The Boy with the Dragon Tattoo
Title: Boy with the Dragon Tattoo
Summary: Anti-social hacker Eugene Roe finds himself stalking the computer of idealistic young journalist Edward ‘Babe’ Heffron and uncharacteristically takes a personal interest.
Word Count: 5,023
Pairing: Babe/Roe pre-slash
Rating: At least PG-13 for some violence, language and skeevy politicians.
Definitely inspired by staying up late and reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Cross posted to ihave_no_idea and Camp Toccoa .
Disclaimer: I’m not making any money off of writing this story. It’s entirely fictional and based on the performances given in the HBO miniseries Band of Brothers and not the actual soldiers. Any ideas or phrases borrowed from the novel Girl with the Dragon Tattoo belong to the writer of that book, not me. I don’t own anything…so please don’t sue me. I wrote it for your enjoyment so…enjoy!
On Sunday nights, Harry’s bar was open until 2 AM the following day, the only place on an otherwise respectable street that didn’t close early on the Lord’s day of rest. It mostly catered to young up-incomers of the district that wouldn’t tarnish their images by drinking in any of the places that Eugene would typically frequent. Their manner of dress was always near impeccable with just a bit of ruffle to show that they’d been working hard all day, their conversations professionally passionate and their manner of socializing rather boring. Gene didn’t think much of them. But then he didn’t think much of Washington D.C in general.
The bar was just crowded enough that no one paid any attention to the stoic and odd young man in the corner, who might have otherwise stuck out with his odd tattoos and piercings. That was the way it should have been. Despite his eccentric (to some) manner of dress, Eugene Roe did not like being the center of attention. He also did not like having to follow his subjects to yuppie bars.
Eugene was, technically speaking, a freelance private investigator. At least that’s how his boss, Richard Winters, defined him. The man ran a top of the line private security firm whose services were in constant demand in the nation’s capital where important and sensitive information was par the course. One of their areas of expertise was running thorough background investigations that looked into more than a person’s finances and documented history, but poked into their personal lives as well.
The more important the case, the more detailed the background search was expected to be. The harder the subject was to investigate, the better the money was. Those were the only cases Eugene accepted. His refusal of other jobs was likely why Winters had branded him a freelancer.
Yet Gene’s acceptance of a job wasn’t about the money. In actuality he considered the whole thing to be more of a hobby than anything else. No-he accepted jobs because they were challenging. And when he turned his report on a subject into Winters it was always detailed, lengthy, and well cited. His boss, if he could be called that, had once told Gene that he did his job with a scientific accuracy.
Gene could learn anything about anyone and if you were usually looking for someone squeaky clean, then he wasn’t the person you wanted doing the investigating. Everyone had secrets, some were dangerous or disturbing while others were harmless and laughable but everyone had them. And no one was better than Gene at figuring out what they were.
Although if Winters knew that Gene gathered this private information by illegally hacking the computers of those he investigated then he doubted the man would be so pleased with his job performance. But computers could tell you everything you needed to know about someone. What they liked, what they hated, what they ate, what they really thought, what turned them on, what grossed them out. Computers were people’s diaries but they couldn’t contain their secrets, not when Eugene cracked his way in.
However sometimes one could only get so much information from a computer. Which is why he had followed the young lawyer he was investigating to the bar he was currently playing wallflower in.
The young man in question was incredibly paranoid and tended to use his computer for professional reasons only. Gene had checked his finances and phone calls enough to know he was diligently hiding something, he just didn’t know what. Then the man had received a rather generic e-mail instructing him to be at Harry’s bar at 11:30 PM. So Eugene had made sure to be there at 10:50 PM.
He had only been waiting for around 20 minutes when the lawyer walked in the door, looking as if he were dressed for a date. Gene sipped at his beer and continued to wait…the sender of the e-mail couldn’t be far behind. If they weren’t there already. Whether this would amount to anything at all remained to be seen.
Although most people didn’t send anonymous and encrypted e-mails just for a booty call. Something was up and Gene was about to find out what the man had been so good at hiding.
Suddenly there was movement in his peripheral and Gene decided to revise his earlier assumption as another man saddled up to his lawyer at the bar and the two exchanged warm, but polite, greetings. Yet the two didn’t stay long and were soon headed for the door- the newcomer’s hand resting on the small of the lawyer’s back.
Gene downed the remainder of his drink before getting up to follow them. He walked out into the cool night air, weaving his way through other late night drinkers who were loitering outside the establishment. He saw the stealthy pair’s hands brush deliberately and stopped in his tracks.
So it was a gay affair that the lawyer was hiding. Not all that devious considering that he was otherwise single. But it could certainly be career damaging as the young man had political aspirations. However Gene could omit anything he wanted from the final report, and given his own sexual preference he figured that he could leave this detail of the man’s life out when filing his findings for the big law firm that was interested in hiring him.
Giving a mental shrug, Gene considered his work to be done for the night. All he had to do now was print out the existing report and try to sneak it onto Winters desk without being seen. The older man was nothing but kindness and good intentions and he was constantly trying to look out for Eugene. It was problematic because Gene didn’t want anyone to concern themselves with his welfare and Winters had a way of disarming people with his gentle smiles. Avoidance was the best route to ensure that his boss never succeeded in befriending him.
He started to walk to the nearest bus station when the sounds of a struggle taking place reached his ears. Gene turned to witness two figures, just on the fringes of Harry’s bar but hidden well in the darkness of an alleyway, shoving and cursing at one another. He made his way over silently but kept a healthy distance so he could observe and determine whether or not to get involved.
It was a small woman in a pretty dress whom was doing all the struggling-a bigger man gripping her forearm tightly and jerking her forward to hiss in her ear. Gene frowned and looked around at all the bystanders who were doing nothing.
Other than hypocrites, the thing Gene despised the most were those who preyed on people at an obvious disadvantage. If no one else was going to step in then Eugene didn’t mind teaching the guy a lesson he had obviously never learned. It was only a shame he didn’t have his taser on him. But his fists would work too.
