, And here's the bill. So you can write it off.

Rory smiled to himself as the two divvied up the contents of the tray and dug into the muffins. He let them work away on those and the coffees for a few minutes before he broached the subject of the meeting, So who are these bad guys you want busted?

Ronny chewed on his mouthful for a moment, until he could swallow and said, They're gonna blow stuff up.

Trevor nodded his head, agreeing with his brother, Yeah, blow stuff up.

I see. And how do you know this?

Ronny stopped chewing and glanced at Trevor.

Trevor lowered his head and his voice as he looked at Ronny, See, I told you.

Yeah, I know, Ronny said in a low voice, but what are we gonna do?

Thinking about it for a moment, Trevor looked at Rory, Can't you just go after them?

I could, Rory said, if I know who they are.

Trevor's eyebrows knit together as he sat there, elbows on the table, thinking.

Ronny was looking at Trevor, waiting for some kind of answer to whatever dilemma they were having.

Rory picked up his coffee, This isn't like the National Hockey League, where I can look up the bad guys in the standings.

The two boys found that funny and they grinned at each other, relieving the serious moment they were having. But the amusement didn't last long and the serious, troubled looks descended on them again.

Ronny looked at Rory and shrugged, We just happened to get inside the backbone network for the Hammer and Tongs game on the PlayBot console.

Uh, huh, Rory said. "You just happened to get inside. As in hacking...?"

Trevor leaned to his brother and whispered, See, I told you.

Ronny whispered back, Well, we gotta tell somebody.

Turning back to Rory, Trevor leaned and tapped on the loonie and toonie they had given him. "You're working for us, right? That means it's all...." He searched for the word.

Confidential, Ronny whispered to Trevor.

Trevor lifted a finger, Yeah, that's right. It's confidential. You can't tell anybody.

It was Rory's turn to shrug, It all depends on what you're talking about. If you have a nuclear bomb in your bedroom, I think I'd have to tell somebody. Right?

The two boys looked at each other seriously and then nodded at each other.

Yeah, that makes sense, Ronny said finally.

Rory sipped his coffee and waited. The sounds of light conversation and laughter sounded around them.

Trevor finally shrugged again and said, We just wanted to win. You know?

Win what?

The game.

Everybody is playing it, Ronny added. He put his elbows on the table and leaned forward, Some of them have even gone pro.

Pro? What do you mean, pro? Rory asked.

For money, Trevor explained. There are tournaments and people go to them from all over and you can win prize money. You can even get a US P-1 visa like the hockey and baseball guys to go to the United States to play. There's gonna be a tournament here in Toronto. It's a regional final and we were hoping to qualify.

Yeah, Ronny said. It's not as big as the one in Las Vegas, but you have to win somewhere to get there. The last prize down there was for a million dollars.

You're kidding. Right? Rory asked.

Trevor put his hands out, Don't you watch Gamer TV? Everybody watches.

Not really, Rory admitted.

The two boys looked totally shocked that not everyone was watching. It comes on at 7, you should really watch. Especially the MOBA parts, Ronny said helpfully.

MOBA?

Multiplayer Online Battle Arena, Trevor said like Rory should know that.

Rory shook his head and made a circle in the air with his finger, Let's just roll it back to the stuff going boom. And try to stay on topic.

You sound like our teacher, Trevor complained.

Stuff going boom, Rory repeated with the air circles.

The two boys took a breath, turning serious again. Ronny was the one who started this time, We were just trying to win like he said.

Yeah, Marianna could really use the money, Trevor added.

Very nice of you, Rory said and twirled his finger again. He wondered who Marianna was but didn't dare add another fork to the conversation.

We just figured, if we knew what the other players were saying to each other when they team up, we would know their strategy, Ronny explained.

You mean cheat.

Trevor leaned forward, They have spies in real wars, don't they? He spread his arms out, So do we.

All's fair in love and war, Ronny said matter-of-factly. The two boys laughed and then Trevor made a gagging sound, Forget the love part." And they laughed again.

Rory spun the circles in the air and the two boys went serious again.

