Enemy Invasion (4 page)

Six months before, Marlon Good had set the gaming community alive by sending out an invitation to coders all over the world to send in their game ideas to their head office in Hong Kong, stating
he “wanted to encourage the next generation of game designers”. What Good hadn’t revealed was that he intended to take the best of those ideas and claim them for himself. Jonesey
had been one of the people who submitted, sending in the code to a daft little flash game he’d written for the net:
Ridge Run Rabbit
(an endless platform jumper with a theme tune that
stuck in your head).

Three months after Jonesey sent in his plans, an almost identical copy, renamed
Widge Wun Wabbit,
went on sale as an iPhone app under the Goodware banner. It was an immediate hit, selling
almost 100,000 copies in two months. The first Jonesey heard of it was when someone at the GC congratulated him on becoming an app millionaire. He tried to contact Goodware but received no
reply.

Then he contacted a lawyer.

The next day, his mother’s apartment was burgled and his computer equipment stolen – along with all the evidence he had originally created the game. His lawyer dropped the case after
a similar break-in at his office. After his family began to receive threatening phone calls, Jonesey dropped the case too.

Until Hack told him about his power.

Jonesey was convinced there had to be evidence of his original work kept somewhere in the Goodware Inc. offices. The only problem was that Goodware utilized some of the most advanced security
technology in the world. Their office on Hong Kong Island was practically a fortress, but that didn’t deter Jonesey.

He intended to get the evidence that Marlon Good stole his game.

And he’d persuaded Hack to help him.

3

There were three ways to cross the bay that separated Hong Kong’s two major islands: by road through the tunnels, by the MTR train system, and by ferry. The last option
was by far the slowest, noisiest and most crowded. It was also Hack’s favourite, because of the spectacular views it gave of the ’scraper-lined waterfront of Hong Kong Island.

Hack stood by the ferry’s observation rail and looked across Kowloon Bay. It was just past 8 p.m. and the nightly light show was in full swing. On either side of the bay, multi-coloured
lasers stretched from the tops of the skyscrapers into the night. Cruisers crammed with tourists circled as people snapped away with cameras. The muffled sounds of cheesy music and the recorded
History of Hong Kong
commentary floated across the water from speakers.

He wasn’t riding one of the tourist boats, however, and all too soon the Star Ferry Pier loomed ahead. The boat engine screamed as it was put into reverse. Passengers crowded for the
exits, but Hack remained at the rail, looking up at his destination for that evening: the towering skyscraper called Two IFC. The tower exuded brilliant, white light – steel and glass
gleaming brighter than its neighbours’. Two IFC was eighty-eight storeys tall, double the height of its twin tower, One IFC, just across the street. Whenever Hack looked at the buildings, he
thought of the scene in
The Dark Knight
where Batman jumps off the top of Two IFC, glides over the city and smashes his way into an office in One IFC. A very cool scene – but probably
suicide for anyone other than Bruce Wayne, Hack reflected.

The buffers around the side of the ferry squealed as they touched the pier. Seconds later the gangway descended and people shuffled towards the mall in search of shopping, cinema and food. Hack
joined the back of the herd and followed them through the ferry terminal and into the shiny environment of the mall. Here everything was pristine – even the rubber plants in their pots looked
as if they’d just been polished. Hack passed shops filled with designer goods and overpriced electronics towards one of the central hubs – a circular area with escalators going up and
down. Through the glass atrium ceiling, he caught a glimpse of Two IFC tower extending above like a needle. The reality of the situation began to hit home. After months of planning and discussion
with Jonesey, they were actually going to do it.

They were going to break into the Goodware offices on Level 77.

Hack checked his watch – almost 8.30 – right on time for his meeting. On Saturday night the mall hummed with thousands of people. Every restaurant had a queue stretching out the
door. Groups of students hung around the entrance to the cinema. He saw a couple of school friends and waved to them, but didn’t have time to stop, carrying on to the meeting place.

