I headed off to Beşiktaş in the first taxi that passed, to the Akdoğan Sokak address of Kemal Barutçu, otherwise known as Cihad2000. The apartment building was every bit as shabby and every bit as redolent of cooking as I’d remembered. I couldn’t help wondering what he spent his money on. He had to be pulling in a tidy sum. But he was still stuck in this run-down building with his mother and overworked, largely absent father. And that meant he was constantly under their supervision and control.
His mother answered the door, the same worn expression on her face.
“Welcome, my son,” she said. “Kemal’s expecting you. He’s a bit uptight today. Come on in…”
Showing due respect, I leaned over and kissed her hand. It reeked of onions.
“Go on in. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll make you two some sahlep. I’ve made a fresh batch of poğaca, too. Once they cool you can have some with your tea.”
If Cihad2000 let his mother have her way, he’d be the size of an elephant. It wasn’t like he got any exercise. Actually, as far as I knew he never left his chair in front of the computer.
“I’ve got a wonderful surprise for you,” I cooed as I walked into his room, all ready to tell him about leather-clad Pamir.
“We’re in trouble,” he said.
It seemed we weren’t reading from the same page.
“And I mean big trouble,” he continued gravely. “I’ve been researching since last night. The place we hacked was Türk Telekom. The phone records. If we get caught, we’re really done for. If the police find out-and they’re bound to sooner or later-we’ll have everyone from the National Security Agency to the State Security Council on our backs. We’re in deep shit!”
His mother was right; he was tense. He looked like he hadn’t slept a wink all night. And what he said was truly startling and extremely serious.
“Calm down,” I said automatically. “Start from the beginning, nice and slow…”
Far from calming down, he looked like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Mouth twisted, lips quivering, face beet red, he began:
“Like I said, we hacked Telekom last night. The records we sifted through belong to the national telecommunications company. Don’t you get it? Türk Telekom. It’s a crime against the state. I don’t know what the punishment is, but it’s a lot more than a slap on the wrist, that much I can tell you. If we get caught, we’re done for. They’ll finish us off. We’ve been used. I swear to Allah, if I get away with it this time I’ll give up hacking completely. All those figures and numbers were nothing other than telephone numbers and records. When I realized, I almost peed my pants. It’s terrifying. We’re in trouble. They’ll all be after us. And we’re bound to get caught. Red-handed. I’ll rot to death in prison in my wheelchair. You can imagine how they’ll treat me there. I can’t face that. I’m afraid. May Allah save us.”
I couldn’t allow him to go on like this. He had to come to his senses. The sahlep would take some time to make; his mother wasn’t likely to appear at the door anytime soon. I gave him a hard smack across the face.
“Get over it; calm down!”
The slap seemed to work. He was calmer, if only a bit… But he kept jabbering in the same hysterical tone.
“Did you know about it?”
“How was I supposed to know?” I said. “We landed the job. That’s all Ali told me. There was a go-between. The money was good, so he didn’t ask questions. Anyway, since when does anyone ask a lot of questions about this kind of work?”
“Exactly. We asked no questions and now we’ve landed in the shit. Up to our necks, no less. They paid me in advance, every last cent. What idiots, I thought to myself, as I counted it. Good God, forgive me my trespasses. I repent. Do you think He hears me?”
I tried, and failed, to suppress a chuckle. Here we were in the middle of a crisis, and I still couldn’t help laughing at the religious fervor of poor Kemal.
“Do you really think it’s so easy to get hold of Telekom’s records? To access the main cache?” I asked, my mirth cut short by a chilling awareness that, as Kemal put it, we were in deep shit. “Haven’t they got all kinds of firewalls and shields in place?”
“It’s child’s play,” he said. “The system’s extremely vulnerable. Anyone determined to access can.”
“So why didn’t they do it themselves?”
“What they actually had us do-had me do-was to make a tiny fraction of the records accessible, amid all that data. Then you accessed what I’d opened up and did what you wanted.”
“I basically destroyed the records they wanted deleted…” I said.
“It’s all over! I jump every time the doorbell rings. I expect the police to come and take me away any second.”
“Don’t be silly,” I said. “We’re experts. We both took every precaution to cover our tails. At least, I did. I didn’t leave any tracks. And you’re a pro, too… I know you are.”
“That may be, but I was working at home. If they pull out all the stops, they could still trace me.”
“What are you getting so worked up about?” I continued. “We’ll destroy any traces you may have left behind. They’ll never find you.”
“I’ve already done that.”
“So what’s the problem?” I asked. “Why panic? You’ve taken care of things.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m still scared. What if something happens to me and…”
He never finished his sentence. The door opened and in came our cups of sahlep, borne by his mother on a garish plastic tray. She must have heard the last bit of our conversation, and she looked worried.
“What happened, son?” she asked. “Why are you so scared?”
“Don’t interfere, mother!”
“But son…”
“Keep out of it! You wouldn’t understand.”
His mother looked at me for a sign of sympathy. Embarrassed at having been a witness to the sight of a mother scolded by her son, I examined the ceiling, avoiding her eyes and smiling sheepishly.
“Look, your friend’s here. I’m sure he can help. You’ll sort things out…”
“That’s enough, mother! Just go and mind your own business!”
With a resigned glance at me, she left the room.
“Shut the door and stop listening in!”
Kemal was speaking from experience. Holding a silencing finger to his lips, he put a CD into the player.
“She often eavesdrops on me out of sheer boredom. Now that she’s actually curious about something her ears will be pricked up like Lassie’s.”
The last thing I wanted was to get mixed up in a family feud.
“Just drop it,” I suggested.
“No,” he said. “It could be dangerous for her, too, if she knows what’s going on. I need to protect her. As a son, that’s the least I can do. And if she was ever called on to testify, she’d sing like a nightingale. Then we’d all be in trouble.”
“Stop exaggerating,” I said. “Don’t be such a wimp! What kind of a man are you, anyway?”
Even I was astonished by my words. Kemal was still for a moment, then shot back with:
“A lot of good my manhood will do me in prison!”
“Look,” I said, raising my voice before remembering the mother and lowering it again, “we did a clean job. That’s a given. It’s impossible for anyone to trace us. Anyway, who could they get to do it? It’s not like they have any experts on the payroll.”
“You’re right about that, but there’s no point in getting too complacent. A new whiz hits the scene every day. Some of them are still kids. It’s unbelievable… Sharp as tacks. I caught one of them trying to penetrate my system. Can you imagine?”
That was true. There was a whole new generation of hackers waiting in the wings. I had confidence in my abilities. And in Kemal’s. But we could well meet our match one day. You’d think those little bastards would be happy to play street football and chase after girls; but no, they sit in front of their computers all day and become self-taught crackerjacks.
Kemal was too panicked to think or talk about anything else. At the moment, at least for today, fear would dominate his life, if that’s what you could call his rather limited existence. I decided not to mention my arrangements with Pamir. If it were kismet, it would have to happen another time.
The sahlep was delicious. I added a thick dusting of cinnamon to my cup. Once I finished it, I’d leave Kemal to panic on his own.