been tossed around. But he was genuinely afraid, too.
But the money. The damn money.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t want to put you in a bad place.”
DO NOT WORRY ABOUT ME. YOU ALREADY DO SO MUCH FOR SO MANY PEOPLE. I DO NOT WANT YOU TO RISK ALL OF THAT. I WILL BE FINE. THERE ARE ALWAYS OTHER OPTIONS.
“But no option as good as me. Let me do this one last time. I don’t want to leave you hanging.”
NO. I DO NOT THINK IT IS A GOOD IDEA. TRUST YOUR INSTINCTS.
“Please? I’m just having a bad day, that’s all. Really, I want to do it.”
BUT YOU SAID THERE IS EXTRA RISK INVOLVED, RIGHT?
“No more than usual.”
I DO NOT BELIEVE YOU. HOW ABOUT THIS: I CAN PAY AN EXTRA 25K FOR THIS JOB. WOULD THAT HELP ALLEVIATE THE RISK?
Hell, yeah. Fung couldn’t believe it. “I wouldn’t say no. That’s very generous of you.”
BUT ONLY IF YOU ARE SURE. DO NOT LET THE MONEY PERSUADE YOU.
“I’m not. I’m sure it won’t be a problem.”
THANK YOU. YOU ARE LITERALLY SAVING MY LIFE.
“Glad to do it. Give me the details.”
CHIBI sent Fung the particulars.
Very doable, Fung decided. But precautions were in order. He was being watched. He could feel it. But he needed the money, and he needed this. Something secret, something important. The big “fuck you” to everyone around him. To everyone who doubted him.
And he’d do anything to keep it.
Fung licked his lips. Twenty-five thousand extra would come in handy. He had a head for numbers, sure, but not money—or, at least, spending it. He was out of control and he knew it. The more he made, the more he spent. All the bills got paid, but only at the last minute.
CHIBI knew this. It was why he had reached out to Fung. Fung was frightened at first. To have been watched, studied, probed. Kind of embarrassing, actually. He was a cybersecurity expert—a professional hacker!—and he’d been hacked. That was a neat trick. Fung had been certain his personal financial information was secure, at least on his end. But CHIBI must have hacked the losers at his bank and mortgage company and who knows who else.
His first instinct was to shut everything down. Go dark. Contact his boss, tell her what happened, humiliating as that would be. Or maybe even call his friend at the FBI’s Cyber Division. Another humiliation, for sure, but maybe he would know a way to get out from under this asshole without losing his job. Either of those would have been the smart play.
But something clicked inside him. CHIBI could have robbed him blind or blackmailed him into service. But he did neither. He just wanted to talk.
And they did.
After the initial shock and embarrassment, Fung warmed to the idea of being known by this mysterious stranger. A stranger with a serious skill set. A master hacker who had reached out to him for help. No threats. Just cash.
And the thrill.
Thrilling, because CHIBI was most likely a Chinese agent. Possibly even with Unit 61398. Had to be. Those guys were the best.
Fung was born in Alameda, California—an anchor baby, by design. His mother had flown over from Guangzhou when she was seven months pregnant. She took up residence with four other pregnant Chinese nationals at an illegal “maternity hotel” in a suburban residence owned by a Chinese expat maternity nurse charging exorbitant fees to her desperate countrymen and not reporting that income to federal authorities. The fourteenth amendment to the American Constitution, not anticipating global jet travel, apparently determined that anyone physically born in the United States was automatically an American citizen, and tens of thousands of Chinese mothers had taken advantage of this quirky law over the last twenty years, including Fung’s, who lied about her pregnancy status and the duration of her visit. Both lies rendered her entry status illegal. Two months after he was born, she returned to the mainland. Within two years, she and her husband were allowed to immigrate to the United States with visas in hand, owing in part to Lawrence Fung’s illegally contrived citizenship and sponsored by distant family members already living in California.
The Fungs did well for themselves in their new country, at least initially. His mother was a civil engineer and his father an economist, and within a decade they had managed to climb the first few rungs of the American dream ladder. Lawrence was raised in a Mandarin-speaking home, and he quickly picked up Cantonese from his