Free The Tangled Webb by D. P. Schroeder Page A

caller.
    “Go.”
    “It’s an account at Baribus Private Bank Paris. Your buddy Specter controls it. During the past six weeks, a man named Max Baer has made multiple withdrawals from the account. The amounts range from fifty thousand to a hundred and fifty thousand Euros.”
    “So?”
    “James! The withdrawals were tendered in cash. You know, the man walks into the bank and comes out carrying a sackful of currency.”
    “Better.”
    “The bank’s archive of surveillance videos can be tapped into, but not remotely. Somebody has to actually enter the building.”
    As James spoke, the caller heard a quick inhale. “Much better, terrific. Four hours from now the bank opens for business. We have to get those tapes.”
    “Hey, wait a minute. We’re geeks, not operatives.”
    “We need those videos,” James said flatly.
    He explained to the geek how one of his colleagues in Paris would enter the bank under the guise of a maintenance technician employed by the bank’s security company. James contacted a friend in Paris who agreed to help with logistical support and assure the extraction went smoothly.
    A few minutes later he got a callback from the geek, hoping the cash incentive had been sufficient.
    “He’ll do it.”

CHAPTER 18
    A ndre was an extremely nervous computer geek when he arrived near the bank in Paris. Tall, wiry and in his late-twenties, his boyish appearance hid an intensity just below the surface. He rode in the passenger seat beside Nicolas, the man James had sent, and they pulled to the curb by the Baribus Private Bank, beyond the range of the security cameras.
    Nicolas glanced at his watch: 9:45 A.M.
    The morning was beautiful, the sun beating down along ancient cobblestones streets and buildings of grand architecture.
    Nicolas turned to Andre. “Well, are you ready?”
    They had planned extensively during the night, but Andre felt anxious. “Give me a minute to compose myself.”
    “Sure, take all the time you need,” Nicolas said, enjoying the city’s easy beat and watching pedestrians and tourists as they walked by along the sidewalk.
    Moments later, Andre exhaled heavily. “Okay, let’s do this.”
    Nicolas gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Good luck.”
    He crossed the street and walked into the Baribus Private Bank, affecting a casual air as he stepped over to a security guard who sat behind an information kiosk. He presented his credentials to the guard who made a phone call to the security company. The call was rerouted and answered by a geek—an accomplice of Andre. Satisfied the company had dispatched a maintenance technician to the bank, the guard motioned toward the elevators. Andre took slow, deep breaths and rode the lift down two floors to a secured area where he was met by another guard, this one giving him clearance to enter a room that contained the bank’s surveillance equipment. A Frenchman sat over by a wall of monitors, and he turned and greeted Andre who gave a polite response.
    Andre went to the other side of the room and stood before a bank of database servers. A moment or two later, the Frenchman who was looking at the monitors turned and faced him.
    “Have you seen Gustave lately?”
    Beads of sweat pooled on Andre’s forehead. He suddenly felt grateful; last night, Nicholas had suggested that Andre memorize the security company’s employee records, past and present.
    Andre didn’t look over, and kept his eyes on his laptop.
    “Not since he died last year.”
    The Frenchman nodded, swiveling his chair around and back to the monitors. The threat deflected, Andre began copying the files to his hard drive.
    Ten minutes later, he came out of the building and jumped in the car beside Nicolas.
    “How’d it go?”
    Andre was visibly shaken, saying, “Drive! Please, just drive.”
    Nicolas pulled from the curb and drove away. When Andre’s nerves calmed down, he booted his laptop, sending an email with video footage to Kate. She opened the files, importing