Cyber Kittens and Cowboys (7 page)

“Little smart ass, what’s her plot here?”
Geneva curses.

“She knows the CIA operative, BOA.” Stockton
guesses.

Geneva neck snaps to me. “Impossible,
Stockton! But…the little bitch knows something worth her time to
steal or maybe kill for it.”

“Kill, ya gone loco, Geneva. That girl’s got
killer looks, not killer bang, bang intentions.” Stockton
adjusts.

Geneva balls finger pads into fists, threats,
hotly. “I need to find BOA…now. I…am…so close….within my grasp. I
can’t believe my rotten luck.”

“Ask Preston for help, this is his arena,
FBI, fairy buttholes of investigators. But I admit that them Cyber
cowboys are good, really damn good.” Stockton works, swiftly
computer & writes, slowly down GPS locations.

“Preston will not help me.”

Stockton talks, complimentary. “I beg to
differ.”

“Preston hates me. This is my problem with
Pamela and he’d be thrilled to find out and more thrilled if I
fail.”

“He’ll fail, instead.” Stockton hints,
chuckles, lightly.

Geneva spits, hotly. “Why?”

“He has a secret.”

“I beg to differ.” Geneva shakes, sideways
blonde skull.

“Preston’s not the goody-good kid your
imagination ponders, Geneva.”

Geneva adjusts, flatly. “I…me…I’m not looking
for any sexual relationship with Preston. He’s…”

“…gots himself a relationship with some other
pretty little kitty?” Stockton toots in tenor trumpet.

“Who cares, Stockton?”

“You’re really dense, Geneva.” Stockton
frowns, ugly, sits on edge of her desk.

“Doesn’t matter to me?”

“It should matter a great deal.” Stockton
grins, toothy, winks, funny.

Geneva parks fists on hips. “I give. What are
you not trying to tell me, Stockton?”

“Preston likes to play with Pamela.” Stockton
tattles, loudly.

“I’m floored.” She pauses, dramatically.
“…but definitely suspicious. Are you certain of this extraordinary
relationship, Stockton?”

Stockton holds three finger pads in air like
good boy scout. “Actually, I swear as an eyewitness.”

Geneva parts, widely lips, inquires,
curiously. “What, you saw them outside work, together like some
kind of dating couple?”

“I met her car parked on Preston’s street
during my spying mission. Ya remember, told me to watch the
babies.” Stockton swings legs off desk like kid in park.

“You scant, you like Preston.” Geneva peels
lips curvy, shoots, fiery.

Stockton frowns, ugly, strikes back, swiftly.
“Don’t insult my ego, Geneva. I’m straight pin straight. But, I do
wonder about you?”

Geneva bites, stingingly. “Don’t bruise your
nose sucking it up my ass. I strive to keep my private life…
private.”

“You’re straight. I’m straight. And…Preston
is definitely healthy heterosexual male.” Stockton concludes,
socially, grins, toothy, hops off deck, moves to chair.

Geneva voices, devilishly, sits on edge of
desk, chuckles, lightly. “Forget the sex part. I can use this. Yes.
I can use Preston to find Pamela for me. Give phone track to Ilenn,
I have another project for you, Stockton to be completed ASAP.”

“What’s your new plan, Geneva?”

“To get both Pamela and Preston.” She laughs,
evilly & dials familiar telephone number on landline waiting,
patiently on connection. She demands, authoritatively. “Preston, be
here….” Geneva stands, swiftly. “WHAT?” She reacts, violently then
shakes, vertically dirty blonde skull. “I’m right here, Preston.
Not leaving any time. Yes. I’ll be waiting for your arrival in 15
minutes.”

Time 10:31 am. Birmingham University
Computer Center. 10th Avenue & 14th Street.
Pamela taps,
briskly into computer room on 2nd floor of “Burn U”. She enters
& swings, left & waves, flirtatiously at corner video
cameras used to observe students committing evil crimes. She
scoots, quietly chair from table then sits, quickly & types,
rapidly her professional ID and password from work on college
desktop accessing her professional work email, files, databases and
most importantly secret personal credit cards accounts of her
fellow co-workers. Camera views only her head and shoulders as she
clicks on keypad & smiles, sweetly.

