Consequences

A woman franticly entered the elevator and scanned Mark to see if he was a threat. He asked her what floor she wanted. She looked at the elevator panel before saying twenty-two. It was two floors above where Mark’s room was located. The woman held the small bag around her shoulder with two hands. Despite wearing a fancy cocktail dress she looked as she had just been running. Mark considered making small talk but couldn’t think of what to say before they arrived at his floor. Just before he stepped off the elevator and onto his floor they caught each other’s eyes. They both quickly looked away.

Just before the doors closed the woman stepped off the elevator. “Excuse me” she said with a French Accent even though they were in a New York City Hotel. Mark turned around. “I know this sounds odd but can I spend a few minutes in your room, I don’t want to go back to mine, I think someone might be following me.”

“Are you in danger?”

“My ex husband is a very powerful and very jealous man.”

Mark considered asking if this was just an elaborate prelude to some kind of business proposition but when he saw how distressed she looked he simply said “Okay.”

They went into room 2010. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call hotel security or even the police?”

“No, I just need a few minutes to think things through and calm my nerves.”

The years Mark had taken part in interrogations had taught him the best way to get someone to talk was often not to ask, so instead of pressing he offered Myrelle a drink.

“Vodka or gin, please, with ice.”

A drink turned into fifteen minutes, which turned into an hour, which turned into ordering room service, which turned into another drink, which turned into Myrelle moving from her side of the couch to his and then leaning into him and saying “You have been such a gentlemen, let me make it up to you!”

A kiss. An hour of passion. And then sleep.

When Mark woke up his mystery guest was gone. There was a note and a little black notebook on the table. The note read:

Thank-you for a Wonderful Night. I felt safe in your arms. I had to leave. I didn’t want to put you in any more danger but I need your help. I don’t have anyone else to turn to in this city. I believe I can trust you. Lives depend on what you do. In the notebook you will find the numbers and keys to a Bitcoin account. The first thing you should do is use the information to transfer 20,000$ to your own account for your trouble. And then tomorrow at noon I will email you another account. Please transfer the rest of the money within an hour. The email and password that I will send the information to are in the black book as well. Forever Thankful, Myrelle.

The years Mark had spent as an army ranger meant he didn’t scare easy but reading the note sent chills down his spine. As a security professional Mark would never trust hotel wifi so using his mobile internet connection he opened the bitcoin account. The account held just over ten million dollars worth of bitcoin. He knew he could walk out of his hotel room a very rich man but he never cared that much about money and his military pension meant he knew he would always be able to live comfortably. Mark reviewed the evening in his mind for any clues that didn’t seem relevant to him at the time but in the end he was no closer to understanding what was happening.

After attending some work meetings Mark returned to his room. While dining on room service he watched the news. The news was reporting that authorities were looking for a female French National who may have critical information about a possible terrorist attack. The sketch drawing looked identical to Myrelle. He didn't for a moment think of calling the authorities.

After a night of mostly restless sleep Mark spent an hour on the treadmill in the hotel gym hoping to clear his mind. At noon Mark checked the email Myrelle provided and found the account information she had promised to send. He spent five minutes debating on whether he should make the transfer. He decided she deserved the benefit of the doubt. After all she had put her trust in him. When he finally confirmed the transfer he half expected the police to come rushing into his room.

At eight in the evening the news reported that the New York City Police Department along with co-operation from the F.B.I. had arrested four French National terrorist suspects with ties to the middle east and that a so-called suitcase nuke had been recovered at the scene. Mark tried to consider the consequences if the transfer he made was somehow connected to the events on the news but he soon got tired of worrying about something he had no control over and instead poured himself a drink.

At nine in the morning there was a knock on Mark’s hotel room door. When he opened Myrelle was standing there holding the hand of a little girl. “Josephine say hi to Mark.”

“Hi Mark.”

“Hello Josephine.”

“May we come in?”