Honeymoon Dessert was a chain of ice-cream restaurants that had places all over the city. Due to Jonesey’s sweet tooth, whenever they arranged a meeting outside the GC, it was usually at
one of them. The place was packed and Hack had to look around for a moment before he spotted his friend, seated at a stall at the very back. The rest of the clientele were either dating couples or
groups of teenage girls. Hack pushed his way through, feeling a little self-conscious, and took a seat opposite.

“What is that?” Hack asked, looking at the white and black liquid in the yellow bowl.

“Lychee and black bean soup,” Jonesey replied, spooning another helping into his mouth.

Hack shook his head as he noticed an untouched bowl of the same dessert on the table. “I thought I said not to get me anything.”

Jonesey looked sheepish. “Uh, it’s not for you. Someone else is joining us.”

Hack took a second to process the information, before leaning in towards his friend. “Someone else is coming tonight?”

“Take it easy!” Jonesey said, waving a hand for him to lower his voice. “How do you think I got my hands on all those security schematics? I needed someone with connections. We
can trust this guy. He’s got more reason to want to keep this secret than we have.”

“What is he? Some kind of criminal?”

“No!” Jonesey insisted. “Just a guy with an interest in Goodware.”

“He works for a rival software developer? Are we talking about industrial espionage—”

Jonesey coughed. “Here he is.”

Hack looked round as a well-built guy in his twenties approached the table. He wore an immaculate grey suit, a white shirt open at the neck and looked like Chow Yun-Fat in
The Killer
. At
first glance he might have been mistaken for a businessman on his night off, but then Hack spotted the edge of a tattoo at his neck, unmistakably the curving tail of a dragon. It was a fair bet
that if the man removed his shirt, you’d see an upper body covered in such artwork. Hack had never met a member of the Triad, the network of criminal gangs that had controlled Hong
Kong’s underworld for centuries, but this guy fitted his mental image to a T. He took a seat beside Jonesey.

“Hack, meet Hui,” Jonesey said by way of introduction, switching to Cantonese for once.

The man turned his dark eyes on him. Hack tried to hold his intense gaze, but had to look away. “Nice to meet you,” Hui said, also using Chinese, his voice deep and measured.
“Jonesey has told me so much about you.”

“Yeah,” Hack replied, “perhaps a little too much.”

Hui laughed softly. “There’s no need for concern. You’ll find I’m very discreet. In fact, discretion is my business.” He glanced at his watch – a Rolex that
was probably genuine. “So, the shift change to the night-time security team in the corporate levels of the tower is at 9.00. We should make a move.”

Hack gritted his teeth in annoyance. Clearly Jonesey had told the man everything about their plan. “Do you mind if we have a quick word in private?”

Hui’s mouth widened into a smile, but his eyes didn’t join in. “Why should I mind?”

“Just let me finish this,” Jonesey said as he continued to spoon the soup into his mouth. Hack kicked his shin. “Or maybe I’ll finish it later.”

As the two boys rose, Hui leaned back and his suit jacket fell open, allowing the briefest glimpse of an automatic hanging in a holster under his left arm. Hack’s blood ran cold as he and
Jonesey crossed to the restaurant entrance.

“What were you thinking?” Hack whispered. “That guy’s Triad!”

“Oh, come on! Just because he’s got a tailored suit, doesn’t make him a gangster.”

“He’s carrying a gun! When we left the table he opened his jacket so I could see it.” Hack grabbed Jonesey’s arm and shook him. “Do you understand? He
wanted
me to see it.”

Jonesey looked away at the crowds of families, couples and groups of friends traipsing through the mall. The air was full of laughter and shouting and friendly arguments. When he turned back,
his face was even paler than normal and his eyes were watery.

“I’m sorry, Hack,” he said. “I went to him to buy the IFC security plans, but he wouldn’t leave it at that. Pressed me for information. When he heard about
Goodware, he wanted in. Wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“What does he want?”

“The beta version of
Portal War 2
from the Goodware server. Creating a pirate copy months before release would be worth millions to them.”

Hack looked at him incredulously. “No! You think? How could you have been so stupid?” He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “Now at least I know who’s been
following me all week.”

