PARKER

Yet again I am a guest of the h'establishment! This time I did nuffin' wrong, but don't tell no one, see? Since I started workin' for 'er ladyship, I 'as become pretty good at workin' undercover. Never more than now 'as my…um…previous career been so 'andy. I met one o' me old mates in 'ere, an' 'e was runnin' 'is mouth off to all the uvver inmates about wot we got up to in the old days.

These blokes wot got arrested wiv me started arskin' questions, about 'ow an old Parkhurst boy like me got a job wiv International Rescue. In reality that's simple, but I made up some long ramble about Lady P's farver bein' worried about 'is daughter's adventurous nature, and decidin' I would be the perfect one to protect 'er, and promisin' me a "job for life and `name my own wages'" deal on the proviso that I turned over a new leaf and stopped pickin' locks. Tack a smear of troof to that about me already bein' part of the deal when Jeff Tracy recruited 'er ladyship for IR, and there we go.

These blokes seemed to like it.

Wot I'm trying to get to is that in between all the chattin' and answerin' their questions, I arsked a few o' me own. They answered 'em.

Basically, wot it all boils down to is there ain't no paperwork. That's why Kayo and Lady Penelope ain't found none yet. There's no paperwork to be found.

See, the whole thing depends on information, but in this day and age, who saves information on paper any more?

I know Eos is onto that, and through all 'er searchin' 'asn't found any written documents stored virtually on any database.

Anywhere.

On earth or off it.

I'll tell you why.

There ain't none to find. See, this organisation operates by word of mouth only. They've got their spies in the information and communications sector. Apparently, this bloke `Bob' is the boss of a worldwide telecommunications company, and he designed his own software.

Spy software, that listens out for key words in random telecom calls, or in fact conversations by ordinary people wot carries any kind of comm unit anywhere on their person. Bob created software that is built into virtually every commercially available telecom unit, and quietly listens out for key words or phrases, then transmits that data to a central hub, located on a satellite. All Bob 'as to do is connect to his data hub and download any new data that woz collected and delete wot 'e don't need.

Once 'e finds evidence of someone wot might use 'is services, 'e sets that person or organisation as a `priority' customer, which means everywhere they go and every time they communicate, it gets recorded onto servers on Bob's secret central hub. By the time the target agrees to ask for help, Bob already knows everything about them, and they can't escape 'is clutches no matter wot they do.

The fact that my old mate Whitey's nephew Ollie bugged Fischler's office is a fortunate coincidence. If Ollie is like 'is uncle, 'e would 'ave put 'is bug right in the room next to the phone, but not connected to it physically. These blokes tell me Bob is too clever to be caught out by electronic bugs, so 'is software must 'ave some kind of subroutine to detect bugs and deal wiv' 'em. I fink Ollie was bugging Fischler's office, not 'is 'phone system specifically, which is why Bob's clever virtual spies didn't spot it.

Once this is all over, I'll 'ave to buy Whitey and Ollie a beer!

I ain't told any of this to anyone yet. I 'ave to bide my time, or these blokes will get antsy. If `Bob' can spy electronically on pretty much anyone 'e wants, why were they talking so freely to me about 'im? They might trust me nar, but Bob likely don't.

Unless Bob is able to spy on the men 'ere in prison? All the officers 'ave telecoms, and although personal comms were removed when we were brought in, there are CCTV systems in every room. If Bob's company had any hand in creating the software…He'll know what they know about me.

I wonder if…if he twigs that I'm a spy myself…damn! I need to talk to Eos! Right now!

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