While learning on Geneva’s workstation about
IP address concepts, she had used Geneva’s work sign-on and
password freeing her own work ID for use. By now, CIA was
investigating Geneva, first about the mysterious hacking from her
PC giving Pamela more time to figure out how to get out of
trouble.

Geneva, of course will blame Pamela for the
entire hacking and attacking of CIA website while trying,
unsuccessfully to collect illegal information about an agent
nicknamed “BOA.” Pamela plans, brilliantly to turn the tables
against Geneva by placing focus of this investigation at Geneva
while Pamela’s vacationing in Paris or London. She hasn’t decided,
yet then smirks, slightly.

Pamela memories, quickly credit card account
number then exits, swiftly work ID station. She’s being tracked by
remote station in IT Alabama Department Division of Cyber Crimes.
Her professional ID relays, immediately through remote then
mainframe computer for valid identification than alerts IT
Director. IT contacts, quickly Geneva of Pamela’s location at this
terminal on Birmingham campus taking 30 minutes.

She creates electronic filing cabinet named
“POV” on desktop and prays, hopefully Preston gets curious. She
accesses, rapidly airplane flight information on Internet. She eye
burns clock, 10: 36. Time flies with fun and games.

She punches, quickly credit card number into
slotted boxes reserving flight & hotel room for 7 days leaving
from Birmingham, Alabama at 11:45 exchanging plane in Atlanta,
Georgia with finally destination Paris, Frances at first class
price of $8,537.22. Credit card accepts, slowly. She presses Ctrl C
then copies face of electronic airline ticket to POV filing cabinet
on desktop, then clicks Ctrl V as electronic print face stores into
filing cabinet.

Pamela repeats, successfully airplane flight
& hotel room for 7 days from Birmingham, Alabama through New
York then landing London, England in first class for $7,893.51.
Credit card accepts, slowly. Pressing “Ctrl C,” then “Ctrl V,” she
copies electronic ticket to desktop “POV” folder. To add to the
fun, she books rental car & four different tours of famous
landmarks in both France & London priced at $6,963.84. Credit
card accepts, slowly & copies, swiftly receipts to “POV.”
Finally, she orders four lovely evening gowns, purses and evening
shoes for $2,129.54. Credit card accepts, slowly then copies,
swiftly paid receipts to “POV” desktops. Pamela smiles, sweetly
then eye burns wall clock, 10:48 am.

She types, immediately on Internet name of
“Geneva Lassater” then pastes “Ctrl V” electronic page to POV icon
folder on desktop. She repeats procedure four times using Geneva’s
name and her full name, Pamela Craft as well as her pen name ipam
she uses for her published eBook novels. She eye burns clock, 10:58
am. Time to go!

11:01 am. Federal Building.

Preston slams open, nosily door into Cyber
Crimes then eye burns Geneva. He sneers, disgustingly. He and her
hates, passionately each other from the beginning of introduction
of Cyber Crimes unit located in Birmingham, two years ago. And he
and her watches and waits, patiently to de-throne the other one in
the finally fugly fight. Today’s that day for Preston. Preston
smirks, victoriously with latest and greatest CIA news tracking,
directly hack job back to Geneva’s personal work ID & PC. He’s
got her, finally. Arthur and Larry follow, closely.

Geneva stands upright with arms over chest in
middle of open space & smiles, sweetly. She motions,
horizontally with hand. “My office, Preston, we have much to
discuss.”

Preston struts, manly toward oversized desk
then pivots, soldierly facing Geneva. He holds, vertically brown
paper. Geneva recognizes delicate item as Federal warrant searching
without permission her private office and personal computers.

Geneva smiles, sweetly. “Truce, Preston. I
got a rouge Retriever….who used my PC to hack into the CIA
website…and who has escaped by feet and claws.” She grins, toothy.
“That means, you…” She steps, quickly into his face & winks,
flirtatiously then talks, softly. “…help me.”

Preston frowns, softly then paces backwardly
from her stinky breathe & poses, threateningly. “Show me your
rouge, then maybe, I might help ya…otherwise I’ll haul your flabby
ass to jail.”

Geneva claps, silly hands like toddler &
points, rudely at Stockton. “Lights, camera & action,
Stockton!” Stockton chuckles, lightly shifting chairs in front of
desk directed at blank wall. Stockton motions, horizontally hands
for sitting position.

