Page 39 of It Takes a Thief

Of course, I put out feelers among our brother clubs, covering pretty much the entire area from Los Angeles to Vegas to Albuquerque. Nothing. The Cutlasses were as scarce as a liberal in Texas, and I was even starting to get my hopes up that they’d pulled up stakes.

Wolf Glaser continued his story.

“I raced in there, spraying a whole bottle of sugarless maple syrup on the ground as I ran.” I rolled my eyes, as did Lytton. Unnecessary details. “I skidded around the corner, expecting to see you-know-who’s cracked-out crack face on my monitor. But he wasn’t. The screen was frozen on a picture of some old-timey chick on horseback, but it was definitely Noodlum’s voice coming from my speakers.”

“The skill level of a hacker like that,” said Tobiah, “is almost unheard-of. Glaser claims he hadn’t clicked on anything unusual that day and certainly didn’t open any suspicious emails, so to be able to freeze the screen like that—”

“Why the old-timey chick, I want to know?” Wolf frowned.

“—is frankly beyond even my skill level. What’s strange is you say he’s got brain damage. It might’ve actually enhanced the activity of his frontal lobe, the part of the brain known to handle reasoning, planning, and problem solving.”

“Could be,” I said, brushing that particular bit of science aside. “So what’d he say?”

Wolf continued. “Oh, he chortled with glee and that sort of stuff. He congratulated me on stopping the paver from running rampant. He gloated over the fact that we hit the wrong house.”

Rub it in, why not. “Yes, but what was his purpose today?”

“He said we need to be on YouTube at exactly three PM”—we all checked the time on our phones—“for an important message from him.”

We had a few minutes. I asked Tobiah, “You got a safe computer we can use for YouTube?”

“Sure,” Tobiah said. “I’ve got a laptop that’s junky and it’s not networked to anything else.”

I asked Wolf, “And there was no way to tell where the signal was coming from?”

Wolf said, “Well, obviously the computer was frozen as long as he spoke. When it was restored to me, I hacked away, looking for any IMSI catcher or stingray—”

Toby butted in. “An IMSI catcher would be like a fake mobile tower between his real phone and the telecom tower, so Glaser should’ve checked his phone.”

“I did that, you nerd! What kind of peckerhead do you think I am?”

“A very large one, apparently.”

“Boys, boys,” said Lytton, splaying his fingertips on both men’s chests. “We’ve only got a couple minutes. Let’s get to Toby’s laptop.”

Lytton went in his front door first. Tobiah and Wolf tried to enter at the same time. Neither was willing to accede to the other, so they wound up like two stooges, squished in the doorjamb, just waving their trapped arms like they were pantomiming texting. They resorted to trying to kick each other sideways.

“Nerdlinger.”

“Airplane face.”

“Virginity shield.”

“Neo maxi-zoom dweebie.”

“Come on, you dorkmeisters,” I said, shoving each one of them from behind.

They popped free, stumbling and cursing, and we were able to get to Tobiah’s command central before the deadline.

Tobiah’s office, like most rooms in the house, faced out on the stunning Coconino National Forest, where ponderosa pine made spiky ridges. Up at the elevation of Lytton’s house there was almost a tundra-like feel, colorful moss clinging to boulders. Tobiah had worked his way into a sweet scene. He logged onto YouTube.

“I don’t know what’s supposed to happen,” he said.

“Will Noodlum just take control of YouTube?” asked Wolfe.

Tobiah scoffed. “I don’t see how that’s possible,” he said, but he didn’t seem too certain.

There was a ding, an incoming email for Toby. The subject matter was Click at your own risk. Seemed a stupid warning to put on a link that would certainly lead to doom and destruction, but Toby had no choice.