Except things took another unexpected turn. For when Gene began to step in, there was someone ahead of him already. Gene hung back and watched as a thin, red-headed and (oh so) young man in sensible khakis and an un-tucked button down shouted at the pair before rushing over.
The scene played out less violently than it would have had Gene stepped in, but it got the job done. Even though the suit was bigger and taller than the girl’s savior the kid got right up in her attacker’s face, all attitude, and hollered a few obscene words before shoving him roughly against a brick wall. He then suggested that the man beat it or risk getting a foot up his ass.
Gene drifted closer, slightly disappointed that the kid hadn’t roughed the man up. He tilted his head and listened to the ensuing conversation in the ally.
“Hey are you gonna be okay?”
There was a sniffle of choked back tears. “I’m fine, it was nothing.”
“Yeah it looked like nothing. What’s your name?”
“None of your business.” The girl replied angrily as Gene heard her get to her feet.
The young man sighed, “Well fine ‘None of your Business’- do you want me to call someone for you?”
“What I want is for you to leave me alone! I know who you are and you’re not going to find a story here.” She snapped in the face of his kindness.
“If you think I just came over here for some story then you must be surrounded by some real nice people in your life. Look I just want to help but you obviously don’t feel it’s needed. Try to stay away from that dill hole. Next time someone might not come to your rescue.”
“Whatever. Fucking reporters.”
With that the girl came stumbling out of the alleyway, her mascara streaked and dress torn. Her savior, though it was clear to Gene she didn’t view him that way, followed after her.
In the clear night sky he looked even younger than Gene had expected. He could have passed for 19…hell maybe he WAS 19…Eugene didn’t know.
He ran long fingers through his short and bright red hair before contorting his sweet looking face into a grimace. “Fuck it.” He muttered in an odd accent (though Gene could hardly point fingers, having a slight Cajun accent himself) and heading back into Harry’s.
Gene, curiosity peaked by this do-gooding (possible teenaged) reporter, found himself headed back in as well. A few well phrased questions would tell him what he wanted to know.
As Gene sat on the bus headed back to his hole of an apartment, he contemplated two things. First- why it was unfair that he couldn’t successfully tail anyone on his motorcycle and was always stuck on a smelly bus. Second- that he might like to look in on this reporter just a bit.
He had learned from the bartender that the kid was a regular. His name was Edward Heffron but all of his buddies called him Babe because he looked so young. Gene thought that it suited him- besides reporters were known to have nicknames in their journalistic circles.
Heffron was 24, only two years younger than Eugene, and was a reporter for D.C Daily, a left wing newspaper that was run off the young blood of its dedicated reporters. Heffron must have slit someone’s throat to get a spot on the staff.
The paper typically reported on politics only and was known for its investigative journalism. This made Gene curious about why the girl in the ally had been convinced Heffron was after a story.
Which in turn only convinced Eugene that he wanted to know more. And if he wanted to know more he was going to have to buy another Cuff- the device that made it possible to control someone’s computer- because the lawyer’s dog had eaten his last one.
And the only person who made them was Luz.
“Are you sure you don’t want any?” Luz asked Gene for the second time since letting him inside.
Eugene regarded the joint that his fellow hacker was extending to him. He looked back at Luz, “I’m working.”
Luz just laughed loudly. “Bullshit.”
The other man was the only other hacker that Gene ever really socialized with. He was just a sociable person. A tiny brunette with a big grin, big mouth and big personality. He was also a technical genius. He wasn’t as good at hacking as Gene was but he more than made up for it with the trinkets he produced.
“Besides you’re more likely to get frisky if you’re high and I heard you got a new tattoo.” The small man grinned up at him from the floor of his sloppy apartment.
Gene stomped down a blush and threw a wad of cash at him, “I need another Cuff.”
Luz rolled his eyes but got to his feet. “Dude you JUST bought one.”
“Well now I’m buying another one.”
Bending down to rummage through his mess of gadgets Luz pulled the small device out and handed it to Gene. As Gene reached out to grab it however, the other man jerked it away.
“No but seriously where’s the new tat?” Luz joked. “I mean I’ve seen all your other ones.”
Here the hacker waggled his eyebrows. Luz was the only person Gene typically had sex with more than once. They were friends…well as much as Gene was friends with anybody and it was nice to not have one night stands all the time.
Yet instead of answering him, Gene snatched the hacking device away and popped Luz upside the head. “I didn’t get another one you little gossip.”
“Hmm. Shame.” Luz sighed, “So do you want this guy’s address or not?”
Gene glared, Luz had connections everywhere and they were constantly updating him on everything so it was no surprise that Luz knew he was looking into someone.
“Please,” he replied. “I can get his address. Don’t forget- I’m the hacker and you’re the mechanic.”
“Harsh dude.”
Snooping out the guy’s address wasn’t hard for a hacker as good as Eugene and even though it was in a far off and nicer part of town than where Gene lived, it was as good a reason as any to rev up his bike.
The motorcycle was a Christmas present he’d bought himself. A new Kawasaki Versys and he had spent a ridiculous amount of money on it. He allowed himself a smile as he grabbed his helmet on the way out the door.
For the next few days Gene stalked the young journalist’s computer. He was (of course) politically active, graduated from Penn, was a Philly native and kept up a fierce correspondence with a man back home named Bill. His computer was overtaken with pictures of his adorable four year old niece Katie and he had questionable taste in music. Too much Bob Dylan for Gene’s taste.
There was zero porn on there, which was...odd but not unheard of and he wrote articles that never got published- which was a damn shame because they were very good in Gene’s opinion. He thought all politicians were crooks, was allergic to shell fish and apparently got very drunk at a party a week ago and made out with a colleague that he was now avoiding like the plague.
His best friend at work was a young feminist named Doris who consistently sent him e-mails during work and it was in a more private non-work related e-mail that the incident at Harry’s was finally mentioned.
So you know your theory that all men are pigs?
-Babe
Ugh I never said that. But yeah…what of it?
