If you go rogue,
you become the threat.
— The Finder's Keeper
I had Beanie meet me at a cafe for lunch, so we could go over a few things before our trial run. Something about him wasn't right.
"Hey, Beanie. Good to see you again. You got an actual name, or are we sticking with Beanie?"
"Beanie works."
"How old are you?"
"Old enough."
"No name, no age. What the fuck?"
Beanie sighed and took off the cap. Brown hair flopped down past her shoulders.
"Whoa. You're a chick?"
"That a problem?"
"Hell no. But you're not answering my questions. How old are you?"
"I'm 21. Being tiny and short makes me look like a kid. I hate it."
"Fuck that. It's your power. It's why you'll always be underestimated. That gives you an advantage."
"Thanks."
"What's the deal with... actually, hang on. Here comes the waitress. Figure out what you're gonna have, ok? I'm getting a BLT."
I knew it was a mistake, but I ordered a BLT because I knew it'd be crap. I did it to remember how good Finn's was. It was about respecting the man's work. Beanie ordered a big sloppy burger.
"OK, so, what was the deal with Owen and Yaz?"
"How do you mean?"
"You know each other?"
"Yeah. We're all lifters. Sometimes we work together."
"You warned me about Vic, but you seemed ok with Owen and Yaz."
"They're cool. Owen is straight edge. No personality, but he's a pro. Yaz is a pro too. He acts cocky, but it's just for show. He's rock solid. Vic's not like them. He's sloppy and he has an attitude. I mean, everybody does, but if you're gonna be a dick, you better be on top of your game."
"And Vic..."
"...isn't."
"Gotcha. Since you mentioned being on top of your game, let's talk about what you need to know, for today's job. For every job, actually. Here's your tool of the trade. We're doing it all old school."
I handed her an old beat up Polaroid camera. It was dirty and had duct tape along the side, covering up a crack through the plastic, but that just meant it had been through some shit. It had history. We've all got history.
"Today is a test. It's not about skill, it's about style. I need to make sure you understand how to do the job right."
"Leave no trace," she said, pulling a pair of silk gloves out of her pocket. "I get it."
"Good. The mark has a townhouse. Suburban bullshit. Easy entry, front and back."
"OK."
"On every job, you'll always have two guys with you. One keeps watch from the street. He'll give you a heads up if the mark comes home, so there's no risk there. The other guy goes in with you."
"To help?"
"To keep you honest."
There's no nice way to say I'm sending her in with protection, to protect me from her.
"Listen, Beanie, this is important. The guys you'll be working with... they're strictly muscle. Don't talk to them. If you need to say anything, keep it tight. They're dangerous. But they work for me, which means they work for you. They won't hesitate to end any threat to you, if something goes wrong. But if you go rogue, you become the threat. Got it? There's no honor among thieves in their world."
"Got it..."
The fact that she didn't flinch either meant she didn't get it, or she was one tough bitch.
"...but you still haven't told me what we're looking for, Hellen. Are we doing a blackmail thing?"
Ugh. I hate this part. Explaining Bitcoin to somebody can be like explaining quantum mechanics, and I don't know shit about that.
I took a breath, looked her in the eye, and dove in.
"Actually, my name's Shayna. Call m Shay. And tell me what you know about Bitcoin."
"Oh, shit. Is that the gig? We're searching for seed words? Why didn't you say so."
"OK. Wow. You get it. This is gonna be easy then."
"Yeah. I've never stolen Bitcoin, but I know enough to know what you're looking for."
"Then you know it'll be 12 or 24 words, written on a piece of paper, or maybe stamped in a steel plate."
"Or any other wacky thing dudes will do to hide it."
"Where'd you learn about Bitcoin?"
"I had an ex who was into it."
"You didn't rob him when you broke up?"
"He'd already gambled it away. Dudes are idiots."
She was right about that.
"OK, then. Here's how this works. For every job, you'll pick up keys and an envelope. Give the keys to the muscle. One of them will go in alone, to check for security systems or whatever. When he gives the all clear, you'll go in to search for the mark's Bitcoin seed words. Find 'em, take a picture, and drop it in the envelope. Make sure you left no signs you were there. On your way out, lock the home and drop the keys in the envelope too. Seal it shut and drop it off in my mailbox. Text me, so I know it's there. We text in code. I'll teach you."
"Why not give the keys back to you? Where will you be?"
"Today, I'm going with you for a trial run. But I've got other responsibilities. I'll usually be doing recon to find more marks."
"It's not hard to find tech-bros."
"I've been doing this for a while. It's not about finding them. It's about getting the keys to their homes without the mark knowing his keys were got or that we even exist. That's the system. Neither one of us meets the mark. He won't know I got his keys. He won't know you entered his home. When he gets got, he'll think he got hacked, online."
"Oh. That's good."
"That's how it's done."