Ronny nodded and started the explanation again, You can talk to other gamers over headphones or you can send text messages to them to talk about what you're going to do.

We just found the text messages by breaking the encryption, Trevor added.

The text messages in the game are encrypted? Rory asked in surprise.

Trevor nodded, Yeah.

And you two broke the encryption.

Yeah, Ronny said matter-of-factly.

How did–? Never mind. So what did you find that told you someone was planning to use a bomb?"

Ronny shrugged, They were talking about the TATP they were making.

Rory sat up straighter, TATP? Are you sure–?

"Yeah, triacetone triperoxide, Trevor said, like a young man interested in all things that went boom.

We saw it on the Internet after they talked about that bombing on TV last month, Ronny added. You use hydrogen peroxide and–

"Guys, are you sure?" Rory asked.

The two boys both gave him a serious nod.

Rory felt his blood run cold. Professionals avoided TATP because it was highly unstable and there was a high degree of risk that you would blow yourself up and any home or apartment where you were making it. But TATP had been used frequently by terrorists and others in attacks since the 1980s, and especially now that the documents on how to make the explosive are easily obtained on the Internet. All you needed were $135 of common household products like drain cleaner, paint stripper and wood bleach and a few dangerous hours of your time and you were ready to make something go boom.

Chapter 2

RORY TOOK THE TWO BOYS OUTSIDE the Tim Horton's coffee shop, trying to figure out what to do. Going to the police would be the logical thing. But he didn't have proof or even confirmation of what the boys were saying. He looked at them, walking and balancing their way along the cement curb that surrounded a couple of small trees and bushes to the left of the parking spaces. The two boys were already antsy, looking to burst away into the sunshine and their next adventure.

He stepped from the walkway onto the parking lot, Okay, how about if we head over to your place and talk to your parents–?

We don't have parents, Ronny said matter-of-factly. He held his arms out, balancing his way around the curb behind Trevor.

Okay. So where do you live–?

Different places, Trevor said.

Different places?

Uh, huh.

Rory put his hands on his hips, wondering if the boys were screwing with him. And screwing with him about– then he got it. You mean foster homes?

Uh, huh.

At least that made sense. Okay, I'll take you home and we'll talk to your foster parents.

We don't have foster parents right now, Ronny told him.

Rory was beginning to feel frustrated, "Okay, let's go to wherever you are living and talk to whoever is taking care of you."

Trevor shrugged as he balanced his way around the cement curb, Marianna is not home right now. She's working.

Yeah, she works a lot, Ronny said, she's trying to keep clothes on our back.

Rory ran his hands through his black hair, Okay. So do you know who these people making the TATP are?

Trevor looked puzzled, "Do we know them?"

Yeah.

Trevor looked over at Ronny, who looked equally puzzled.

Guys, it's not that hard. It's a simple question. Do you know them? If you're playing them on the system, you have to know who–

Ronny shrugged, We play lots of guys we don't know.

Rory felt his frustration rising, Okay. Well...let's just go and you can show me how you got into the network and got the messages–

We can't do that, Trevor said.

His voice rose in anger, Why not?

The two boys stopped their balancing act and both hopped to the pavement. They looked at each other. See, I told you, Trevor said.

Rory's voice was firm and demanding, Told him what? Out with it.

Ronny's eyes were down as he shrugged, "We have two consoles at home. But...we used the school computer to...."

To hack into the network?

Trevor pushed his hands deep into the pockets of his blue jeans, Uh, huh. We're not supposed to. We'll get in trouble.

MUIR JUNIOR PUBLIC School

Rory stood next to the two young boys, just outside the classroom, as all three withered under the gaze of Miss Cassidy, a pretty young woman with blue eyes that were not too happy right now.

"You two boys know that going onto the Internet as well as this hacking activity is forbidden," Miss Cassidy said very strongly.

Yes, ma'am, Trevor said, eyes downcast.

Ronny merely nodded, his eyes glued to the floor.

Rory felt sorry for them but pushed on with more important matters, Miss Cassidy, I'll just have the boys show me how they used the computer to–

"Absolutely not!"