Doris
Last Sunday, when you cut out early, I saw a guy roughing up a girl behind Harry’s. I broke it up and it was Senator Conrad’s aide and his secretary. It was fucked up. She knew I was a journalist and she told me to fuck off.
-Babe
Okay Babe first of all- enough with the hero complex! You’re going to get your ass kicked one of these days or worse. Secondly we all know that Conrad’s a fucking hypocritical chickenshit who lets his staff run wild. How is this news?
Doris
That’s just the thing. It ISN’T news. WE all know that but we can’t prove it. I can’t help but wonder ‘what if?’ What if that girl had talked to me? Maybe we could finally expose Conrad for the creep he is. I mean you shoulda seen this poor girl. And that shit Rudy saw? That’s fucked up. Whatever I just hate this.
-Babe
Me too. But you need proof kiddo.
Gene stared at the e-mails in interest. If all Babe needed was proof- then Gene could get him that. Then maybe the guy could publish one of the articles that Gene knew he was capable of writing and expose a crooked politician while he was at it.
It looked like Gene had a new case.
Investigation really was an art form and Gene used his most sophisticated techniques to uncover hidden away documents and to read between the lines of financial reports or vague e-mails. It was what made him a good investigator.
However sometimes these skills weren’t needed. Because sometimes the people whose computer he was hacking were so full of themselves that they must have thought they were above the law. Who would really be stupid enough to keep so many incriminating documents, photos, videos and e-mails on one hard drive?
Apparently Senator Conrad of Indiana was.
The man not only had financial reports that showed suspicious sums of money coming in from obviously bogus companies, but he even had an e-mail stating to make sure that documents were falsified to make it appear as if he used it for charitable donations. The money was then sent to an off shore account.
With a bit more digging Gene learned he was making political campaigns on behalf of evangelical interest groups. Too bad his personal life didn’t reflect the politics he was being handsomely paid to represent.
He was a married man with two kids who was having sex with at least two of his interns and one secretary. Likely the woman whose aid Babe had rushed to. The kicker was- she was now pregnant. In an e-mail to one of his aide’s the Senator made it very clear just how un-Christian like he was behaving.
I can’t believe that bitch thinks she’s going to blackmail me. Either she gets the abortion or you PERSUADE her to get the abortion. Do you understand?
The aide’s e-mail back made Gene concerned.
We had a chat over behind Harry’s. She was going to tell her girlfriends about it I think. That fucking Heffron kid from Daily got involved. I didn’t want to make it look any worse so I left.
If that made him concerned then the Senator’s reply lit a fire under him.
Why the FUCK didn’t you tell me sooner? Look take Carlson and pay this kid a visit. See what he knows and make it clear he isn’t going to tell anyone. Or we all are going to be screwed.
Gene quickly checked the date of the e-mail. Sent this morning…then maybe they hadn’t bothered Babe yet.
The hacker checked the clock on his wall- it was only 10 minutes after 6. Today was Thursday and Babe never went out on Thursdays, he just went straight home. He wouldn’t be headed out of the office for another hour or so. Hmm but would Conrad be bold enough to send guys to Babe’s workplace?
By now Gene knew how the man thought. With a grimace he grabbed his jacket, helmet and a couple of necessary items before heading out.
The area around Babe’s small house was well lit so Gene parked his bike behind a truck a few houses over and waited casually out of sight.
After about an hour he noticed a silver Volvo pull up to the side of the street opposite the young journalist’s house. Babe drove a blue Ford…this was likely Conrad’s guy.
When two guys in casual clothes stepped out of the vehicle, one at least four times as big as Eugene, that’s when he knew for certain. They walked over to Heffron’s house casually and pretended to knock. But Gene could tell they were, in fact, picking the lock.
Babe didn’t have a security system as far as Gene knew, so when the journalist got back from a likely tiring day of work, the two men would be waiting in his living room for him.
Gene frowned and dismounted his bike. Slipping off his riding gloves he replaced them with a tighter fit that would mask his fingerprints but were still capable of surviving a little wear and tear. He slid his taser into the back of his jeans and began to make his way over to Babe’s place.
He stopped, however, and reevaluated the big man. The taser wouldn’t be enough for him. Furthermore did he really want to do this in the middle of Heffron’s living room?
Deciding that he needed to think this through just a teensy bit more Gene scanned his immediate surroundings. Lounging attractively against the side of a nearby house was a set of golf clubs and Gene sauntered over to inspect them. Settling on a sturdy looking driver he headed over to the silver Volvo.
Something that nice was bound to have some sort security. He smashed the windshield in with the golf club and grinned as the alarm set off.
Sure enough, the two geniuses rushed out of Heffron’s house to check on their car. Gene crouched down behind the vehicle and waited as they frantically turned off the alarm, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention to their presence.
He heard their curses and watched as the larger set of feet made their way over to Gene’s hiding spot. When he got close enough to notice the hacker Gene pulled the driver back and swung it into the big man’s knee cap with a sickening crunch.
As the man screamed, his partner- Conrad’s aide- rushed over and Gene whacked him in the side fiercely. The larger man grabbed Gene’s arm tightly and the hacker whirled around and tasered him directly in the gut.
While he was writhing on the ground in pain Gene stepped over him and made his way to the Senator’s aide who was lying in a heap on the sidewalk, not moving much after Gene’s initial blow.
Gene crouched down and gripped the hair on the back of his head tightly, jerking the aide’s face up, not enough to see him directly but enough so that Gene could tell he was conscious.
“Breaking into people’s homes isn’t very nice. Don’t do it again.” He hissed viciously at the aide. Then, just because he thought that the man had gotten off too easy back at Harry’s, he punched him in the face, splitting his lip. Hopefully Conrad would see it and get the message.
Stay the fuck away from Babe Heffron.
Not sure that they’d be smart enough to scram, Gene found a rock and threw it through Babe’s living room window. Hopefully that would be enough for the journalist to call the cops.
Heading back to his bike, Gene dropped the driver into the back of the truck he was behind and pulled on his helmet.
