Clogs

It seemed like a very good deal at the time.

It all started when he bumped into an old school mate in the bar. When he’d known him at school he came across as being a bit of a clever-clogs, but apparently he’d done well for himself. He was a techie in a company that uses the latest technology to produce 3D modelling for the development and design of intercontinental ballistic missiles. After a few drinks, the techie came up with a plan to make some quick, easy money. He explained that from time to time, when things got really busy, the main server at the company gets clogged and he has to go in and fix it. For those short periods he has time to download copies of the latest IBM schematics.

Then, it got really interesting. He said he knew a guy that worked in the Russian Embassy that would pay twenty grand for them. Thing is, he explains, I can’t risk being seen with him. I need someone to hand the flash drive over. He said he’d been on the lookout for a random outsider that could act as a go-between for the exchange. He said that the problem was that the go-between would be in possession of schematics that could be worth millions if they found the right fence. Not only that, at one point, they would be holding a great deal of cash. For this reason the techie would need to come up with a bond of a thousand, cash in hand, to be returned when the deal was done. When the transaction was complete, the go-between would get the one thousand back plus five of the twenty grand.

After listening to all this with great interest, he agree to play his part. They would meet at the bar the following evening. The USB stick, sealed in a plain envelope, would be handed over for the agreed bond. On the following week, on a specified day and time, he would call at the embassy, ask for Alexei, who would hand over a sealed envelope containing the twenty grand. They would meet back at the bar that evening to divvy up.

On the following evening they met again in the bar, were the bond and schematics changed hands. When he got home he simply had to take a peak. He loaded it up to see what was being paid for, knowing full well that he probably wouldn’t understand what he was looking at. After viewing the contents, he was really glad that he had opened it. This way he loses a grand, instead of the likely outcomes of either becoming involved in an international incident, or being put on trial as a traitor, or being robbed of his ability to breathe.

When he had opened it, he had been gob-smacked to find himself watching a ten minute video clip of Dutch clog dancing.

14 thoughts on “Clogs”

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