Geneva pats, warmingly chair next to her
& smiles, sweetly. Preston struts, cautiously over as everyone
calmly sits for the mysterious picture show. Geneva orders,
commandingly. “Display, please, Stockton. Everyone pay close
attention, first time, we don’t want to repeat our Oscar winning
performance.”

Lights darkens, quickly. Digital pic
brightens, clearly. Geneva smiles, wickedly. Preston gasps,
nosily.

Geneva talks, demandingly. “Stockton, why
don’t you tell Preston our fascinating little story that occurred
this morning.” Preston growls, deeply at Geneva.

Stockton clears, dramatically throat. “May I
formally present Pamela Craft, rough Retriever just in case you’ve
never met.” Preston snorts, lightly & eye burns Geneva not
bothering following the side show. Stockton continues in tenor
trumpet. “At the present time, we don’t know her whereabouts.
However, this morning at approximately 9:40 am, Pamela accessed
here…Cyber Crimes director’s PC, hacking into CIA’s website for
some type of unknown secret data. The best we could figure out she
was researching an agent code named ‘BOA.’ Does that name mean
anything to you guys at FBI?” Stockton halts, post-morbidly.

Larry shakes, sideways blonde skull while
Arthur eye gleams Preston. Preston has not stopped snorting and
sneering at Geneva.

Stockton continues, cheerfully. “Guess not!
So, for the next stage…”

Preston stands, swiftly & demands,
kingly. “I want to talk to your staff, Geneva.”

Geneva stands, slowly & tilts, angularly
blonde skull. “This way! My staff’s eager to help you as well,
Preston.” She leads, forwardly out office door & smiles,
victoriously. Preston grabs, roughly her forearm as Arthur, Larry
and Stockton scoot, gingerly around the love birds for the
meeting.

Preston eye burns Geneva. Her ugly features
naws his insides as her frizzy curly dishwater blonde hair flies
like nats in the air waves while her burning violet trimmed pupils
heats his whiskers with fire. She gots pretty eyeballs but her flat
wide nose looks funny like she boxed, literally for love with sex
partners. Preston chuckles, lightly then he shakes, sideway black
skull. She possesses medium brown skin tone which tans easily. Her
neck’s pure white but left cheekbone, ear and jaw line are colored
light brown like she has some weird skin inflection on her
face.

Preston sneers, dangerously. “I intend to
hear Pamela’s full story, Geneva.”

Geneva smiles, sweetly. “It will match word
for word my sentences, you’ll see, Preston.” She jerks, forcefully
arm from his gripe. “Right now, we…you and I have a rouge which
means we… you and I need to work together to stop before that
roaming retriever causes more trouble…than fears.”

Preston talks, calmly & smiles, sweetly.
“I don’t have fears, Geneva. But, I guess you might
fear…something.”

Geneva spits virtual rusty nails. “Don’t get
your pool floatie inflated. I didn’t fear you, Preston.”

“Then, you should.” Preston twists toward
archway, stalks, swiftly toward an empty chair.

Stockton acts as butler curving spare chairs
around Ilenn’s desk. She’s currently tracking the bouncy ball IP
address sent from Lacy’s stolen cell directly to Pamela’s last
known location in Birmingham, not New Jersey. Stockton chuckles,
lightly. He has mentioned time and time again that Pamela is too
smarty for her own good but Geneva’s obsession with the CIA code
word “BOA” drives the loony woman’s crazy with mystery forgetting
her ‘real’ job at Cyber Crimes.

Arthur sits, quickly & pulls, smoothly
his cell from jacket pocket. He inquires, dutifully. “Do we need
court order, Preston? I can contact Magistrate, 37th Court…”

Preston neck snaps to Arthur & informs,
lawfully. “No, I’m the law, here. If I determine Pamela’s a rough
Retriever, we track her! Find her! She can’t be too far.”

Lacy frowns, ugly & offers, immediately
in alto clarinet. “She stole my cell.”

Stockton adds, fluidly. “Ilenn’s pocketbook
with all her money and credit cards is missing from her desk as
well. We’re assuming the same thief lifted both items.”

“Understood.” Preston comments, singularly
& eye burns Geneva.

“Call off your bedmates, Preston. I’m not the
thief here.” Geneva occupies, heavily Preston’s space & orders,
softly.