The Big Pull
To the passer-by, the man leaning against the First Bank of Grey-water was an run of the mill pedestrian. He was leaning against the wall, swiping around on his phone. That wasn't a suspicious activity, was it? Loitering near a bank, perhaps waiting on a friend to finish depositing a check. Well, he was waiting, but it wasn't for a friend.
Wyzerd, as he had christened himself in the depths of the Internet, was a hacker. And while he was leaning on a wall of the First Bank of Grey-Water, it wasn't some high-tech bank robbery. The shop beside the bank had free wifi. Most free wifi spots weren't encrypted. Data was sent from the phone to the modem and finally to the internet.
Using a program he had written, he could search through the binary code that was being sent to the modem. What he was looking for? Social security numbers, credit card PINs, Bank account info, all the stuff the news preached. He'd then copy it, then send it to the modem. He was the illegal middle-man.
After Wyzerd gathered around 4 different social security numbers, he pushed off the bank and began walking down the road. Again, the passerby saw naught but a blonde haired man walking down the street in a bright red hoodie. His face was short, and his nose was crooked, as if it had been broken.
Walking down the street, Wyzerd noticed a police cruiser parked across the road. Sitting on it, an officer was looking around, arms crossed in an angry fashion. Upon sighting Wyzerd, the officer gave him a wary look, stood up, and stretched. Wyzerd, a little bit peeved at the officer's look, turned the corner and broke into a jog.
Just as he turned the corner, he heard the whine of police sirens a couple blocks away and sped up, jogging just a bit faster now. If the sirens were for him, he was screwed. When he reached the halfway point of the street he was on, a cruiser pulled down the lane.
It was official. He was screwed.
Wyzerd turned into an alley, suddenly aware of the eyes of several people on him. anonymity was his shield, and he'd lost it. Darting down the alley, he shoved a bum down and jumped over an overturned trash can. He heard the yelling of the police officer chasing him. Wyzerd gambled a quick look behind him, and realized it was an FBI agent, not a police officer.
See, Wyzerd was an old hand at this. He'd wracked up almost 200,000 dollars doing his trade. So, in a way, he wasn't surprised it was a FBI officer chasing him. In fact, he welcomed it. They'd finally decided to catch him.
Wyzerd darted down the last 10 feet of the alley and climbed over the fence seperating this alley from another. The FBI agent fired two shots, both missed. Wyzerd climbed up onto a dumpster and jumped up towards the fire escape. The FBI agent fired again, this time just barely missing Wyzerd's left shoulder. He could hear the agent cursing. He pulled himself up and began to ascend, taking the steps two at a time. More bullets grazed by him, as two more FBI agents added their fire. They were waiting for me at the end of the alley? I'm screwed, Wyzerd thought, reaching the end of the fire escape. He jumped up and caught the lip of the building. Pulling himself up, he looked around.
Nothing. No building within jumping distance, no skylights, nothing. not even a pipe he could bludgeon someone with. He was well and truly screwed. In moments, a helicopter would fly over him, with mega-phoned shouts of "Get down on the ground!" He never intended to get caught. Why did fate throw him under this bus? He could hear
the helicopter rotors beating in the air. It was over.
He was almost resigned to his fate when a tiny voice whispered into his ear. " You know a way to escape." Wyzard smiled. They can't catch me there, he thought, and stretched. With a running start, he leapt off the building into the alley below,aiming for the concrete.
"Local storeowner Chris Desmond killed himself today after getting chased by police. He stole upwards of 200,000 dollars from residents in the area. The police have not released a statement. The incident occured near the First Bank of Grey-water," The TV reported. The Lady watching it gasped. "Brian! come see this!" She called, pausing the program and rewinding it to play it for her husband. He watched, wide eyed. "That's the man who installed our internet!" he said, running a nervous hand through his hair. "He seemed like an okay guy, who would've thought he was a criminal!"
Last edited by Lockette; 08-11-2017 at 10:04 AM..
Reason: Needed to finish said story/indention problems, Grammar and capitalization issues.