Jonesey shook his head. “If the Triad were following, you wouldn’t have seen them. Look, let’s just get this over with. All we care about is getting proof of my original game
design, right? Let the Triad have their pirate copy – in a few weeks, the real thing will be in the shops for the punters dumb enough to pay full price. Goodware won’t lose anything.
It’s a victimless crime!”

“And you think it’s going to stop here? Hui knows about my power now. What about when he wants to bypass another security system or break into another building? Who do you think
he’ll come looking for?”

“All he knows is your name, I swear.”

That assurance didn’t make Hack feel much better – he was certain that if the Triad wanted to find someone, they had ways of doing it. He glanced back at their table. Hui sat
impassively, hands clasped together before him like a terracotta soldier waiting to be brought to life.

“Okay,” he said finally. “We walk away right now. Lose him in the crowd. What’s he going to do, start shooting at us in the middle of the mall? He can’t make us go
through with the break-in.”

His friend looked at his feet. “It’s not that simple. I made promises to them. Borrowed some money, just for the 3D LCD and some other components—”

“Jonesey!”

“I know! I was stupid! He wanted me to take an advance. Up capitalize my business or something.”

“He wanted you in his debt.”

“They’re not going to let me walk away.”

The two friends looked at one another for a moment. Jonesey gave a lopsided grin. “It’s okay. You can leave. I should have told you what was going on.”

“Yes, you should.”

“I’ll muddle through somehow.”

“And how are you going to get past the Goodware security systems without me?”

Jonesey looked at his feet again. Hui approached them from the restaurant.

“We should get on with the job,” he said.

Jonesey opened his mouth to say something, but Hack cut him dead. “Yeah, let’s get this over with. In and out fast, that’s the plan, right?”

His friend looked like he could have hugged him. Hui gave a mocking laugh.

“
In and out fast,
” he repeated. “You two sound like real professionals. You’re not…
bad men,
are you?”

Hack ignored him and started in the direction of the express lift to Level 77, closely followed by the other two.

“Your friend should lighten up,” Hui told Jonesey as they wove through the crowd. “He’s too serious for his own good.”

4

Two IFC tower was accessible by public lifts and several keycard-controlled express lifts to the upper financial trading floors. A dedicated lift for Levels 75, 76 and 77
wasn’t marked on any of the official maps of the building. Its entrance was located in an anonymous, dimly lit corner of the basement level. Goodware occupied the floors serviced by this lift
– the three most secure in the entire building.

At 9 p.m. every evening, the general security detail for the tower changed over to the night shift, making it the perfect time for any type of incursion. During the changeover, the eyes of the
security guards studying the CCTV cameras positioned around the tower were most likely to be distracted.

“Stop here,” Hack said, as they stepped off the escalator from the mall levels and walked into the corridor containing the access lift. He pointed to a CCTV camera in the ceiling
opposite the doors. Jonesey and Hui waited as he moved forward, keeping close to the wall and out of the line of vision of the camera. He stopped level with the lift doors and placed his hand flat
against the wall. If the architectural plans Jonesey had provided were correct, his palm was over a cavity containing electrical wires for the light fittings, sockets and the camera itself.

Closing his eyes and channelling his power, Hack was able to visualize the wires as he made contact with them. Quickly isolating the coaxial cable that delivered the camera feed back to the
security control room on Level 5 of the tower, Hack sent a surge of energy along the wire. He looked up. The green operation light on the side of the camera had gone out. The malfunction would
bring one of the guards to investigate eventually, but not before they’d conducted their business. Hack ran over to the lift and beckoned for the others to join him.

The lift doors were plain grey metal with a numeric keypad in place of a call button. Access for the lift was controlled by a ten-digit keycode that changed every seven days (and sometimes at
shorter intervals). Hack had no idea what the code was that week, but he didn’t need to know. He placed his hand over the pad. Blue electricity flashed around his fingers as he accessed the
encrypted code within the device. The doors opened.

“Nice work,” Jonesey said, slapping Hack on the shoulder.

“We’re not there yet,” he replied as they stepped into the lift. Hui leaned against the back of the car as the doors closed. There were only three buttons to choose from. Hack
pressed for Level 77 – the software development lab of Goodware Inc. – and the lift zipped up the shaft towards one of the most protected locations in the city.