He had more than enough evidence on Conrad to give Babe the biggest story of his admittedly short career. And since things had taken a dangerous turn, it was probably time to give the journalist all he had.
The Sunday night after an incredibly long week, Babe let his head drop onto the counter of Harry’s bar in exhaustion. His story that issue on the amendment that was sure to kill the Colorado wilderness bill had been scathing and he knew it had called wildlife groups to arms- it had even made the front page!
But despite that the interviews and the sources and the sneakiness was pissing him off. Why were politicians more interested in fighting each other than doing anything of real importance? Why did the Colorado wilderness have to get screwed because of their pettiness? Ugh the whole thing sucked.
On top of that someone had thrown a rock threw his window and it had cost Babe a shit load to replace. Plus now he kept thinking someone was going o break in. All in all? It had been an exhausting week.
“So you’re avoiding me,” stated a cheerful voice to his left.
Babe shot up so quickly his vision went out. He glanced over nervously to see his attractive colleague, Chuck Grant, grinning at him. Babe managed a weak smile, “Avoiding isn’t the word I’d use. Just uh…keeping a respectable distance.”
Chuck rolled his eyes and leaned back against the bar, his arm brushing Babe’s. “Look I know you were drunk and maybe you think the whole thing was stupid but I do like you. I wish you’d just admit that you like me too.”
At that Babe sighed. Because he DID like Chuck. How could he not? The older man was smart and funny and a damn good reporter. Plus he was just a good guy.
“Yeah but Chuck man…we work together.” Babe explained. The whole thing had been bothering him for a long time.
“And?” Chuck prompted with a frown. “It’s not like I’m your boss or anything.”
How could Babe explain this?
“It’s just that I’m still the new guy.” Babe told him. “I need to establish myself at the paper. I can’t be sleeping with you and expect any of the senior staff members to respect me. Not right now.”
At this Chuck sighed, likely because he knew that Babe was right. “Still,” the blond man said, “I want to be more than your friend. I can wait if that’s what you want. You’re safe with me kid.”
That said Chuck leaned in and kissed Babe softly on the lips. Babe just gave him a smile, “Yeah I know.”
Chuck nodded, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
Babe watched him go with a frown. This was such a shitty week. He motioned the pretty young bartender-Kitty-over to him.
“What do you want Babe?” She asked with a grin. She was always the bartender when Babe and his crowd was there. They were friends at this point.
“Do you sell whiskey by the bottles here?”
“As if. I’ll get you a beer though.” She replied.
Suddenly there was a presence at his right and a richly accented voice mumbled, “Make that two. His is on me.”
Kitty shrugged and accepted the bill that a shockingly white hand had slid in front of her. Babe turned in confusion to see a young man slightly shorter than him with a pale face and a natural frown. His hair was spiky and so black it could have been blue. He was wearing faded jeans and a well loved black leather jacket. There was a ring piercing on his lower lip, two studs on his right eyebrow and one in his nose and Babe could see a tattoo of a dragon curling up around his neck.
“Hi.” He managed to squeak out as the pierced man stared at him intensely with dark eyes.
Suddenly Kitty was back with their drinks. “Here you go.” She said plopping their beers down. She tried to hand the man his change but he just held his hand up.
“Keep it.” He told her and she thanked him before rushing off to help another customer. Babe’s odd companion nodded over the journalist’s shoulder and he turned to see that he was nodding at where Chuck had gotten off to.
“That your boyfriend?” The guy asked.
Babe shook his head. “Um not really. Look-who are you?”
The man grabbed both his and Babe’s beers and motioned to an empty table at the back of the bar. “Follow me.” He instructed and Babe was too tired to argue.
Besides he really needed that beer.
Cautiously he followed the strange man and sat across from him. The guy offered him his beer and Babe shrugged and took it. He twisted it open and drank some as the man just watched him.
Finally Babe cracked. “Okay dude seriously? What?” He asked the man in frustration.
The side of the guy’s mouth twitched in what might have been a smile. “I have something for you.”
Riiight. “It’s not in the trunk of your car is it?” Babe asked only half joking. This guy was starting to creep him out.
However when the man blinked at him in confusion Babe felt oddly relieved. He ignored the question and produced a book from out of nowhere. It was a new mystery novel that Babe had been wanting to read.
He looked at the guy curiously. “Uh…thanks?”
“Turn to page 334.”
Babe did so and scrunched his eyebrows in confusion when he saw a computer memory stick lying between the pages. “What the Hell is this?”
“That’s everything you need to prove that a certain politician is just the kind of scum you’ve long suspected he was.” The mysterious man informed him.
Gaping up at him all Babe could ask was, “Who the Hell are you?”
The man shrugged, “Call me Gene. All that matter is that I want to help you.”
“Why?”
“Because I saw what happened in that ally last Sunday.” Gene told him.
At that Babe froze. He was talking about Senator Conrad. He must have seen Babe’s confrontation with the two people on his staff. Any misgivings he had about this Gene character were suddenly overshadowed by his intense desire to bring Conrad down. The two sat in silence for a moment.
“Trust me when I tell you that everything you need to expose that creep is on there.” Gene said with conviction in his otherwise emotionless voice. “But if you run this story I have to be an anonymous source.”
Babe looked at him in astonishment, “Of course you’re anonymous! I don’t know who the Hell you really are.”
“Check the last page.”
Quickly leafing through the book Babe found a note scribbled on the back cover.
I’m a friend. You need proof for your stories and I know how to get it. I can help you. Be there Friday if you have questions.
Friday? Babe looked up to express his concerns but the boy with the dragon tattoo was already gone. Looking around in confusion he checked the book over once again until a piece of paper fell out.
It was a movie ticket for a Friday showing of Mr. Smith goes to Washington, one of Babe’s favorites. Was this guy stalking him?
He needed answers and knew he’d show at the theater. Something in his gut told him that if he trusted the strange man- he wouldn’t be disappointed. Leaving his beer mostly untouched Babe grabbed the novel and all its contents and made his way out of Harry’s.
