Thursday, December 3rd
THE HACKER was the king of indecision. After last night, he came to the conclusion that it was too dangerous to wait any longer. Kendall was not returning calls, and he had no way to contact the mastermind behind the heist. Supposedly Kendall was in Brazil, but from the Hacker's point of view, Kendall could have already jumped ship, just waiting for the money to come in before he vanished with a new identity ready to be activated. Like the Hacker himself was about to do.
So this morning, between waking up and taking a much-needed shower, the Hacker logged into the Strom Defense computer network with his regular work credentials and then skillfully switched identities without leaving a trace. With one command, he executed the money transfer to the bank that handled all the tax and public fees of Strom Defense. The transfer was a monthly one, and this one in particular was now a few days too early. As the year—and the fourth quarter—came to an end, the transfer sum for a company the size of Strom Defense was particularly large, around two hundred million dollars. Half of that money was the prepayment of profit taxes, a cool hundred million dollars. The only difference was that this time the payment wouldn't find its way to the British Tax Master but to a different account at the same bank, held under the name of a dummy company, artfully named "Miller Smith Braxton Tax Accounting."
Whatever got posted into that account was transferred immediately to three other offshore accounts: one-third for George Kendall, the management enabler, one-third for the unknown mystery organizer of this little project, and one-third for the Hacker who had made it technically possible.
Tomorrow, thirty-three million dollars would be waiting for him in his Cayman Island account, immediately to be transferred to another offshore account, and then on to one more. The Organizer had given Kendall and the Hacker clear instructions what they had to do in order to make the money trail fizzle out in the depth of the international money laundering system.
The Hacker had prepared for the next day, Day X. The transaction was his last action as an employee of Strom Defense. From this moment on, he was a fugitive of the law. But, as a nice compensation, from this moment on, he was also part of the jet set with a nice fat cushion of money to keep him soft and warm. Thirty-three million dollars of comfort.
Later, he would simply pick up his travel bag that held his new fake identity, some cash, and the business class ticket to Sao Paulo, ready to leave the same evening. He was not worried that anyone would find out for a while. From the perspective of his employer, the taxes had been paid. The tax authority had not received anything, but that was not unusual. After the official tax report of profit and loss came in, later in the next year, then the official tax payment statement would be issued. The only thing the non-payment meant was that the tax master of the crown was able to charge Strom Defense interest payments, which would come down to around four million dollars more for England. Everybody wins, right? Except for fucking Strom Defense.
The Hacker had to giggle. He had executed one of the biggest robberies in history sitting in his kitchen in his dirty underwear.