Chapter 193: Message From Makima
"And then," she said.
"And then when we move you’ll be part of understanding how we move," said Sean. "You’ve been inside it. You know things about how it functions that Max can’t find from the outside and I can’t see from where I’m standing." He held her gaze. "Your knowledge matters for this."
Mia looked at him.
"You’re treating me like someone with something useful to contribute," she said. The specific observation of someone not used to being treated that way in the current context of their life.
"You have a list with twelve names and debt amounts and specific notes about each person’s situation that you kept for two months on the possibility that you’d find someone to hand it to," said Sean. "That’s not the behavior of someone without something useful to contribute."
She looked at the table briefly.
"Okay," she said. Quieter than the previous okays.
Sean stood.
"The hotel is paid for this week," he said. "The front desk has instructions. If you need anything you call me directly." He set his card on the table. "This number. Anytime."
She picked up the card and looked at it.
"Sean Miller," she read. "That’s all it says."
"That’s all it needs to say," said Sean.
She held the card for a moment. Then she put it in the pocket of the jacket James had sent.
"Sean," she said, as he picked up his jacket.
"Yeah."
"The person above Cole," she said. "The one your colleague is still tracing." She held his gaze. "When you find them."
"Yeah," said Sean.
"Don’t let them walk away," she said. "Whatever you’ve done before this, whatever agreements you’ve reached with whoever came before. This is different." She held his gaze with the specific directness of someone who had been inside what she was describing and was not speaking abstractly. "These people didn’t take a building or someone’s money. They took people. Actual people. Soo-Jin and eleven others on that list and however many more across three other cities." She paused. "That doesn’t end with a signed piece of paper and everyone going home."
Sean held her gaze for a long moment.
"I know," he said. "It’s a different approach entirely."
She nodded once.
He walked out of the café into the Monday morning city.
James was at the curb.
Sean got in and looked out the window as the car pulled into traffic and thought about a board of silent directors and a hospital on the east side and a seventeen year old who needed to finish studying for Wednesday.
His phone buzzed.
Makima.
How did it go this morning.
Building the picture, he typed back. The girl is safe. Colleague is working.
Come down tonight if you want, she replied. No agenda. Just dinner.
I’ll be there, said Sean.
He put his phone in his pocket and looked out at the city.
Three days.
Max had three days to build the full picture.
In the meantime Soo-Jin had a test on Wednesday and Sean had a payment pathway to find and a restaurant reservation on Tuesday evening for a girl with a fourteen item list who deserved a window table and a celebration dinner that had nothing to do with any of this.
One thing at a time.
He was already thinking about the next thing.
—------------------------
The Next Day
Monday had the particular quality of a day that asked a lot of different things from different directions simultaneously.
Sean spent the first part of it on the phone.
Max had worked through Sunday night, which Sean hadn’t asked him to do and which was entirely consistent with how Max operated when something was in front of him that required solving. By eleven Monday morning he had found the payment pathway for Soo-Jin’s debt.
"Lumière’s internal debt tracking runs through a private accounting system," said Max. "Not sophisticated. They didn’t expect anyone to be looking at it from the inside." A pause. "I can access the payment portal. It accepts external transfers under a specific reference code system. If money arrives with the correct reference code it gets logged as a legitimate settlement and the account is marked paid."
"Can you generate a valid reference code for Soo-Jin’s account," said Sean.
"Already have," said Max. "The code is account-specific. Any transfer using it will register as her debt being cleared by an outside party. Happens sometimes apparently, family members paying off balances. The system treats it as routine."
"Eleven thousand," said Sean.
"Eleven thousand two hundred and forty," said Max. "With their administrative processing fee which they charge even on settlements. Of course."
Sean looked at the number.
"Send me the transfer details," said Sean.
Max sent them through. Sean made the transfer from his phone while still on the call.
[11,240 dollars spent]
[Balance: $24,383,389]
[22,480 dollars received]
[New Balance: $24,405,869]
The 2x baseline firing clean. He watched the confirmation appear and sent it to Max.
"Confirmation received," said Max, a moment later. "I’m watching the system. The account is." A brief pause. "Marked paid. Effective immediately."
"She doesn’t know yet," said Sean. "I need her to know without it going through a channel the operation monitors."
"Her phone is monitored," said Max. "But she has a school email that she uses for academic purposes. It’s on a server the operation doesn’t have access to because they didn’t think it mattered." Another pause. "I can send her a message from an anonymous address. Short. Just enough to tell her the debt is cleared and that help is coming and to keep going exactly as before for now."
"Draft it," said Sean. "I want to read it before it goes."
Max sent a draft in four minutes.
Your account has been cleared. You don’t owe them anything anymore. Keep going as normal. Don’t tell anyone. Help is coming. You are not alone.
Sean read it twice.
"Send it," he said.
"Sent," said Max.
"Max," he said.
"Yeah."