He just might have his story after all.
Summary: Anti-social hacker Eugene Roe finds himself stalking the computer of idealistic young journalist Edward ‘Babe’ Heffron and uncharacteristically takes a personal interest.
Word Count: 5,023
Pairing: Babe/Roe pre-slash
Rating: At least PG-13 for some violence, language and skeevy politicians.
Definitely inspired by staying up late and reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Cross posted to ihave_no_idea and Camp Toccoa .
Disclaimer: I’m not making any money off of writing this story. It’s entirely fictional and based on the performances given in the HBO miniseries Band of Brothers and not the actual soldiers. Any ideas or phrases borrowed from the novel Girl with the Dragon Tattoo belong to the writer of that book, not me. I don’t own anything…so please don’t sue me. I wrote it for your enjoyment so…enjoy!
On Sunday nights, Harry’s bar was open until 2 AM the following day, the only place on an otherwise respectable street that didn’t close early on the Lord’s day of rest. It mostly catered to young up-incomers of the district that wouldn’t tarnish their images by drinking in any of the places that Eugene would typically frequent. Their manner of dress was always near impeccable with just a bit of ruffle to show that they’d been working hard all day, their conversations professionally passionate and their manner of socializing rather boring. Gene didn’t think much of them. But then he didn’t think much of Washington D.C in general.
The bar was just crowded enough that no one paid any attention to the stoic and odd young man in the corner, who might have otherwise stuck out with his odd tattoos and piercings. That was the way it should have been. Despite his eccentric (to some) manner of dress, Eugene Roe did not like being the center of attention. He also did not like having to follow his subjects to yuppie bars.
Eugene was, technically speaking, a freelance private investigator. At least that’s how his boss, Richard Winters, defined him. The man ran a top of the line private security firm whose services were in constant demand in the nation’s capital where important and sensitive information was par the course. One of their areas of expertise was running thorough background investigations that looked into more than a person’s finances and documented history, but poked into their personal lives as well.
The more important the case, the more detailed the background search was expected to be. The harder the subject was to investigate, the better the money was. Those were the only cases Eugene accepted. His refusal of other jobs was likely why Winters had branded him a freelancer.
Yet Gene’s acceptance of a job wasn’t about the money. In actuality he considered the whole thing to be more of a hobby than anything else. No-he accepted jobs because they were challenging. And when he turned his report on a subject into Winters it was always detailed, lengthy, and well cited. His boss, if he could be called that, had once told Gene that he did his job with a scientific accuracy.
Gene could learn anything about anyone and if you were usually looking for someone squeaky clean, then he wasn’t the person you wanted doing the investigating. Everyone had secrets, some were dangerous or disturbing while others were harmless and laughable but everyone had them. And no one was better than Gene at figuring out what they were.
Although if Winters knew that Gene gathered this private information by illegally hacking the computers of those he investigated then he doubted the man would be so pleased with his job performance. But computers could tell you everything you needed to know about someone. What they liked, what they hated, what they ate, what they really thought, what turned them on, what grossed them out. Computers were people’s diaries but they couldn’t contain their secrets, not when Eugene cracked his way in.
However sometimes one could only get so much information from a computer. Which is why he had followed the young lawyer he was investigating to the bar he was currently playing wallflower in.
The young man in question was incredibly paranoid and tended to use his computer for professional reasons only. Gene had checked his finances and phone calls enough to know he was diligently hiding something, he just didn’t know what. Then the man had received a rather generic e-mail instructing him to be at Harry’s bar at 11:30 PM. So Eugene had made sure to be there at 10:50 PM.
He had only been waiting for around 20 minutes when the lawyer walked in the door, looking as if he were dressed for a date. Gene sipped at his beer and continued to wait…the sender of the e-mail couldn’t be far behind. If they weren’t there already. Whether this would amount to anything at all remained to be seen.
Although most people didn’t send anonymous and encrypted e-mails just for a booty call. Something was up and Gene was about to find out what the man had been so good at hiding.
Suddenly there was movement in his peripheral and Gene decided to revise his earlier assumption as another man saddled up to his lawyer at the bar and the two exchanged warm, but polite, greetings. Yet the two didn’t stay long and were soon headed for the door- the newcomer’s hand resting on the small of the lawyer’s back.
Gene downed the remainder of his drink before getting up to follow them. He walked out into the cool night air, weaving his way through other late night drinkers who were loitering outside the establishment. He saw the stealthy pair’s hands brush deliberately and stopped in his tracks.
So it was a gay affair that the lawyer was hiding. Not all that devious considering that he was otherwise single. But it could certainly be career damaging as the young man had political aspirations. However Gene could omit anything he wanted from the final report, and given his own sexual preference he figured that he could leave this detail of the man’s life out when filing his findings for the big law firm that was interested in hiring him.
Giving a mental shrug, Gene considered his work to be done for the night. All he had to do now was print out the existing report and try to sneak it onto Winters desk without being seen. The older man was nothing but kindness and good intentions and he was constantly trying to look out for Eugene. It was problematic because Gene didn’t want anyone to concern themselves with his welfare and Winters had a way of disarming people with his gentle smiles. Avoidance was the best route to ensure that his boss never succeeded in befriending him.
He started to walk to the nearest bus station when the sounds of a struggle taking place reached his ears. Gene turned to witness two figures, just on the fringes of Harry’s bar but hidden well in the darkness of an alleyway, shoving and cursing at one another. He made his way over silently but kept a healthy distance so he could observe and determine whether or not to get involved.
It was a small woman in a pretty dress whom was doing all the struggling-a bigger man gripping her forearm tightly and jerking her forward to hiss in her ear. Gene frowned and looked around at all the bystanders who were doing nothing.
Other than hypocrites, the thing Gene despised the most were those who preyed on people at an obvious disadvantage. If no one else was going to step in then Eugene didn’t mind teaching the guy a lesson he had obviously never learned. It was only a shame he didn’t have his taser on him. But his fists would work too.
