The Memory Stick Part 2

This is part 2 of this story for the whole story click here

As Steve climbed the stairs to his office he paused a moment to look out over the park. His girl was still there her book resting on her lap, her head tilted toward the sun, eyes closed, a small smile on her lips. He twirled the stick in his hand as he watched her. She brushed that hair behind her ear again and Steve watched it fall straight back to where it was before. 

Steve thought nothing could tear his attention away from that beautiful vision but the screech of car brakes made him look round. Two men jumped out of the car in question and jog walked into the park in the way that only secret service men seem able to do. Steve knew what would happen next without having to watch. The two men made a beeline for the girl, they took an arm each and dragged her to the car, not violently but efficiently. 30 seconds maybe less, was all it took for his object of his desires to disappear. He twirled the stick in his fingers again wondering what the hell he had let himself into and went back to his desk.

 Steve’s desk seemed alien to him, his world had changed in one small moment. At once he was bemused and amused. She’d spoken to him, their hands had touched, she’d trusted him. She had noticed him. Questions swam around his head like goldfish in a bowl. What had made him get up and approach the girl? Why had she chosen him? What was on the stick? Should he look at it? What did the men want with her? Would they come after him now? Loads of questions no answers. He felt the pen drive in the zippo pocket of his jeans; maybe that contained all the answers, could he look at it? She'd said look after not look at.  He certainly couldn’t put it in the work computer in case someone else saw. He’d have to wait until he got home. But looking at it would mean knowing what she knew, and he didn't fancy Tommy Lee Jones and Will Smith coming and dragging him off a park bench.  Uff he was getting a headache. 

He tried to concentrate on his work but that was impossible, so in the end he reached for his phone, called his boss and asked if he could leave early as he had a migraine coming on. As soon as the boss agreed, Steve was out of the door and on his way home. Questions still swimming, answers still missing. 

All the way home Steve debated with himself, should he or shouldn’t he? To look or not to look? But deep down inside he knew he would. He had to, it was the only way he would ever be able to unravel this mystery.  

Steve drew the curtains in his living room. He didn’t really know why but he kind of felt he had found himself in the middle of a film and had seen people do that in the movies. He took a deep breath and opened the folder.

There were two icons on the screen in front of him. A word document that was called ‘read me first’ and a folder simply called ‘New Folder’.  He did as he was told and opened the ‘read me first’ document.

‘I am writing to you because there is no one else I can trust. I think I can trust you because I know you like me. I’ve watched you watch me all summer. J

I also knew you’d look at what was on the stick. Don’t feel bad, it’s human nature.’ 

Steve blushed.

‘Feel free to open the folder but prepare to be shocked, I may not be what I seem.

I am in a little bit of trouble. I know they are coming for me today. On this disk is some very sensitive information about some very important and well-known people. This disk is my insurance. Please make a copy, keep this one and the copy in different places. Someone will come to collect one copy, they will give a password. The password is ‘The Red Dress is my favourite.’ I hope I will be released soon. When I am, I shall show my gratitude.’

Steve read the letter a couple of times. He wondered what she meant by ‘show her gratitude’. But he couldn’t waste time fantasising, he pulled open his desk draw and searched for a flash disk. He made a copy of what was on the original and then looked round for hiding places. He was no spy but he remembered that the electric socket in his bedroom was loose; there was room behind there. He wobbled it and worked a space to fit the memory stick in, then manoeuvred the socket back into place. That was one done but before he could hide the other one he needed to look at the ‘New Folder’. She said she wasn’t what she seemed but how bad could it be? 

This is part 2 of this story for the whole story click here