Tyrone's body heaved while he snickered. "We finally have a lead.
Demands have been made."
"What kind? Who? What do they want?" Scott's journalist mind clicked into gear. "What about the computer virus crap?"
"I'm kind of looking into both, but this morning my interest was renewed. A corporate type I met says not only he, but another 25 or more of his corporate brethren are getting the same treatment. If he's right, someone is demanding over $30 Million in ransoms."
"Jesus Christ! Is that confirmed?" Scott probed.
"Yes. That's why I said you were right."
The implications were tremendous, even to Scott's clouded mind. While the legal system might not be convinced that computer radiation was responsible for an obviously well coordinated criminal venture, he, as an engineer, realized how vulnerable anyone - everyone was. The questions raced through his mind all at once.
Over a few dozen oysters and not as many drinks, Scott and Ty proceeded to share their findings. Scott had documents up the ying-yang, documents he couldn't use in a journalistic sense, but might be valuable to the recent developments in Ty's case. He had moved the files to his home; they were simply taking too much space around his desk at the office. They were an added attrac- tion to the disaster he called his study. Scott agreed to show Ty some of them. After the meeting with Franklin Dobbs, and knowing there might be others in similar situations, Ty wanted an informal look at Scott's cache.
"I've been holding back, Ty," Scott said during a lull in their conversation.
"How do you mean?"
"I got a call from a guy I had spoken to a few months ago; I assume he sent me those files, and he said that key executives throughout the country were being blackmailed. Some were borrow- ing money from the mob to pay them off."