Except things took another unexpected turn. For when Gene began to step in, there was someone ahead of him already. Gene hung back and watched as a thin, red-headed and (oh so) young man in sensible khakis and an un-tucked button down shouted at the pair before rushing over.
The scene played out less violently than it would have had Gene stepped in, but it got the job done. Even though the suit was bigger and taller than the girl’s savior the kid got right up in her attacker’s face, all attitude, and hollered a few obscene words before shoving him roughly against a brick wall. He then suggested that the man beat it or risk getting a foot up his ass.
Gene drifted closer, slightly disappointed that the kid hadn’t roughed the man up. He tilted his head and listened to the ensuing conversation in the ally.
“Hey are you gonna be okay?”
There was a sniffle of choked back tears. “I’m fine, it was nothing.”
“Yeah it looked like nothing. What’s your name?”
“None of your business.” The girl replied angrily as Gene heard her get to her feet.
The young man sighed, “Well fine ‘None of your Business’- do you want me to call someone for you?”
“What I want is for you to leave me alone! I know who you are and you’re not going to find a story here.” She snapped in the face of his kindness.
“If you think I just came over here for some story then you must be surrounded by some real nice people in your life. Look I just want to help but you obviously don’t feel it’s needed. Try to stay away from that dill hole. Next time someone might not come to your rescue.”
“Whatever. Fucking reporters.”
With that the girl came stumbling out of the alleyway, her mascara streaked and dress torn. Her savior, though it was clear to Gene she didn’t view him that way, followed after her.
In the clear night sky he looked even younger than Gene had expected. He could have passed for 19…hell maybe he WAS 19…Eugene didn’t know.
He ran long fingers through his short and bright red hair before contorting his sweet looking face into a grimace. “Fuck it.” He muttered in an odd accent (though Gene could hardly point fingers, having a slight Cajun accent himself) and heading back into Harry’s.
Gene, curiosity peaked by this do-gooding (possible teenaged) reporter, found himself headed back in as well. A few well phrased questions would tell him what he wanted to know.
As Gene sat on the bus headed back to his hole of an apartment, he contemplated two things. First- why it was unfair that he couldn’t successfully tail anyone on his motorcycle and was always stuck on a smelly bus. Second- that he might like to look in on this reporter just a bit.
He had learned from the bartender that the kid was a regular. His name was Edward Heffron but all of his buddies called him Babe because he looked so young. Gene thought that it suited him- besides reporters were known to have nicknames in their journalistic circles.
Heffron was 24, only two years younger than Eugene, and was a reporter for D.C Daily, a left wing newspaper that was run off the young blood of its dedicated reporters. Heffron must have slit someone’s throat to get a spot on the staff.
The paper typically reported on politics only and was known for its investigative journalism. This made Gene curious about why the girl in the ally had been convinced Heffron was after a story.
Which in turn only convinced Eugene that he wanted to know more. And if he wanted to know more he was going to have to buy another Cuff- the device that made it possible to control someone’s computer- because the lawyer’s dog had eaten his last one.
And the only person who made them was Luz.
“Are you sure you don’t want any?” Luz asked Gene for the second time since letting him inside.
Eugene regarded the joint that his fellow hacker was extending to him. He looked back at Luz, “I’m working.”
Luz just laughed loudly. “Bullshit.”
The other man was the only other hacker that Gene ever really socialized with. He was just a sociable person. A tiny brunette with a big grin, big mouth and big personality. He was also a technical genius. He wasn’t as good at hacking as Gene was but he more than made up for it with the trinkets he produced.
“Besides you’re more likely to get frisky if you’re high and I heard you got a new tattoo.” The small man grinned up at him from the floor of his sloppy apartment.
Gene stomped down a blush and threw a wad of cash at him, “I need another Cuff.”
Luz rolled his eyes but got to his feet. “Dude you JUST bought one.”
“Well now I’m buying another one.”
Bending down to rummage through his mess of gadgets Luz pulled the small device out and handed it to Gene. As Gene reached out to grab it however, the other man jerked it away.
“No but seriously where’s the new tat?” Luz joked. “I mean I’ve seen all your other ones.”
Here the hacker waggled his eyebrows. Luz was the only person Gene typically had sex with more than once. They were friends…well as much as Gene was friends with anybody and it was nice to not have one night stands all the time.
Yet instead of answering him, Gene snatched the hacking device away and popped Luz upside the head. “I didn’t get another one you little gossip.”
“Hmm. Shame.” Luz sighed, “So do you want this guy’s address or not?”
Gene glared, Luz had connections everywhere and they were constantly updating him on everything so it was no surprise that Luz knew he was looking into someone.
“Please,” he replied. “I can get his address. Don’t forget- I’m the hacker and you’re the mechanic.”
“Harsh dude.”
Snooping out the guy’s address wasn’t hard for a hacker as good as Eugene and even though it was in a far off and nicer part of town than where Gene lived, it was as good a reason as any to rev up his bike.
The motorcycle was a Christmas present he’d bought himself. A new Kawasaki Versys and he had spent a ridiculous amount of money on it. He allowed himself a smile as he grabbed his helmet on the way out the door.
For the next few days Gene stalked the young journalist’s computer. He was (of course) politically active, graduated from Penn, was a Philly native and kept up a fierce correspondence with a man back home named Bill. His computer was overtaken with pictures of his adorable four year old niece Katie and he had questionable taste in music. Too much Bob Dylan for Gene’s taste.
There was zero porn on there, which was...odd but not unheard of and he wrote articles that never got published- which was a damn shame because they were very good in Gene’s opinion. He thought all politicians were crooks, was allergic to shell fish and apparently got very drunk at a party a week ago and made out with a colleague that he was now avoiding like the plague.
His best friend at work was a young feminist named Doris who consistently sent him e-mails during work and it was in a more private non-work related e-mail that the incident at Harry’s was finally mentioned.
So you know your theory that all men are pigs?
-Babe
Ugh I never said that. But yeah…what of it?