But, considering the situation–

Miss Cassidy's eyebrows shot up, "First of all, it's against policy to use the computers in that way. And secondly, I have no idea who you are. There are not your children and you have no right to make any decisions that affect them in any way, shape or form."

But–

Furthermore, Miss Cassidy intoned as she held a finger up in emphasis, "I hear tall tales from eight and nine-year-olds all day long. It's called imagination. She put her hands on the shoulders of the two boys, ushering them into the classroom as she shot a good day, sir," over her shoulder.

Rory had the classroom door closed in his face.

Chapter 3

Toronto Police Service

Division 53

DETECTIVE MARK CARSTON was a thin man with curly black hair and a thick, black mustache that fluttered when he talked. But right now he wasn't talking.

Rory sat in the battered wooden chair next to Carston's desk, conscious of the hustle and bustle around him as other detectives and officers did their best to deal with the variety of criminals and victims all pleading their cases. The air was ripe with fresh and stale coffee, old pizza and body sweat.

I don't know Mr. Steele, Carston said finally, his mustache flapping, getting a warrant to search the premises of this game company are slim and none. We've tried before in major cases and they basically refuse on the grounds they're protecting the privacy of their clients.

"But I'm pretty sure these boys are telling the truth. And if someone is planning on blowing something up– "

Carston held his hands up, Oh, I'm not saying I don't believe it, Mr. Steele. I mean, it is far-fetched, but I certainly don't want to be known as the copper who was responsible for the CN Tower being knocked down by a bunch of terrorists. He put his chin on his chest and ran a hand don his tie, No, sir. I take everything in this job very seriously. You just never know. Unfortunately, I really just don't have anything solid here to get a warrant. I've had much more and it didn't happen. He looked up at Rory, Look, what I will do is push this up to my superiors. I'll do everything I can to get the legal beagles to find some way to get access to this...did you say the backbone network for this game?

That's what the kids called it, Rory told him, I have no idea if that's an official term or not. He stood up and extended his hand, Thanks for your time, Detective. I'll leave it with you. If there is anything else I can do, just call Highlander Investigative Services and I'll get back to you.

Carston stood up and nodded as he shook Rory's hand, I know where to get hold of you. Thank you for coming in, Mr. Steele.

RYERSON UNIVERSITY

Since the police had no guarantee they could get a search warrant, Rory decided against simply leaving it to them. Maybe he could find a way to get more information that would help them. He took his Jaguar into the downtown core and made his way across the Ryerson campus to the computer labs. He found who he wanted in the third lab he looked into.

Paul DeSaram had been a young computer whiz who had gotten himself into trouble when he had become mixed up with a neighborhood gang. They all knew Paul's abilities to hack, crack and work with anything digital from computers to cell phones. Paul had done it for fun but the gang leaders saw the economic value and he was soon building small pieces of equipment to steal passwords at ATM machines and had hacked into one of the bank systems, draining a few bank accounts by the time he was stopped.

And it was Rory who stopped him, hired by his father who had suspicions of his son's involvement. Rory had figured out what was happening and turned the evidence over to the police. The gang leaders had tried to serve up the thirteen-year-old Paul to save their own skins. But Rory called in favors from the police and the crown, getting Paul community service.

Now he was here to get advice from Paul's father. Professor Edsel DeSaram was a member of the Ryerson's Science Faculty and a top computer scientist. Which was where young Paul had learned all his skills. The professor had felt guilty giving Paul the skills without instilling the moral values on how you used those skills.

Rory stepped into the immense computer lab where dozens and dozens of desks with computers monitors sat spread across the room under bright white lights. It was nearing ten and the lab was empty, except for one frizzy-haired man.

DeSaram turned, ready to shoo away the visitor until he realized who it was. Rory! He hustled across the floor.

Rory held out his hand but DeSaram grabbed him in a bear hug and he grunted from the squeeze.

Sorry about that, DeSaram said as he stepped back. But his eyes were filled with delight. How are you, my friend? What can I do for you?

I'm just looking for some advice. Rory went on to explained the situation.

DeSaram grew serious and his face clouded over as