* * * * * Monday, December 7 New York City The phone on Scott Mason's desk had been unusually, but grateful- ly quiet. Higgins had been able to keep the First State lawyers at bay with the mounds of information the paper had accumulated on MacMillan's doings. The bank's stock was trading again, but at a dilution of over 75%. Most individual customers had cashed out their accounts, including Higgins, and only those long term portfolios remained. Scott's stories on First Bank had won him recognition by his peers. No awards, but an accolade at the New York Journalists Club dinner. Not bad, he thought. Now the hard work continued for him. The full background analy- ses, additional proof, more witnesses now that Sidneys was under Federal indictment and out of work. MacMillan was in trouble, but it was clear to Scott, that if the heat got turned up too much, there was a cache of millions offshore for the person with the right access codes. His phone rang. "Scott Mason." "Hey, Scott this is Kirk. We gotta talk, I'm in trouble." Kirk sounded panicked. "Damn Klingons," Scott cracked. "Seriously, I'm in trouble. You gotta help me out." Scott realized this was no prank. "Sure, sure, calm down. What happened?" "They found me, and they got into my computer and now it's gone . . .shit, I'm in trouble. You gotta help me." "Kirk!" Scott shouted. "Kirk, relax, ground yourself. You're not making sense. Take it from the beginning." Kirk exhaled heavily in Scott's ear, taking several deep breaths. "O.K., I'm O.K., but should we be talking on the phone?" "Hey, you called me . . .," Scott said with irritation. "Yeah, I know, but I'm not thinking so good. You're right, I'll call you tonight." Click. * * * * * Nightline was running its closing credits when Scott's home computer beeped at him. Though Kirk had not told him when to expect a call, all other communications had begun precisely at midnight, so Scott made a reasonable deduction. The dormant video screen came to life as the first message appeared. MASON That was unlike Kirk to start a conversation that way. wtfo ITS ME. KIRK. Now it was Scott's turn to be suspicious. Prove it. AW CMON Prove it. I CALLED YOU TODAY So did half of the crack pots in New York I'M IN TROUBLE So were the others. OK. WE WENT THROUGH THE BANK AND HAD SOME FUN WITH PRESSED RAT AND WHARTHOG, INC. Good enough. You sound as scared here as you did on the phone. I thought computers didn't have emotion. I DO. OK, what's up. THEY FOUND ME Who? THE PEOPLE FROM FIRST STATE BANK. How? What? I RECEIVED A MESSAGE ON MY COMPUTER, E-MAIL. IT SAID, STAY AWAY FROM FIRST STATE BANK. YOUR HACKING CAREER IS OVER. OR ELSE. What did you do? CALLED A FEW FRIENDS WHO THINK THEY'RE FUNNY. And? HONOR AMONG THIEVES. IT WASN'T THEM. SO I FIGURED IT WAS FOR REAL. You sure?