Doris
Last Sunday, when you cut out early, I saw a guy roughing up a girl behind Harry’s. I broke it up and it was Senator Conrad’s aide and his secretary. It was fucked up. She knew I was a journalist and she told me to fuck off.
-Babe
Okay Babe first of all- enough with the hero complex! You’re going to get your ass kicked one of these days or worse. Secondly we all know that Conrad’s a fucking hypocritical chickenshit who lets his staff run wild. How is this news?
Doris
That’s just the thing. It ISN’T news. WE all know that but we can’t prove it. I can’t help but wonder ‘what if?’ What if that girl had talked to me? Maybe we could finally expose Conrad for the creep he is. I mean you shoulda seen this poor girl. And that shit Rudy saw? That’s fucked up. Whatever I just hate this.
-Babe
Me too. But you need proof kiddo.
Gene stared at the e-mails in interest. If all Babe needed was proof- then Gene could get him that. Then maybe the guy could publish one of the articles that Gene knew he was capable of writing and expose a crooked politician while he was at it.
It looked like Gene had a new case.
Investigation really was an art form and Gene used his most sophisticated techniques to uncover hidden away documents and to read between the lines of financial reports or vague e-mails. It was what made him a good investigator.
However sometimes these skills weren’t needed. Because sometimes the people whose computer he was hacking were so full of themselves that they must have thought they were above the law. Who would really be stupid enough to keep so many incriminating documents, photos, videos and e-mails on one hard drive?
Apparently Senator Conrad of Indiana was.
The man not only had financial reports that showed suspicious sums of money coming in from obviously bogus companies, but he even had an e-mail stating to make sure that documents were falsified to make it appear as if he used it for charitable donations. The money was then sent to an off shore account.
With a bit more digging Gene learned he was making political campaigns on behalf of evangelical interest groups. Too bad his personal life didn’t reflect the politics he was being handsomely paid to represent.
He was a married man with two kids who was having sex with at least two of his interns and one secretary. Likely the woman whose aid Babe had rushed to. The kicker was- she was now pregnant. In an e-mail to one of his aide’s the Senator made it very clear just how un-Christian like he was behaving.
I can’t believe that bitch thinks she’s going to blackmail me. Either she gets the abortion or you PERSUADE her to get the abortion. Do you understand?
The aide’s e-mail back made Gene concerned.
We had a chat over behind Harry’s. She was going to tell her girlfriends about it I think. That fucking Heffron kid from Daily got involved. I didn’t want to make it look any worse so I left.
If that made him concerned then the Senator’s reply lit a fire under him.
Why the FUCK didn’t you tell me sooner? Look take Carlson and pay this kid a visit. See what he knows and make it clear he isn’t going to tell anyone. Or we all are going to be screwed.
Gene quickly checked the date of the e-mail. Sent this morning…then maybe they hadn’t bothered Babe yet.
The hacker checked the clock on his wall- it was only 10 minutes after 6. Today was Thursday and Babe never went out on Thursdays, he just went straight home. He wouldn’t be headed out of the office for another hour or so. Hmm but would Conrad be bold enough to send guys to Babe’s workplace?
By now Gene knew how the man thought. With a grimace he grabbed his jacket, helmet and a couple of necessary items before heading out.
The area around Babe’s small house was well lit so Gene parked his bike behind a truck a few houses over and waited casually out of sight.
After about an hour he noticed a silver Volvo pull up to the side of the street opposite the young journalist’s house. Babe drove a blue Ford…this was likely Conrad’s guy.
When two guys in casual clothes stepped out of the vehicle, one at least four times as big as Eugene, that’s when he knew for certain. They walked over to Heffron’s house casually and pretended to knock. But Gene could tell they were, in fact, picking the lock.
Babe didn’t have a security system as far as Gene knew, so when the journalist got back from a likely tiring day of work, the two men would be waiting in his living room for him.
Gene frowned and dismounted his bike. Slipping off his riding gloves he replaced them with a tighter fit that would mask his fingerprints but were still capable of surviving a little wear and tear. He slid his taser into the back of his jeans and began to make his way over to Babe’s place.
He stopped, however, and reevaluated the big man. The taser wouldn’t be enough for him. Furthermore did he really want to do this in the middle of Heffron’s living room?
Deciding that he needed to think this through just a teensy bit more Gene scanned his immediate surroundings. Lounging attractively against the side of a nearby house was a set of golf clubs and Gene sauntered over to inspect them. Settling on a sturdy looking driver he headed over to the silver Volvo.
Something that nice was bound to have some sort security. He smashed the windshield in with the golf club and grinned as the alarm set off.
Sure enough, the two geniuses rushed out of Heffron’s house to check on their car. Gene crouched down behind the vehicle and waited as they frantically turned off the alarm, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention to their presence.
He heard their curses and watched as the larger set of feet made their way over to Gene’s hiding spot. When he got close enough to notice the hacker Gene pulled the driver back and swung it into the big man’s knee cap with a sickening crunch.
As the man screamed, his partner- Conrad’s aide- rushed over and Gene whacked him in the side fiercely. The larger man grabbed Gene’s arm tightly and the hacker whirled around and tasered him directly in the gut.
While he was writhing on the ground in pain Gene stepped over him and made his way to the Senator’s aide who was lying in a heap on the sidewalk, not moving much after Gene’s initial blow.
Gene crouched down and gripped the hair on the back of his head tightly, jerking the aide’s face up, not enough to see him directly but enough so that Gene could tell he was conscious.
“Breaking into people’s homes isn’t very nice. Don’t do it again.” He hissed viciously at the aide. Then, just because he thought that the man had gotten off too easy back at Harry’s, he punched him in the face, splitting his lip. Hopefully Conrad would see it and get the message.
Stay the fuck away from Babe Heffron.
Not sure that they’d be smart enough to scram, Gene found a rock and threw it through Babe’s living room window. Hopefully that would be enough for the journalist to call the cops.
Heading back to his bike, Gene dropped the driver into the back of the truck he was behind and pulled on his helmet.
He had more than enough evidence on Conrad to give Babe the biggest story of his admittedly short career. And since things had taken a dangerous turn, it was probably time to give the journalist all he had.
The Sunday night after an incredibly long week, Babe let his head drop onto the counter of Harry’s bar in exhaustion. His story that issue on the amendment that was sure to kill the Colorado wilderness bill had been scathing and he knew it had called wildlife groups to arms- it had even made the front page!
But despite that the interviews and the sources and the sneakiness was pissing him off. Why were politicians more interested in fighting each other than doing anything of real importance? Why did the Colorado wilderness have to get screwed because of their pettiness? Ugh the whole thing sucked.
On top of that someone had thrown a rock threw his window and it had cost Babe a shit load to replace. Plus now he kept thinking someone was going o break in. All in all? It had been an exhausting week.
“So you’re avoiding me,” stated a cheerful voice to his left.
Babe shot up so quickly his vision went out. He glanced over nervously to see his attractive colleague, Chuck Grant, grinning at him. Babe managed a weak smile, “Avoiding isn’t the word I’d use. Just uh…keeping a respectable distance.”
Chuck rolled his eyes and leaned back against the bar, his arm brushing Babe’s. “Look I know you were drunk and maybe you think the whole thing was stupid but I do like you. I wish you’d just admit that you like me too.”
At that Babe sighed. Because he DID like Chuck. How could he not? The older man was smart and funny and a damn good reporter. Plus he was just a good guy.
“Yeah but Chuck man…we work together.” Babe explained. The whole thing had been bothering him for a long time.
“And?” Chuck prompted with a frown. “It’s not like I’m your boss or anything.”
How could Babe explain this?
“It’s just that I’m still the new guy.” Babe told him. “I need to establish myself at the paper. I can’t be sleeping with you and expect any of the senior staff members to respect me. Not right now.”
At this Chuck sighed, likely because he knew that Babe was right. “Still,” the blond man said, “I want to be more than your friend. I can wait if that’s what you want. You’re safe with me kid.”
That said Chuck leaned in and kissed Babe softly on the lips. Babe just gave him a smile, “Yeah I know.”
Chuck nodded, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
Babe watched him go with a frown. This was such a shitty week. He motioned the pretty young bartender-Kitty-over to him.
“What do you want Babe?” She asked with a grin. She was always the bartender when Babe and his crowd was there. They were friends at this point.
“Do you sell whiskey by the bottles here?”
“As if. I’ll get you a beer though.” She replied.
Suddenly there was a presence at his right and a richly accented voice mumbled, “Make that two. His is on me.”
Kitty shrugged and accepted the bill that a shockingly white hand had slid in front of her. Babe turned in confusion to see a young man slightly shorter than him with a pale face and a natural frown. His hair was spiky and so black it could have been blue. He was wearing faded jeans and a well loved black leather jacket. There was a ring piercing on his lower lip, two studs on his right eyebrow and one in his nose and Babe could see a tattoo of a dragon curling up around his neck.
“Hi.” He managed to squeak out as the pierced man stared at him intensely with dark eyes.
Suddenly Kitty was back with their drinks. “Here you go.” She said plopping their beers down. She tried to hand the man his change but he just held his hand up.
“Keep it.” He told her and she thanked him before rushing off to help another customer. Babe’s odd companion nodded over the journalist’s shoulder and he turned to see that he was nodding at where Chuck had gotten off to.
“That your boyfriend?” The guy asked.
Babe shook his head. “Um not really. Look-who are you?”
The man grabbed both his and Babe’s beers and motioned to an empty table at the back of the bar. “Follow me.” He instructed and Babe was too tired to argue.
Besides he really needed that beer.
Cautiously he followed the strange man and sat across from him. The guy offered him his beer and Babe shrugged and took it. He twisted it open and drank some as the man just watched him.
Finally Babe cracked. “Okay dude seriously? What?” He asked the man in frustration.
The side of the guy’s mouth twitched in what might have been a smile. “I have something for you.”
Riiight. “It’s not in the trunk of your car is it?” Babe asked only half joking. This guy was starting to creep him out.
However when the man blinked at him in confusion Babe felt oddly relieved. He ignored the question and produced a book from out of nowhere. It was a new mystery novel that Babe had been wanting to read.
He looked at the guy curiously. “Uh…thanks?”
“Turn to page 334.”
Babe did so and scrunched his eyebrows in confusion when he saw a computer memory stick lying between the pages. “What the Hell is this?”
“That’s everything you need to prove that a certain politician is just the kind of scum you’ve long suspected he was.” The mysterious man informed him.
Gaping up at him all Babe could ask was, “Who the Hell are you?”
The man shrugged, “Call me Gene. All that matter is that I want to help you.”
“Why?”
“Because I saw what happened in that ally last Sunday.” Gene told him.
At that Babe froze. He was talking about Senator Conrad. He must have seen Babe’s confrontation with the two people on his staff. Any misgivings he had about this Gene character were suddenly overshadowed by his intense desire to bring Conrad down. The two sat in silence for a moment.
“Trust me when I tell you that everything you need to expose that creep is on there.” Gene said with conviction in his otherwise emotionless voice. “But if you run this story I have to be an anonymous source.”
Babe looked at him in astonishment, “Of course you’re anonymous! I don’t know who the Hell you really are.”
“Check the last page.”
Quickly leafing through the book Babe found a note scribbled on the back cover.
I’m a friend. You need proof for your stories and I know how to get it. I can help you. Be there Friday if you have questions.
Friday? Babe looked up to express his concerns but the boy with the dragon tattoo was already gone. Looking around in confusion he checked the book over once again until a piece of paper fell out.
It was a movie ticket for a Friday showing of Mr. Smith goes to Washington, one of Babe’s favorites. Was this guy stalking him?
He needed answers and knew he’d show at the theater. Something in his gut told him that if he trusted the strange man- he wouldn’t be disappointed. Leaving his beer mostly untouched Babe grabbed the novel and all its contents and made his way out of Harry’s.
He just might have his story after all.